Page 8

‘Well, how long is it?’

Kat hesitates. ‘One thousand pages.’

‘A one-thousand-page book?’

‘It did run away with us a little,’ Kat admits. ‘We probably should have edited it down more, but we were … um … under-resourced at the time. And it’s a wonderful body of work.’ She looks steadfastly at her computer. ‘It’s a study of the many different types of marriage.’

‘A one-thousand-page book about marriage?’ Freddy laughs. ‘I could write that book in two words. Don’t bother.’

‘Marriage provides security for women,’ says Kat. ‘Especially if they have children. My parents didn’t marry and … well, anyway. I’m not saying marriage is for everybody, but …’

‘You want to get married?’

Kat swallows. ‘Maybe.’

‘I’m pretty sure you do,’ says Freddy. ‘It’s on that vision board over there. ‘Get married before I turn 35.’ Right after, ‘create award-winning publishing company’ and ‘buy a house in Bloomsbury.’

Kat blushes deeply. ‘That vision board should have been updated. The last goal needs to be removed.’

‘Why? Are you older than 35?’

‘No. I’m 34.’

‘When is your birthday?’

‘December.’

‘So? That’s ten months away –’

‘Look, if you’re here to talk business, then talk. If not, go away.’

‘Sure. Okay. Actually, I wanted to ask about your lead title.’

‘It’s calledThe Conjugal Chronicles– a cultural examination of matrimony.’

‘Catchy title.’

‘Isn’t it? I love the alliteration –’

Freddy cuts her off with a sharp laugh. ‘I was being sarcastic. That title only makes sense if you have a literature degree. You should change it.’ He reaches for Kat’s phone. ‘Let me call Michael. See if I can sell this book to him better than you can.’

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Kat shrieks, trying to grab the phone.

‘Watch and learn.’ Freddy dodges her and hits redial.

CHAPTER4

Spring in England is always cold. It’s even colder if you’re sitting in a woodland clearing under a grey cloud, watching your former fiancé get married. I try to ignore Freddy’s pleasant-smelling body beside me and focus on my melancholy.

Aunty Sylvia, on the other hand, launches herself over me to shake Freddy’s hand between her gloved fingers.

‘Call me Sylvia. Aunty makes me feel old.’

‘You’re Kat’s Aunt?’ Freddy raises a dark eyebrow. ‘You don’t look alike.’

‘I’m not her aunty by blood,’ Sylvia concedes. ‘That’s Caro. But I love her more than members of my own family. Don’t let Katerina’s tough-girl act fool you. She’s a sweetheart. Do you know, she once cycled five miles in the pouring rain to bring Caro her cholesterol spread –’

‘It was only a tiny bit out of my way,’ I snap. ‘And can we please change the subject? The less Freddy knows about me the better.’