This London Love (10 page)

“You want a cup of tea?” Meg’s mum appeared from the back of the shop where she’d spent the morning poring over spreadsheets and ordering paper and ribbon. Olivia’s cream blouse clung to her slender frame perfectly and she had a spring in her step, which fairly represented her attitude towards life: grab it, live it. And that attitude had only increased after her dicing with the grim reaper.

“Go on, then. Couple of those biscuits wouldn’t go amiss either,” Meg said, through a yawn. She was still at a loss as to quite how her mum qualified as a heart attack sufferer — she was slim, walked everywhere and did yoga twice a week. But a heart attack she’d had.

The doctors had informed them it was a hereditary heart defect, which had filled her and Jamie with no end of joy. Still, it was apparently controllable with some lifestyle changes and some clever white pills. Olivia took them grudgingly. Plus, she only worked two to three days a week now, and Meg was looking forward to the time when Olivia gave it up altogether — for Olivia’s health and Meg’s sanity. It wasn’t that she didn’t like working with her mum — but, having run the show in her mum’s absence, allowing her back was proving more painful than Meg had imagined.

A few minutes later, Olivia walked back through carrying two mugs of tea. She put them down on the counter, then went to retrieve the biscuits.

“So any big plans for the weekend?” Olivia’s eyelids were painted with smoky colours, her favourite for autumn. Whereas Meg’s make-up routine had been stuck at the same level for a fair few years now, her mum was into seasonal colours and could often be seen flicking the pages of Cosmopolitan to get the latest beauty tips.

Meg shook her head. “Nothing yet. I’m doing a run on Saturday and seeing Nathan in the evening, but apart from that, no.” She bit into her custard cream and it took her right back to her childhood. Summers in the back garden playing Swingball with her brother Jamie, and splashing about in the paddling pool. Funny how tastes and smells could evoke so much emotion — Meg could almost taste the summer air, even now.

“And how is wonder boy?”

Meg smiled at her mum’s nickname for her best friend. “He’s good, you know Nathan. Nothing phases him, nothing changes. He wants to drag me out into town at the weekend, but I’m not sure I’m up for it.” Meg paused. “But Nathan says we both need an injection of excitement in our lives, so he’s determined.”

Olivia took a sip of her tea. “I’m with Nathan on this one. And don’t even get me started on the fact you’re still living with Tanya The Terrible.”

“Mum…”

“I’ve been very good at not saying anything lately, haven’t I?”

Meg nodded her head slowly. She had to admit her mum had known when to shut up of late when it came to Tanya, which was very unlike her. Olivia was usually one to get her opinions heard. From being a daily record, she was now down to once a week with her rant, perhaps once a fortnight.

“But really, that is one situation you need to sort out. Put the house on the market and move on with your life. She’s going to have to accept you’re over eventually.” Olivia’s face hardened at the mention of her daughter’s ex.

“Oh, she’s accepted it alright, she’s got plenty of new friends and admirers.” Meg couldn’t stop the bitterness creeping into her voice.

“You see!” Olivia said. “She’s over it, she’s happy as a lark living the life she wants — and what are you doing? Getting in late, avoiding her, shuffling up to your room and then spending all the hours here.”

Meg stared at the floor, not daring to look up into her mother’s eyes, because she knew what look would greet her. Concern. Pity. Disappointment. And they were the things she really couldn’t bear. And it was at times like this Meg wished she worked in a normal workplace and didn’t have to listen to her mother during the day. And of course, the worse thing about the whole sorry debacle was that her mum was 100 per cent correct.

“I know, you don’t have to keep telling me.” Meg’s cheeks were burning now. “And stop getting so worked up — it’s not good for your heart.”

“Don’t worry about my damn heart!” Olivia said.

“But I do worry.” Meg twisted her hands together.

There was silence for a couple of moments.

Then Olivia’s shoulders dropped and she sagged slightly. “Okay, you’re allowed to worry about my heart, but I’m also allowed to worry about what you’re doing with your life. So I’m saying this as your mother but also as your friend. Put the house on the market. Move in with me or Jamie or Nathan for a bit — whoever you like. But just get out of there, get your money and start again. It’s time.”

Meg looked up at her mum and knew she was right. She would. She would make the decision and move out. And whatever Tanya said, whatever obstacles she threw in her way, she would deal with them. A brief image of a new flat with brand new stainless steel appliances popped into Meg’s head and she allowed herself a fleeting smile, closely followed by a puzzled look. Because leaning up against the cooker, with a smile on her face, was Kate.

Interesting
.

15

“Any news, Hannah?” Dawn was standing with a biro poised between her thumb and index finger.

Hannah swivelled in her chair. “For?”

“Any of it - the interviews, the runners, the baby feature?”

Hannah nodded. “The Olympian is in…”

“Yes!” Dawn said, emphasising her delight with a fist pump.

“…and we’re getting some traction with the baby stuff. We’ve got a few leads on people to chase up with it. And the Christmas feature is coming along really well. Pippa Gould has agreed to be featured — and you might want to sit down.” Hannah gestured for Dawn to take the empty chair beside her.

Dawn did as she was told. “I’ve gone all tingly. Is it Carrie Branch?”

Hannah laughed. “Now I’m really going to disappoint you because, strangely enough, Carrie Branch is not chomping at the bit to share her fitness secrets with us.”

“Shame, she’d be good.”

Kate saved her current open spread and swung round into the conversation.

“No promises yet and nothing definite,” Hannah said. “But I’ve been speaking to her PR today and we might be able to get some fitness tips and tricks from Princess Emily.” Hannah sat back in her chair, a smile so big slapped across her face that Kate thought it might fall off.

“Princess Emily!?” Dawn’s excitability levels were legendary at the best of times, but Kate thought she might be about to blow a gasket. Her mouth had dropped wide open and now she began spinning on her chair like a sugar-crazed five year old.

“I love it! Yoga confessions of a royal. Just think of the front-cover splash we can put on that one.” Dawn finished spinning, had the good grace to look a bit dizzy and then snapped her fingers in front of Hannah. “But hang on — is she doing interviews again? She’s been underground for a very long time.”

“Perhaps that’s her fitness routine — stay underground where there are no shops to buy chocolate?” Kate said.

Hannah laughed. “She hasn’t done a lot of press recently, but she looks amazing and she attributes it all to her new regime — and she’s happy to share it. Plus, she’s got a new book coming out.” The features editor sat back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face.

“Good work, really good,” Dawn told Hannah. “And the running club feature’s all set?”

Hannah nodded again. “Yup. Me and Kate are going over there on Monday night. See if we can’t snag a fit runner for our esteemed art editor.” Hannah moved back in her chair, just out of Kate’s immediate range.

“You two are incorrigible. We’re going to turn up, do our work and go home. End of.” Kate shot them both a stern look, which Dawn and Hannah ignored.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dawn placed both hands on her trim thighs and pushed herself upright with a groan. “Great work, team! Now the next step of our plan will obviously be to put royalty next to a bunch of lesbians on the front cover, and then my work here is done.”

***

Kate had laid out six pages of this month’s magazine when her finger idly clicked onto the Fabulous Flowers website. It had been almost a week since she’d seen Meg and she couldn’t quite get her image out of her head, no matter how hard she tried. Which admittedly hadn’t been
very
hard. Kate’s fingers drummed on the desk as the website eased onto her screen. She automatically clicked onto the About Us page and saw an image of Meg and her mum smiling back at her. Meg had her mum’s eyes and mouth, and her mum was an extremely attractive woman.

Just laying eyes on Meg had Kate’s stomach dropping — she had to visit the florist’s again, it seemed ridiculous not to. Seize the day and all of that. Yes, she didn’t know yet whether or not Meg was a lesbian, but she was never going to know unless she… What exactly? Stalked her? Pestered her? Went into the shop wearing her rainbow scarf and her ‘This Is What A Lesbian Looks Like’ T-shirt?

Slightly over the top. Perhaps just the scarf.

Sunflowers. Kate loved sunflowers, loved the way they drooped and then sprang to life as if they’d been playing you all along. So maybe she could show up with a sunflower urge and Meg would be none the wiser. She could even stop off and see her mum later, take her some of the sunflowers — she knew her mum would like that. Kate could ask how things were progressing with Lawrence, if they were at all. Talking of which, she really must speak to Vicky — her reaction to their mum’s date had been bordering on absurd.

But back to Meg. Seemingly, Kate had made a decision. With no firm plans of her own this Friday night, Kate was going to go round to her mum’s for dinner and stop in on the way to say hi to Meg. See how her week had been, like any normal friend would.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw fingers clicking. Kate snapped out of her daze to see Henry trying to get her attention. He’d been to the barbers that morning and his beard was closely trimmed and softened to perfection. It was a magazine tradition now to stroke Henry’s beard daily. Kate swore she’d never felt hair so soft.

“You coming to the pub later?” Henry asked.

“Pub?”

Henry rolled his eyes. “You know — big building, serves beer.”

Kate shook her head. “Don’t think so. Otherwise engaged.”

Henry nodded towards his screen. “Buying flowers again?” He curled up one side of his mouth.

“Going to see my mum — can’t turn up empty-handed, can I?” Kate nudged Henry gently on the arm. “Anyhow, stop being so nosey, Mr Beard.”

“You wanna touch?” Henry leaned forward and jutted his chin towards Kate.

She stroked and let out a satisfied purr. “You could honestly sell that to insomniacs. Or maybe even market it as a pet substitute — for people who want the soothing aspects of our furry friends without the hassle of walking or feeding them. You’d make a killing.”

Henry twirled in his seat, letting his head fall back as the seat spun around. “You might be onto something there.”

***

Kate’s breathing was heavy as she exited Finchley tube — she’d decided against her bike tonight to ensure she wasn’t too sweaty on arrival. This kind of behaviour was completely out of character for her — she was used to being chased rather than being the chaser. She wasn’t one to blow her own trumpet, but she was rarely short of female attention. So long as you didn’t count the past year and a bit. Which Kate definitely didn’t.

Her last girlfriend had seemed exactly what Kate was looking for: Caroline had been edgy, gorgeous and a nurse. And nothing to do with the media industry, which Kate had warmed to. Kate had slept with too many media types in her time and she knew them back to front before they even opened their mouths.

With Caroline, it was different. She was a couple of years older, definitely wiser and not at all star-struck by what Kate did for a living. Plus, she was a nurse, which as everyone knew was a proper job. However, somewhere along the line, Caroline had deviated from their agreed path, met someone else and their relationship was brutally killed. Kate had been devastated and it’d taken this long to get over it. But now, here she was, ready to lay the curse of the past once and for all. With a woman who might not even be gay. A bold and somewhat dicey move.

Kate’s feet moved along the cracked pavement, the September air still around her. It had that clammy feel to it, almost like you could squeeze it and shape it. The air was light on her skin, and at 5pm, it held the promise of a glittering Friday night to come.

However, having willingly travelled the distance between the tube and the estate agent next to Meg’s shop, Kate panicked. What was she doing? What if Meg wasn’t even there? What if her make-believe boyfriend Phil was coming in to sweep her off her feet with chocolates and flowers? Could florists be swept off their feet with flowers, even?

Kate swallowed hard. Her nerve was leaving her, running off down the street. She stopped, stuck to the pavement, now completely focused on the estate agent’s window display. She could buy a nice flat up here if she sold hers. Perhaps even stretch to three bedrooms. But then she’d be living far too close to her mum and Kate liked a bit of distance between them; it stopped any unannounced popping in, which was a favourite pastime of Jess’s mum.