‘So I’m not being neurotic?’
‘Oh, you’re definitely being that. But you’ve got an excuse after everything you’ve been through. But I promise you, Jules: Frankie is going to be okay. While this whole trip is stressful for you, it will be very good for her.’
‘You’re right.’
‘Can I have that in writing please?’
I smile to myself. ‘What are you up to at the weekend?’
‘Mad busy,’ he says. ‘Bella has dancing on Saturday morning then I’ve got to have a row with a bouncy castle company.’
‘Why?’
‘They’ve double-booked the pirate ship I ordered for the school fair, and now they’re trying to fob me off with the same Disco Dome we had at Halloween. It started deflating the moment “Thriller” started. One verse and it looked like a soggy teabag.’
‘You’re doing an awful lot for that PTA lately,’ I point out. I can’t seem to go for a drink with my brother these days without having a sponsorship form thrust in my face.
‘That’s because I’m now thechair, Jules. Top dog. King of the hill.’
‘Well, as long as the power isn’t going to your head.’
‘What about you? Are you up to anything nice?’
‘I’ve got a few options,’ I say, though in truth, aside from going for a drink with Gavin on Saturday, all I’m facing for most of the weekend is a choice between more work,Ally McBealand videos on social media about abandoned dogs being rehabilitated.
‘I only ask because I’m hoping to squeeze in an hour on the tennis court on Saturday afternoon,’ he continues.
‘Right,’ I say, nonchalantly. ‘Who are you playing with?’
‘Nobody. I’m going to practise my serve. I want to do better than just pat it over the net.’
‘According to Cody it’s all about the position of the elbow,’ I tell him.
‘Who?’
‘Cody. He’s this young, cool tennis coach from Santa Barbara who keeps popping up on my Instagram feed. You should follow him.’
‘I thought you had absolutely no intention of taking up this sport again?’
‘I don’t.’
‘Then why would you want to watch tennis videos?’
‘Exactly! If someone could tell Instagram that, I’d be very grateful,’ I say. ‘I’ll send you the link, if you like?’
‘That’d be good. Though, it might be more fun if I had someone to practise with.’
I take a sip of my tea.
‘Oh, go on, Jules,’ he urges me. ‘Do it for me if nobody else.’
Chapter 14
The following day, I have one of those creative mornings that remind me why I love my job. I spend it with two home-textile designers discussing some of the ideas I had on an inspiration trip to Marrakech a few weeks ago. I am like a magpie when I’m abroad and always return with a suitcase full of samples and a scrapbook bursting with new concepts. I’m already excited when they present me with their designs for some stunning flatweave cushions in seaside colours and pretty jute rugs with contrasting tones.
But my good mood crumbles when I, along with other senior staff members, am called into a meeting after lunch.
‘You may have seen a lot of speculation in the press about the future of Fable & Punk in the last twenty-four hours,’ Angus says with forced cheer, as sweat beads on his forehead. ‘And I can tell you now, most of it is absolutetosh.’
