‘I haven’t forgotten at all. Bring them with you. We can eat early; is five-thirty okay? My treat.’
‘I can pay my own way.’
Mark was taken aback. ‘I didn’t for one minute think you couldn’t.’ An idea occurred to him, though why he was soanxious for her to agree, he had yet to determine. ‘Call it a business meeting. I want to pick your children’s brains.’
‘Why?’ Her suspicion was palpable. She clearly didn’t believe a word he was saying.
‘I have an idea for the new book and I’d like to run it past them, so dinner will be a legitimate expense.’ It wouldn’t, but she didn’t need to know that.
‘I thought you had writer’s block?’
‘I did, but I don’t now.’ He smiled warmly at her. ‘It’s amazing what a chat with an old friend can do.’
‘Less of the old.’ Her reply was automatic and lacked conviction. She sighed. ‘Okay – when?’
‘I’ll fit in with you and your plans.’
‘Friday,’ she said. ‘I don’t want the kids worked up on a school night.’
‘Friday, it is.’ He’d hoped it could be sooner, but he supposed five days would give him time to hone his idea and produce some illustrations to show her children, and then he wouldn’t be making himself out to be a liar. Because the real reason he had asked her to dinner was that he simply wanted to see her again. But why that was, he wasn’t prepared to think about too closely.
The front door banging open, accompanied by shouts of ‘Mummy, why is it so dark?’ jolted Beatrice out of her thoughts, and she leapt out of the chair and switched on the nearest lamp.
Sadie barrelled into her, smelling of Eric’s cologne and bringing a blast of chilly air with her. ‘I was scared you were out!’
‘I’m not out, I’m here.’
‘But it was dark. You don’t like the dark.’
‘Youdon’t like the dark,’ Beatrice corrected her youngest child. ‘Idon’t mind it. Where’s your sister?’
Sadie’s expression clouded. ‘She told Daddy she hates him. She doesn’t, does she?’
‘Of course she doesn’t. I expect she was cross with him, that’s all.’ Beatrice moved to the window and peered into the street. She could see Taya in the passenger seat of Eric’s car. It was parked under the street light, illuminating her face. Taya looked remarkably like Sadie when she was annoyed about something.
Eventually she got out and slammed the door. The car rocked.
No doubt she would tell Beatrice about it later. For now, Beatrice wanted to make them some tea.
The front door banged open a second time as Taya stormed in, and Beatrice hurried to close it before it slammed shut. If this carried on, she would have to replace the damned thing, and she couldn’t afford to do that. Did her kidsknowhow much a new front door cost?
Beatrice scowled. Of course they didn’t, and if they did, they wouldn’t care.
Aware that she was being ridiculous (they were children for goodness’ sake!) she peered into the street again, then gently closed the door, hoping Eric hadn’t upset their eldest child too much.
Beatrice got the story out of Taya over tea. ‘Have you fallen out with Dad?’ she asked.
Taya narrowed her eyes at her sister. ‘Tattletale.’
‘I’m not!’
Beatrice hastened to soothe sibling angst. ‘Don’t blame Sadie. I could tell from the way you stormed into the house.’
When it came to her children, there was always some drama or another, most of it minor and fleeting in the grand scheme of things, but of gigantic importance at the time. Hopefully this was of the minor and fleeting variety.
‘Dad has got a girlfriend,’ Taya spat.
Beatrice frowned in irritation. ‘Was she there? Did you meet her?’
