Nick decided it was time he took charge for once. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t look like anyone else is going to show, so we’ll do it between the three of us. Don’t worry. Where shall we start?’
‘Well,’ said Margot, ‘we currently have nobody to actually perform it. I’ve read through the script June left, and we need five performers.’ She frowned from Nick to Kitty. ‘Do you think we’ll be able to find five people wanting to be in this play?’
‘I’m sure we will,’ said Kitty, although the look on her face didn’t scream confidence. ‘Why don’t we schedule a time for people to come and audition? We can put posters up around the village advertising it, and hopefully a few people will sign up.’ She sat up straighter. ‘Why don’t we start a Facebook page so people can message if they’re not sure, or want more details before committing themselves?’
‘A great idea,’ said Nick. ‘Can you do the Facebook page?’
Kitty’s enthusiasm seemed to melt away. ‘Um, no, I’d rather not,’ she said.
Nick frowned at her, waiting for, and not receiving, an explanation.
‘I can do it,’ said Margot.
‘Thanks,’ said Nick. ‘I’ll need to find someone to watch Emily while we do the auditions.’
‘What about Paige Morris?’ suggested Margot. ‘She came into the café the other day asking for work, but I didn’t have any shifts I could give her. She’s grown up a lot lately from the tearaway she used to be. I’m sure she’d be keen to do some babysitting.’
‘That’s a great idea, thanks,’ said Nick.
In the end, only having three of them at the meeting worked out for the best. There were no competing opinions to face, and it wasn’t like some of the village meetings Nick had attended, where people droned on and on and on, wanting their voices heard, taking up precious time when he could have been down the pub. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t want a pint. What he wanted was to get back to his daughter.
Chapter 29
Kitty’s phone had vibrated against her thigh throughout most of her meeting with Margot and Nick. She’d ignored it, knowing it could be only one of three people, the most likely of whom was her mum.
The meeting concluded swiftly, and it was only eight o’clock by the time Kitty turned the key in the lock of her cottage and stepped inside. She closed the door behind her, a surge of relief washing through her to be safely inside her own four walls. Within the space of a few short weeks, the cottage had become her sanctuary, and she could never thank Solly, Margot, and Suzanne enough for organising it for her. What would she have done if this opportunity hadn’t come up? Kitty couldn’t bear to think what might have become of her.
She pulled her phone from her pocket. Three missed calls from her mum, two answerphone messages, and five texts.
Where are you?
Are you OK?
Please reply to tell me you’re safe.
Call me when you can.
Love you, and it’s my job to worry about you.
Kitty didn’t call her mum straight away. Instead, she went to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. Changing her mind, she pulled a cold bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge and poured herself a large glass. She rarely drank alone, but tonight she felt she deserved it. Not only had her first week teaching her new class gone better than she could have hoped, she’d also survived a dinner party, a drink with the girls, and getting dragged into the local Summer Extravaganza, all without revealing too much of herself.
Carrying her glass to the far side of the room, Kitty flopped onto the sumptuous sofa. Although in winter the sitting room would be cosy perfection, at this time of year, you couldn’t beat the light-filled kitchen. Besides, the sofa was more comfortable than the more formal ones in the front room.
Kitty sipped her wine slowly, enjoying the coolness of the liquid trailing down her parched throat, thinking over her time in Saffron Bay. The only thing bothering her about the past few weeks was her growing affection for Nick. It was ridiculous, irrational. There was nothing about him she should find herself attracted to, and yet her legs felt wobbly whenever she was around him. Her heart beat faster. She should know better than to fall for the charms of a good-looking man, she told herself, and laughed. Nick was hardly full of charm. In fact, he was quite devoid of the stuff. No one, however, could deny he was blessed with good looks.
She took another sip of her wine. She hadn’t been single for very long. This was ridiculous. She should be able to go more than six months without needing the comfort of another human being, particularly one as hopeless as Nick Andrews.
Kitty picked up her phone, took a deep breath, a large glug of wine, and found her mum’s number.
‘Ah, Cathy, I’ve been so worried about you.’
‘Sorry, Mam. I should have messaged, but I was in a meeting.’
‘A staff meeting in the evening? Surely they’re not working you that hard, my love?’
Kitty smiled, picturing her mother in her usual telephone spot. She would sit on a high stool leaning against the kitchen wall in the small Dublin terrace Kitty had grown up in. For a moment, Kitty longed to be there with her, chewing the fat, comparing notes on their day. No, despite all that had happened, Kitty didn’t regret leaving Ireland. It had been the right thing at the time. It was everything that had happened since that she needed to recover from.
‘No, Mam,’ she said, ‘it wasn’t a staff meeting. I’ve been roped into helping with the local Summer Extravaganza. They’re doing a condensed version ofRomeo and Juliet.’
