‘Yes.’ I nod and give him a wavering smile. I can feel Valerie’s eyes studying me intently.
‘Cuppa?’ he asks.
‘We don’t have any milk, remember?’ Valerie chips in tartly. ‘Unless she takes it without.’
Who’s ‘she’, the cat’s mother?
‘Oh, I’m fine,’ I say, glancing between them awkwardly, my gaze eventually resting on Charlie. I nod up the stairs. ‘I should probably crack straight on.’
‘Okay.’ He nods and smiles at me.
‘Did I hear that right? Does she have akey?’ I catch Valerie asking impertinently as I push open my office door.
I really missed April, but I’m nervous about meeting Kate, so, when I hear her return, I don’t rush downstairs. I’m not playing my music today (as if I could relax enough to do that) and my chest actually aches to hear April’s merry little chatter. I can barely stand it, and, before I know it, I’m on my feet and over by the office door. I listen with an odd yearning sensation in my gut as Kate takes April down the corridor to the kitchen. Her husband and sons must still be at the hotel.
I force myself to sit back down. I hope Kate will be more receptive to meeting me than her mother. Charlie told me that she was the one who persuaded him to say yes to a sequel, so surely she’ll be pleasant, won’t she? She’s always nice to Charlie – I’ve overheard so many of her conversations with him.
I take a deep breath and slowly exhale, trying to calm my nerves. I’ll just give them some time to settle in. They’re probably having their belated cup of tea. I wonder if Charlie will make me one. When there’s a knock at my door, that’s the first thing I think of.
‘Hey!’ I call, swivelling in my chair.
The door opens and a woman enters. She has dark hair like the other female members of the Dupré family, but hers is streaked with lighter, orangey highlights. Her lipstick is pale pink, but thickly applied.
‘Hi!’ I say brightly.
‘Hello,’ she replies.
This is not the face of a friend. It looks like the face of an adversary.
‘I’m Bridget,’ I say, trying to stay upbeat.
‘I gather that,’ she replies stonily. ‘I’m Kate,Nicole’s sister.’
She puts emphasis on the last two words of her introduction.
She looks alotolder than Nicki was when she died, and slightly haggard, as if she’s had way too many late nights and early mornings. Only three years separated them, four now, but it could’ve been ten. Maybe grief has aged her, but it doesn’t seem to have had a similar effect on her mother.
‘I thought I’d better come to say hello,’ she says sourly.
‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ I force myself to reply.
She looks around the room, at my desk, up at the bookshelves, back to my computer. Pain flickers across her features and I soften towards her, despite her frosty reception.
‘I was thinking about coming downstairs for a cuppa,’ I say gently, saving my work. Earlier on the train, I read through the beginning ofConfessionsagain so it was fresh in my mind. I’ve just started writing a Tintagel-set Morris-and-Kit scene.
‘I’d like to speak to you about my sister’s book, actually.’ She sounds terse. ‘Charlie doesn’t seem to know anything about it.’
‘He doesn’t ask me much,’ I admit. ‘But I’m in regular contact with Fay and Sara, Nicki’s editor and agent.’
‘Nicole,’ she says.
Is she seriously correcting me?
She continues. ‘Charlie probably finds it hard to talk about. But he can’tnotpay attention. This issoimportant. I really couldn’t believe he had no idea what you’ve been doing up here.’
‘That’s not tr—’ I start to say, but she talks over me.
‘I’ll be involved from now on. My sister would’ve wanted that.’
