Читать книгу A Visitor at the Palace: The perfect feel-good royal romance to read this summer - Georgie Crawley, Georgie Crawley - Страница 13

‘No, I understand. Thank you for your time.’ Amy rubbed her forehead as she hung up the phone, sure that the officer on the other end must think she was a complete idiot. Of course she understood that London was a big city, and that finding one small dog in it was an almost impossible task. It was just that the facts didn’t stop her hoping.

What she couldn’t explain to the officer – who probably wouldn’t care even if she could find the words – was that Henry wasn’t just one more dog in a city that was full of them. He was special. Important.

How could she make the authorities understand how empty the house felt without Henry there? How Claire had cried herself to sleep again last night, but without a furry friend to comfort her. How Jack had gone completely silent – and stopped filling the dishwasher now Henry wasn’t there to tackle the plates. How cold and lonely Amy’s bed had been that morning, when there wasn’t a wet little nose pressing against her neck, hoping for some breakfast.

Amy glanced up at the hook where Henry’s lead hung, unused and unnecessary.

How had she never realised how much of a hole Henry would leave behind in their lives? Until now, when it was too late.

The phone in her hand beeped again, and she sank down to sit on the stairs to listen to the voicemail, left when she was on the phone to any one of a number of authorities in Greater London she’d been checking in with throughout the day.

Maybe, just maybe, one of them would be calling back to tell her they’d found Henry, at last.

She scowled automatically as Jim’s voice came on the line. One of the hardest parts about focusing on the future was the way the past kept interrupting her efforts.

‘Hey, Amy. Um, look, about this Christmas. I know we talked about me having the kids on Boxing Day, but a friend of Bonnie’s has this great cabin in the Alps, and they’ve invited us to go spend Christmas out there, skiing. I figured you wouldn’t mind – I know how you love having Christmas at home with the kids, so really, this all works out, right? Anyway, I thought I’d come see the kids Tuesday evening. Drop off presents and all that. Yeah? Okay, see you then.’

And just like that, all her plans were pushed aside, ignored, and Jim had assumed her agreement with all of them. Really, it was just like they were still married.

Oh. The thought washed over her as Amy realised something – she was glad they weren’t married any more. When Jim had first gone, she’d been distraught, wondering how she’d cope without the man she’d thought would be her partner for life.

Somehow, over the past six weeks, she’d come to see that being alone was far better than being with someone who didn’t want to be there.

Her life was wide open now – her future still to be written.

Except for the part where her ex would be stopping by on Tuesday.

Jabbing at the phone screen, Amy deleted the message, and sighed. Future later. First, she had to prepare her kids for not seeing their father at all over Christmas. And for seeing him on Tuesday.

She wasn’t entirely sure which one would go down worse.

Sighing, she checked her watch. Still too early for wine.

‘Kids?’ she called up the stairs, waiting for a thundering of footsteps or a yell to tell her they’d heard her. ‘Can you both come down here a moment.’

Might as well get it over with. Like pulling off a sticking plaster. Or a really painful bikini wax.

‘Have they found Henry?’ Claire asked, as she bounced down the stairs. ‘Is he coming home?’

Amy winced. ‘No, sweetie, I’m sorry. I just checked in with the authorities again, and there’s still no sign.’

Claire’s face fell, her blue eyes wide and sad. Amy reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against her. With Claire on the second step, and Amy on the floor, Claire was almost as tall as her.

It won’t be long before she’s grown up and leaving, too, Amy realised. Jack would be off to university in September – at least, he would if he knuckled down and got back to work. Since Jim had left, his homework had been erratic, to say the least.

Something else to worry about.

Jack appeared at the top of the stairs, his usual scowl firmly in place. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘No problem,’ Amy said, as cheerfully as she could manage. ‘Just … could you come down here a moment?’

Jack rolled his eyes, but complied. Amy led them through to the kitchen, her arm still around Claire’s shoulders.

Didn’t she have some mince pies somewhere? Talks always went better with something sweet to eat.

As she rooted around in the cupboard, Jack and Claire settled themselves at the kitchen table. Amy glanced over at them and smiled. It was almost like when they were little, again. Jack doing his homework at the table, while Claire sat close by with her colouring or stickers, asking how long it would be until she could do homework.

Of course, the novelty of that had soon worn off.

But those days, the three of them in the kitchen, the kids busy while she cooked, waiting for Jim to make it home from work, Henry barking for treats at her heels …

Amy grabbed the box of mince pies and slammed the cupboard door.

Times had changed. She had to remember that. Even if she still had hope that Henry would be home, begging for snacks again, soon.

‘So, your dad called,’ Amy said, nonchalantly. She placed mince pies on two plates, added some squirty cream from the can in the fridge, and handed them over to Jack and Claire.

Jack didn’t meet her gaze as he took the plate. ‘So?’ he asked, halfway through his first mouthful, spraying crumbs everywhere.

‘So … there’s a few changes to the plans for Christmas.’

Claire looked up, alarmed. ‘Like what? No presents?’

Of course that was her first concern. Amy sighed. ‘I’m sure there will be presents. In fact, you might even get the ones from your dad early. He’s coming by on Tuesday.’

‘Great!’ Whether Claire was more pleased about seeing Jim or the prospect of presents, Amy wasn’t sure.

Jack clearly wasn’t happy about either of them. ‘I don’t want to see him. We have to go there on Boxing Day. Isn’t that bad enough?’

Well, at least there was one part of the plan he’d be pleased with. ‘Actually, there’s been a bit of a change there, too. Your dad’s actually going away skiing for Christmas now, so we’ll have a bit longer together before you go to spend time with him.’ And Bonnie, she assumed. Not that they’d talked about it.

They should, Amy knew. And soon.

‘Brilliant. Then I’ll be out on Tuesday and I won’t have to see him at all. Perfect.’ Jack shoved the last half of his mince pie into his mouth.

‘Jack …’ Amy started, but Claire spoke over her.

‘So, we’re not seeing him at all at Christmas?’

‘You’re seeing him on Tuesday,’ Amy said, brightly. ‘In fact, we could get his presents wrapped tonight, ready to give to him. We’ll put a Christmas film on, really get in the festive mood …’

‘Have you told him about Henry yet?’ Jack asked.

Amy winced. ‘I haven’t actually spoken to him. He left a message on my phone.’

‘Meaning that you didn’t want to speak to him either,’ Jack said, astutely. ‘So how can you nag me about having to see him when you won’t?’

She didn’t have a good argument for that, not really. Only a thousand emotions that battered her heart, none of which she could put into words.

So instead, she said another true thing.

‘I’m still hoping Henry will have come home by the time we see Dad.’

‘Me too,’ said Claire, her voice very small.

Jack looked away, and Amy saw his Adam’s apple bob, hard, as he swallowed. ‘Yeah. Me three.’

Oh Henry, Amy thought. Where are you tonight?