Читать книгу A Walk in Wildflower Park - Bella Osborne - Страница 11

The next morning Anna left Maurice curled up on her most expensive cushion. He seemed to have claimed it during the night and she hadn’t had the heart to take it from him. He had spent most of the previous evening hiding under furniture, which probably wasn’t surprising given his pillowcase ordeal, but this morning he seemed calmer, if still a little wary. She’d left him food, water and a clean litter tray and locked him in. The rescue centre said he had to stay inside for at least three weeks – and preferably longer – so he knew where to return to when he was let out. Maurice was on her mind as she walked through the office, and up ahead she could see Sophie. Anna checked her watch, as it was unusually early for Sophie to be in.

‘Morning,’ said Anna, scanning the holiday chart on the wall and trying to work out whose desk might be free for her to squat at today.

‘Hi,’ said Sophie, giving her a shifty glance.

Anna paid attention to what Sophie was doing. ‘Are you moving desks?’

‘It’s temporary so Hudson and I can be together. Sit together,’ she hastily corrected.

‘Just be careful, Sophe,’ said Anna. She didn’t trust Hudson and Sophie seemed to be getting hooked in very fast.

Anna settled herself down in a nearby desk and moved the usual occupant’s clutter to one side. Really, who kept a potato clock and a pink toy troll on their desk? She had a friendly email from a member of her old team, which she replied to, and told her about Maurice. Anna opened up a new email and added in the names for the board and all senior people on the programme. She and Karl had made good headway on the project scope and she wanted to share that work ahead of the big meeting they had later. Her friend sent a message demanding a picture of Maurice. Anna was happy to oblige as she’d already taken quite a few of him looking rather handsome curled up on that cushion. She sent them from her phone to her work email address, copied the pictures over and pressed paste as she was interrupted by Hudson.

‘Anna, did you say you were issuing the deliverables paper first thing?’ he asked, his tone reasonable but the words instantly making Anna feel defensive.

‘I’m literally sending it now,’ she said, as she huffily stabbed at the send button. In the very same millisecond her brain registered what she was sending and where. ‘Nooooo!’

She had attached the many pictures of Maurice to the deliverables email and now it was zapping its way through the ether to all the great and the good on the programme.

‘What’s up?’ asked Hudson.

‘I’ve sent …’ Anna couldn’t believe what she’d done. It felt like her stomach had dropped to her toes and bounced back up again. She ran her palms down her face. ‘Wrong email …’ Her fingers jabbed at the keyboard; embarrassment swamped her. She’d never live this down. She tried to remember how to recall messages. ‘Nightmare …’

‘Anna? What is it?’ His voice was surprisingly gentle.

He would think she was a total idiot but there was no point in lying – he was on the distribution list too. She swallowed hard. ‘I’ve sent pictures of my cat to almost everyone on the programme.’

His eyebrows jumped but he recovered his expression quickly. ‘Budge up,’ he said, shoving her wheelie chair and making her collide with Sophie like an errant bumper car. His fingers whizzed across the keys as her heart thumped at an unnatural speed. She’d never done anything quite so stupid before. There was the time she left her egg salad on a sunny windowsill and went to a workshop, stinking out the office … but this beat that hands down.

Hudson stood up straight. ‘Okay. Recalled successfully—’

‘Thank you so much,’ said Anna, relief swamping her.

‘—with the exception of Roberta. She’s already opened the email,’ he added, wincing and scrunching up his shoulders as if waiting to be thumped.

‘Bugger,’ said Anna, with feeling. That was going to be a fun one to explain. Anna twisted around. Roberta’s office was empty and her laptop wasn’t there – she liked to take it to meetings to make herself look extremely important.

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ said Sophie, ‘I mean Catwoman was a feminist right? And so is Roberta so …’ She gave Anna’s arm a pat whilst she and Hudson exchanged knowing looks.

A meeting reminder popped up, jerking her back into action. She had precisely five minutes until the big meeting. She dashed to the printer to collect her hand-outs but the printer was lit up like Las Vegas with warning lights and had not printed anything. She checked all its paper trays, she rummaged around in the middle bit and nothing appeared to have been chewed up, and as a last resort she switched it off and on again. She was now ready to give it a thorough kicking.

‘Is there a problem?’ asked Hudson, who must have crept up behind her.

Anna spun around and leaned back against the printer to put a little space between them. ‘No, I’m fine.’ She tucked a piece of stray hair behind her right ear in a jerky movement. She wasn’t fine but having him see that wasn’t going to improve things.

‘Can I help at all?’ he asked, peering past her to the myriad flashing lights on the printer’s panel.

‘I doubt it,’ said Anna, before running him through all the things she had tried. She checked her watch – she needed to leave or she’d be late. Hudson leaned towards her and she wondered for a second what he was going to do. He pushed the toner door slightly and it clicked shut. The whole machine whirred into life and Hudson gave her a nonchalant rise of his shoulders. She hated it when that happened.

‘Thank you.’ She managed to say it without gritting her teeth. She gathered up her papers and scuttled off.

Anna’s day proceeded to go from bad to worse; Roberta was not impressed with the photos of Maurice and had a rant at her in front of everybody over an entry on the risk log, which she clearly didn’t understand, only to apologise later in private and explain away her behaviour as a result of her imminent period. Karl was stressing about lack of data – he really did put the anal in analyst, and Hudson was being perfectly efficient, which was always irritating. She was glad to escape at the end of the day, even if the sight that greeted her was perplexing … Maurice was still asleep on her expensive cushion and appeared to have not moved all day, but the entire contents of a man-size box of tissues had been shredded and liberally scattered around the living room making it look like an indoor snowdrift.

The fact Maurice had slept all day unfortunately meant that he was awake and meowing for most of the night; evidently he didn’t feel quite at home yet. Anna went for a jog first thing, though after very little sleep, it was like sticking her head in a washing machine during spin cycle – neither was a great idea, but at least she was out in the fresh air and enjoying the park. It was Saturday morning and she was keen to leave her work frustrations behind her. The steady rhythm of trainer on path consumed her body while her brain could focus on what was troubling her.

Anna realised what had started out as a jog had been speeding up and her lungs were burning with effort. She slowed down and stopped near a bench, holding on to the back of it while she caught her breath, admiring the row of grand houses that circled the park. They all had gardens that gave them exclusive access to the park on their doorstep, and she could see Sophie’s house from here – or rather, her back gate. Sophie’s house had a very long garden, which led to a lovely family home, and without even realising what she was doing, Anna had given up on her run and was walking towards it. It was time for a cuppa and a serious bitching session.

Anna wasn’t surprised to find the gate was locked but a quick phone call to Sophie had Dave sent down to let her in.

‘Welcome to the madhouse! You okay?’ He was his usual upbeat self. Nothing seemed to faze Dave, he bobbed along happily as the rest of life’s shit flew around him. Sometimes literally, if Petal was in a nappy-diving mood.

‘I’m good, thanks. Settling in to the neighbourhood.’ She felt the need to pre-empt the next question.

‘We knew you’d love it here. Sophie’s in the utility wrestling with sheets. Arlo was sick last night. He’d sneaked a box of Maltesers and eaten the lot.’

As they neared the house the noise of shouting children increased. Arlo was running around the kitchen wearing a sieve on his head and waving a pirate sword, his latest obsession.

‘Hiya, Arlo,’ said Anna, intercepting him and the plastic sword neatly. ‘How’s school going?’

‘Rubbish. Willoughby Newell keeps getting me into trouble.’

Anna mouthed the name at Dave and he shook his head. Kids who were given names like that were always going to have problems, thought Anna. ‘What does he do to get you in trouble?’ she asked.

‘He cries when I hit him,’ said Arlo, a deep frown burrowing across his perfect skin.

‘Do you think maybe if you didn’t hit him, that might help?’

Arlo pondered this for a moment, his wavy baby blond hair swinging about his head as he shook it vehemently.

‘Shitake!’ Sophie’s voice came from the utility. Anna left Dave to explain the laws of cause and effect to his son.

Anna popped her head round the door. ‘Mushrooms as swear words – that’s a new one. What’s up?’

Sophie hugged Petal to her hip. She was surrounded by a rainbow of laundry; brightly coloured baskets overflowed with clothes all around her. ‘This,’ she said, waving her one free arm in a chaotic fashion. ‘I swear the kids get through three outfits each a day. It’s like painting the Forth Bridge but at least doing that you’d get some fresh air rather than being stuck inside all the time. Why isn’t being naked socially acceptable?’ Her eyes told Anna this was a genuine question.

Anna studied the piles of dirty clothes. ‘How do they wear this much?’

‘These people are experts. They train hard. They’re at the peak of their performance. I have bred Olympic mess makers.’

‘Takeaway coffee and a walk round the park?’ suggested Anna with a weak smile.

Sophie decided to bring Arlo because Dave was complaining he couldn’t do what he needed to and watch both the children.

Arlo had found a giant stick and like an overenthusiastic Labrador was attempting to drag it along with him, but at least he’d tire himself out and Sophie might even be in for the rare treat of an undisturbed night’s sleep.

‘You okay?’ asked Anna, sounding tentative.

‘My eyes have more bags than a schoolkid with PE and Food Tech on the same day, my husband is as useful as go faster stripes on a tortoise, my children act like they’ve been raised by hyperactive wolves and I haven’t slept properly since the millennium.’

‘Same as usual then,’ said Anna.

‘You know, I actually fantasise about sleeping for a whole uninterrupted eight hours.’ Sophie stared off into the distance and sipped her coffee thoughtfully. ‘Sleep is my fantasy. It used to be Ryan Gosling, and before him it was Robert Pattinson.’

‘I thought it used to be David Beckham.’

Sophie nodded. ‘Him too. Oh, who am I kidding? I couldn’t be bothered even if he turned up on my doorstep. I’d end up getting him to play with the kids while I went for a nap. Victoria Beckham’s very lucky. Her David is a real family man, he’s loaded, has world-renowned dress sense and he’s gorgeous. In life’s lottery I got my David. He’s a real ale man, all his money goes on the mortgage and bills, most homeless guys are better dressed than he is and he has the kind of face that perfectly describes the word “gormless”.’

‘Ouch, that’s harsh.’

‘I don’t mean it to be. But when you step back and examine the decisions you made that brought you to where you are now. It makes you question and compare.’ She paused. ‘Arlo, the stick won’t go through that gap. It’s going to snap in half and hit you in the face if you’re not careful!’ Sophie threw her hands up in despair. ‘It’s non-stop. This week I’ve got loads to do at work for this big meeting. It’s Kraken’s birthday so Dave slipped into conversation that it’d be nice if the kids made her a card and Arlo needs some cakes for school because they’re celebrating VD Day.’

‘Blimey that’s fully inclusive for you.’ Anna laughed but Sophie didn’t join in. ‘Do you mean VE Day?’

‘Hmm?’ Sophie was deep in thought. ‘I don’t know if I can do this any more, Anna.’ Sophie stopped walking and Anna patted her arm.

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I do. I really do.’

They walked in silence for a while. Sophie took in great lungfuls of fresh air. Sometimes it made things seem a bit better. She liked to imagine the park was all hers. It was looking a luscious green in the intermittent May sunshine. There were some welcome splashes of colour thanks to the pretty pink flowers of the red campion and the last of the blossom on the hawthorn. The bluebells were carpeting the small wooded area and she had to shout at Arlo not to destroy them. Instead, he started a solo game of fetch with his stick.

A bouncy Labrador joined Arlo and took hold of the other end of the stick. ‘Hey! That’s mine,’ protested Arlo, but the dog was already winning the tug of war.

‘Why is everything a battle?’ asked Sophie, with a deep sigh, and she went to intervene.