– bridesmaids at Van Gogh’s wedding. Ellie wriggled her way through and was frowning up at the painting. Charlie stood next to her. Cat excused her way through the crowd to stand alongside them.
‘What do you think?’ she asked.
‘I like them,’ said Ellie.
‘They’re dying,’ said Charlie. ‘Why did he paint dying flowers?’
Cat looked at the picture and realised that he was right. In her mind they had always been bright and alive and full of life. In actual fact at least half a dozen of the flowers were drooping. If they had been in her house, she would have thrown them out. She looked for a description, hoping that it might give her an answer for Charlie. ‘Well he painted them for his friend, another painter called Gauguin, and I think he wanted to impress him.’
‘By painting dying flowers?’
‘I think there are a few versions,’ said Cat, trying to scan through the text quickly.
‘I need a poo,’ declared Ellie.
‘Right, okay,’ said Cat, still trying to read the text.
‘Now,’ said Ellie, looking a little desperate.
A lady with a sleeping toddler in a buggy caught Cat’s eye. ‘Kids eh?’ She grinned.
Cat gave her a weak smile. She longed to shout, I am not one of you! These are not my children!
‘Come on then, you two,’ said Cat, leading them back to the entrance hall.
‘I’ll wait here,’ said Charlie.
Cat wavered. The gallery was very busy and she also wasn’t convinced that she could trust him to stay put, despite their earlier discussion. ‘I want you to come with us,’ said Ellie in a strained voice.
Charlie looked at his sister and rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, Ells,’ he said offering her his hand.
They followed the signs to the basement. ‘I’ve got a turtle!’ shouted Ellie as they sped along the marble corridor with Cat glancing back every now and then to check Charlie was still behind her. Cat’s heart sank when she saw the queue. It snaked out of the door. Could she push in declaring a faecal emergency? She could see quite a few parents ahead of her accompanied by squirming children. Probably not.
She turned to face Ellie and held her by the shoulders. ‘You’ve got to hold on, Ellie. Can you do that for me, please?’ Ellie’s face was screwed up in concentration and she looked as if she might cry.
‘Hey, Ellie,’ said Charlie. ‘What’s that song about the kookaburra that Mum always sings?’
Ellie was immediately distracted as she thought. She began a tuneless rendition and to Cat’s surprise Charlie joined in.
‘Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree-ee,
Merry, merry king of the bush is hee-ee,
Laugh kookaburra, laugh kookaburra,
Gay your life must be.’
Cat had to endure this assault on her eardrums for a further ten rounds but they reached the toilet without further drama.
‘In you go, Ellie,’ said Cat.
‘Can you come in with me?’
‘Really?’ asked Cat horrified.
‘These toilets are very dark and a bit scary.’ Cat and Charlie exchanged glances. ‘Please?’ implored the little girl.
‘O-kay but let’s be quick. I thought this was an emergency,’ said Cat feeling exasperated.
They crammed into the cubicle as Ellie sat down and began a running commentary on her bowel movement.
‘It’s coming out now and oooh, that’s much better.’
Cat stared at the ceiling and tried to pretend that she was having cocktails in Shoreditch House. Ellie went about her business and after she had wiped declared that ‘it came out clean so I didn’t really need to wipe.’
‘You stink,’ said Charlie with a grin.
‘I know.’ Ellie beamed.
‘Okay, go and wash your hands now,’ said Cat. As Ellie filled her hands with too much soap and proceeded to flood the floor beneath her basin, Cat turned to Charlie. ‘Thank you for distracting her,’ she said. He shrugged.
‘That was fun,’ said Ellie as they made their way out towards the door. ‘Can we go for lunch now, please?’
When she told Andrew later about their dining experience, he was a little too quick to point out that she should have saved herself the bother and taken the children to McDonald’s.
‘The treat aspect to eating out for kids is the fact that they’re not eating at home,’ he said plainly.
Cat did not know this and she also didn’t go to McDonald’s. Ever. Although she could remember enjoying it as a child, now she was an adult, she could afford to shun fast-food establishments and treat herself to something a little more edifying. So for Cat a meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant was something different and wonderful and she had felt sure that the children would quickly be impressed and won over. The trip to the National Gallery had been relatively successful and she decided that they all deserved a treat. Cat was no fool though. She had deliberately chosen a restaurant run by a female chef with children. She not only welcomed kids but had even designed a menu for them. It was where Cat sent all her celebrity mothers with their offspring.
‘Wow,’ was all Ellie would say as the maître d’ led them through the elegant dining room to their table.
‘Thank you, Philippe,’ said Cat with a smile as they took their places. The children looked bemused when he unfolded their napkins and placed them on their laps. Ellie beamed at Cat and she started to relax a little. Philippe brought the menus, a large one for Cat and two smaller ones for the children.
‘I sink you will be wanting ze brunch menu, Miss Nightingale?’ he asked.
‘That will be wonderful. Thank you.’ He retreated with a small bow and Cat turned to the children. ‘So they have macaroni cheese, burgers or fishcakes. What do you fancy?’
Ellie was looking around in wonder and awe. ‘I feel like a princess,’ she breathed. ‘I like the way that man talks too. Can I have macaroni cheese, please?’
Cat smiled. ‘Of course. Charlie? How about a burger?’
‘I want to go home,’ said Charlie, his face clouding over.
Cat took a deep breath. ‘Come on, let’s have some lunch eh? Ellie is looking forward to it,’ she said with meaning.
Charlie scowled at her but then caught sight of his sister’s hopeful face. ‘I’ll just have chips,’ he said.
‘All right,’ said Cat, deciding that it wasn’t worth a battle. ‘And what would you like to drink?’
‘Can I have a Coke, please?’ asked Ellie.
Charlie gave her a disapproving look and was about to open his mouth when he thought better of it. ‘Coke for me too, please,’ he said giving his aunt a rare smile.
Cat felt encouraged. She would win the children over in one single day and Andrew would have to eat his words. As she placed their order, she spotted Ava being led through the restaurant. She was with a companion whom Cat recognised as Caroline Henderson, a freelance PR consultant Cat had used for the odd campaign. Cat gave them a wave. Caroline looked embarrassed and whispered something to Ava before retreating towards the entrance. Ava made her way over to Cat’s table.
‘Darling,’ she said, kissing the air either side of Cat’s head. ‘How are you?’ She emphasised the question by glancing at the children and giving Cat a look of deep sympathy.
‘I’m fine. Really,’