Page 10

‘I’m sorry.’ Kat gives five angry blinks. ‘What?’

‘Apology accepted. Just to clarify – I just got you into all 150 Book Haven stores.’

‘I … wow.’ Kat looks conflicted. ‘But we can’t cut the book that much.’

‘Why not?’

‘We don’t have the resources,’ says Kat. ‘I barely have time to edit right now, let alone re-edit. And we’d have to create a whole new cover and put second edition on all the systems and … we just can’t.’

‘Well, I’m not asking you to do it,’ says Freddy. ‘Get your team on it.’

‘My team?’ Kat laughs. ‘Gabriela has a sick cat, so she’ll be no use this week. Alan still isn’t A1 after his cataract surgery. Duncan won’t function with his instant coffee all over the floor. And no, he won’t want coffee from your fancy machine, before you ask. He is a creature of habit. What you’re asking is for me to do extra work. And I already have too much to do.’

‘Kat. Listen.’ Freddy puts both hands on Kat’s desk. ‘You do no marketing whatsoever, have terrible, wordy titles and overly long books and yet you still have runaway bestsellers every year. You have something good going here. But you need staff who can take you forward, not people who hold you back. Let me help you.’

Freddy gives a pointed scan of the office, gesturing to an overweight man quietly snoozing under a tartan bucket hat and an elderly chap flagrantly booking a Caribbean cruise on his work computer with the help of a magnifying sheet.

‘I’ve been running this business for over a decade without your help.’ Kat’s left eye twitches. ‘This is how Little Voice rolls. I do most of the work and occasionally lose my temper and shout at people. We are a moderately happy, dysfunctional family turning a minor profit.’

‘Darling, your profits are dwindling every year,’ says Freddy.

‘It’s not dwindling –’

‘It’s erratic,’ says Freddy. ‘All over the place. Some months it’s great. Others, you have no output whatsoever. You don’t even get books out of the door.’

‘That’s because …’ Kat shakes her head. ‘Never mind. I’m working on increasing my output.’

‘You shouldn’t,’ says Freddy. ‘You should work on delegating. Or hiring staff who know what they’re doing.’

Kat sighs. ‘I don’t have time to delegate. Thank you for this new coffee-machine soon-to-become-a-paperweight. Now if you don’t mind, I have even more work to do.’

Freddy knows he should leave, but he watches Kat for a few more seconds. Truthfully, he finds her fascinating.

Freddy understands people instinctively, discovering their flaws with unnerving ease. But Kat is different. There is no angle. Nothing to be worked on. He wonders how clearly she sees him. Whether she can tell that, underneath the bluff and bravado, he’s homesick for something. There are moments when the glint in his eye fades and something quieter emerges. Regret, maybe. Or hope. Or both.

CHAPTER6

I must look pale as we herd away from the woodland clearing, because Aunt Caro offers me her hip flask. I gratefully accept.

‘I’ve sterilised the lid,’ she reassures me, unnecessarily, as I take a swig.

Chris is married.

He’smarried.

I don’t know what else I was expecting on his wedding day. But it hurts. I love him. Still.

Sylvia tugs at the shoulders of my woolly dress then smooths down my hair. ‘Come on. Let’s get you a plate of that awful finger food over there. Then you can meet this dentist.’

Chris and Minola sit at a top table of sorts – a giant, upturned wooden spindle set with silver goblets, jewelled plates and a load of woodland detritus. There are no seats for the rest of us.

‘Katerina.’ Freddy’s clipped accent interrupts my misery. ‘This is a great time to talk business, don’t you think?’

‘We are not talking business.’

Ding, ding, ding!

At the top table, Chris stands, tapping his newly ringed finger on a tumbler of pink liquid. I’m guessing the pink liquid is Chris’s infamous sherry, vodka and scrumpy cider cocktail, because he’s already swaying like a jetty on gently lapping water.