you sure? Because I’m starting to get concerned.’
‘You don’t need to worry. Everything is under control.’
‘All right. See you tomorrow.’
Cat hung up before turning to Ellie. ‘Don’t ever touch my phone again,’ she snapped. Ellie’s lip began to wobble. Cat panicked. ‘Now don’t cry, Ellie. You don’t need to cry.’
But it was too late. Ellie’s body trembled and tears coursed down her face. Cat watched helplessly as Charlie put down his game and went over to comfort his sister. He glared at his aunt. ‘You don’t have to be such a mean cow. She’s just a little girl. She’s a bit naughty sometimes but only because she wants attention.’
Cat was stung by his words. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that I have to work, you see?’ she said pathetically.
Charlie shrugged. ‘Whatever. Come on, Ellie, I’ll play a game with you,’ he said.
Cat felt wretched as she returned to her desk. The children were occupied now with a drawing game. She noticed that Charlie occasionally whispered comments to Ellie and they would glance up at Cat and giggle. It made her feel uncomfortable and even though they were quiet she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.
‘How do you ever get anything done?’ she wailed to her brother when he phoned later that evening.
Andrew gave a wry chuckle. ‘Welcome to my world, dearest sister. Did you remember to feed them? They’re evil when they’re hungry.’
‘I ordered takeaway pizza,’ admitted Cat.
‘I bet that won you some brownie points.’
‘Hmmm.’ In fact, the children had been quiet and sullen. They seemed to retreat into their own little world after the incident at the office and it was clear that Cat wasn’t welcome.
‘Well obviously bedtime wasn’t a problem. Clearly you’re a natural,’ offered Andrew with cheerful encouragement.
Cat gave a hollow laugh. In fact Charlie had overseen the bedtime routine, making sure his sister cleaned her teeth properly and tucking her in after she insisted that he do it. He had played on his iPad for a short while before taking himself off to bed.
‘Night then,’ Cat had ventured, receiving a barely audible grunt in reply. She had poured herself a large glass of wine as a reward and carried it into the living room. Noticing the contents of Ellie’s rucksack strewn across her normally pristine lounge floor, she had reached down to repack them. She picked up one of Ellie’s drawings of a very tall lady with ears like a cat and the label ‘Cross Aunty Cat’, to which Charlie had added the words ‘smells of poo’. Her immediate reaction had been one of hurt and then she felt ridiculous. Her thoughts had been interrupted by Andrew’s phone call.
‘“Natural” isn’t exactly the word I would use,’ said Cat. ‘Just make sure you don’t have any more last-minute business trips while Melissa’s away.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ laughed Andrew.
‘Right well I need to go and do the work I couldn’t finish because of your children,’ she joked.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ replied Andrew. ‘And thanks again – you saved my life.’
Cat hung up and flicked her phone to her social media channels, noting several texts from Dan reporting that all was well at the dinner. As Cat spent the next hour catching up on everything that had happened in the last few hours, she became aware of a new and unusual sensation. It all felt like a bit of an effort and she realised that she was tired and distracted by the presence of the children. She felt disconcerted by her inability to focus on her job while they were around, as if her brain were in two places at the same time. She shook it off as something temporary and carried on working, knowing that she would be dissatisfied if she didn’t. In Cat’s mind, today’s episode only served to vindicate her decision to remain single and child-free. Her life was ordered and organised and even though she was happy to help her brother, she couldn’t wait for the moment when they’d be gone and she could return to normal.
Tiredness got the better of her and she fell asleep. She was woken at midnight by the sound of her phone ringing. It was Jesse. She immediately knew that something was wrong.
‘Cat, we’ve got a serious problem.’
‘What’s up?’
‘Alvarro’s gone AWOL. The pictures are all over the internet. I’ve just had the CEO of Daily Grind on the phone. They’re cancelling the launch.’
‘Shit. What’s he done?’
‘Apart from being photographed snorting cocaine with a prostitute and getting into a fight?’
‘Oh God. Where was Dan when this was going on?’
‘Oh he’s in the pictures too. So much for trusting him to take care of things. We’re finished, Cat. Completely finished.’
Cat opened her eyes and as the reality of the last twenty-four hours hit her, she closed them again. She could hear her phone’s murmuring buzz from the drawer where she had tossed it last night. She never put her phone on silent and she never shut it away but she had broken both habits since the events of Wednesday. However, these particular changes were the least of her worries. She had effectively lost everything: her job, her reputation, her life as it had been up to that point.
The fallout had been immediate and severe. She hadn’t even gone into the office; Hemingway Media was under siege. There were members of the press at the front door trying to talk to anyone who entered and the phone was ringing off the hook. Every journalist loves a cock-up and this particular cock-up was gold dust because it contained the nation’s top-three scandal ingredients: an overpaid footballer, a prostitute and drugs.
Of course, in the social media arena of damning judgement, someone had to be blamed and, naturally, it wasn’t going to be the superstar footballer. True, he had lost his sponsorship deal with Daily Grind but his agent, Will, had already hired another PR firm to deal with damage limitation. Alvarro was sorry – he apologised to the fans, his club; he was stupid and young and didn’t know what he was doing; he was photographed looking contrite next to his stern-faced mother; she became an immediate internet star and he was in the clear. He was still a brilliant footballer with a bright future ahead of him. He promised to go into rehab and sort out his problems.
For Cat, the future was decidedly murky. Ironically, she had met with Jesse at the branch of Daily Grind round the corner from their office. He was grim-faced. Daily Grind were threatening to sue for loss of income and Alvarro’s agent, Will, had already put in a call to Hemingway Media’s American backers, demanding his pound of flesh. Cat had been in PR long enough to know how these things worked but she still nurtured a secret hope that Jesse might have a solution.
‘What did Donald say?’ asked Cat, trying to keep her voice calm. Donald Carter was the CEO of Greenwich Media who had a sixty per cent stake in Hemingway. Cat had only met him once and remembered his vice-like handshake and disturbingly hairy knuckles. He had a tough reputation and five ex-wives.
‘Well, he sort of bellowed and I sort of listened with the phone at quite a distance from my ear,’ admitted Jesse.
‘I’m sorry, Jesse,’ said Cat quietly. ‘This is all my fault.’
Jesse noticed her worried face and reached out his hand. ‘No no, Kit Kat. I don’t think you could have changed anything even if you’d been there.’
‘I could have taken Alvarro back to his hotel and chained him to the bed,’ asserted Cat.
‘To be honest, I think he would have enjoyed that,’ observed Jesse, raising one eyebrow suggestively.
Cat