‘I’ll pay to get it repainted,’ said Stella, sensing that Catriona had perhaps been pushed too far this time. ‘But you mustn’t yell at Miley.’
‘I didn’t yell at Miley, Stella. I merely pointed out that she was defacing my walls and took away the pen.’
‘The problem is she’s so creative,’ sighed Stella, smothering her daughter with kisses. ‘Gifted children often struggle with boundaries. Don’t they, Miley-Moo?’
‘What the bloody hell happened in here?’
Ivan’s voice made both women jump. Standing in the doorway with his overnight case in his hand, he looked tired, unshaven, and distinctly grumpy.
‘Darling!’ Catriona’s face lit up. Ivan almost never came home early. ‘I wasn’t expecting you till tonight. How lovely you’re here.’
But Ivan evidently wasn’t feeling lovely. He’d forgotten Stella Bayley was down for the weekend, and was irritated to find her hanging around in his kitchen with her snotty toddler glued to her hip. ‘Who the hell scrawled shit all over my walls?’
Sensing a drama brewing, Miley secured her own starring role by bursting into noisy tears.
‘It seems Miley had a little accident with one of our permanent markers,’ explained Catriona.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Ivan turned on Stella. ‘Can’t you fucking control her?’
‘How dare you curse in front of my child!’ Stella shot back. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ Sweeping past him, a sobbing Miley in her arms, she stormed out of the room. ‘We’ll be upstairs in our room if anyone wants us,’ she called over her shoulder to Catriona. ‘Packing.’
Catriona sat down at the table with her head in her hands. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than an aspirin and to crawl back to bed. ‘That wasn’t very diplomatic, darling,’ she said to Ivan. ‘You’d better go and apologize.’
‘Apologize? Look at this shit.’ He pointed to Miley’s artistic efforts, which extended right around the base of one wall and halfway up the side of another. ‘We only redecorated at Christmas. What the hell are they doing here again anyway?’
‘You knew they were coming,’ Catriona said wearily. ‘Brett’s away again and—’
‘I don’t care. Seriously, this place is turning into a fucking doss house. We never get a weekend to ourselves.’
Lovingly, Catriona reached out and stroked his cheek. He would have to apologize to Stella. They couldn’t have the wife of one of Jester’s biggest clients storming out of the house in high dudgeon. But secretly she was pleased that Ivan wanted more family time. It was what she wanted too, more than anything.
‘I came home early to talk to you,’ said Ivan. ‘A lot of stuff’s happened at work. It’s been an exhausting bloody week, you’ve no idea.’
‘I’ll put some coffee on and make breakfast,’ said Catriona, kissing him. Her week had been exhausting too, taxiing the children around from one engagement to another, filling in Ivan’s horrifically late tax returns and cooking for an apparently endless stream of house guests. Saying no had never been her strong suit. ‘You go up and smooth things over with Stella. Then we can talk.’
‘Do I have to?’ Ivan scowled. But he knew she was right. If ever there was a time to stay on the right side of Jester’s big clients, this was it. In the coming weeks, Ivan and Jack would be battling to the death over each other’s acts. Losing his temper with Stella Bayley was hardly the best start to Ivan’s charm offensive. ‘OK.’ He kissed his wife back. ‘Sorry for being such a grump. I’d like a bacon sandwich please, extra crispy. With ketchup.’
Catriona laughed. Grumpy or not, life was always much more fun when Ivan was around.
Half an hour later, having eaten humble pie and cooed grovellingly over the ghastly Miley, Ivan had mollified Stella Bayley sufficiently to be allowed to breakfast alone with his wife.
‘Alone time is so important in a love relationship,’ Stella said earnestly, ‘especially when you have kids. It’s a real hot topic on my blog: keeping the flame alive.’
Having spent the last twenty-four hours in bed with Kendall Bryce, indulging in a sexual marathon the likes of which he hadn’t attempted since his own early twenties, the only flame Ivan was interested in was the one beneath the frying pan cooking his bacon. But he did want to talk to Cat. He needed her advice about this business with Jack and Jester, and her approval of him taking the Talent Quest job. After fifteen years of marriage, he relied on Catriona’s opinion heavily. She was the only person on earth Ivan fully trusted, and it was a relief to be able to confide in her.
After two bites of his delicious sandwich and a gulp of Earl Grey tea, he got straight to the point.
‘Jack and I have had a row.’
Catriona frowned. ‘Another one? What’s it about this time? Honestly, I do wish the two of you would work it out. You’ve been partners for so many years, and friends for even longer.’
‘Yeah, well, not any more. He says he’s leaving Jester.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ said Cat. But one look at Ivan’s face told her he wasn’t joking. ‘You actually think he means it?’
Ivan shrugged. ‘It looks that way.’
‘But why? And leaving to do what?’
Ivan gave her an edited précis of his heated phone conversation with Jack, including heavily biased accounts of Kendall’s new deal with Polydor and his own offer from ITV.
‘Jack’s jealous,’ he concluded, ‘pure and simple. He’s ticked off because I was the one who brokered Kendall’s deal, even though we’re both getting paid on it. And he’s scared shitless of me taking Jester into the twenty-first century. I swear to God, he’d have all our acts putting out albums on vinyl if he thought he could get away with it.’
‘Hmmm. I’m not sure,’ said Catriona. ‘There must be more to it than that.’ The Jack Messenger she knew was the last person likely to be motivated by petty jealousy. She could imagine Jack to be more old-fashioned in his outlook than Ivan. He was in life, so why not in business? But to break up Jester, such a wildly successful business, over such differences seemed to be a gross overreaction.
‘I think you should talk to him,’ she said at last, thoughtfully sipping her own tea. ‘Or I can if you like. Don’t forget, he’s still grieving over Sonya. People in depression often don’t make the most rational decisions. I dare say he’s already regretting what he said.’
Ivan pushed his chair back from the table sullenly. ‘Why do you always take his side?’
Catriona’s eyes widened. ‘What do you mean? I’m not taking his side.’
‘Well, you could have fooled me. I thought at least you’d be pleased about the Talent Quest thing. It’s a huge opportun-ity for me, you know.’
‘I am pleased,’ Catriona insisted. ‘I told you I was pleased. I just think that Jack—’
‘Jack’s a stubborn bloody fool!’ Ivan