‘Why don’t I take you out for coffee?’ Austen said it generally, but Annie knew she wasn’t included.
‘You all go. I’ll hang on here.’ Annie buried her face in Hector’s hair. Not wanting to see the relief that was probably painted all over Austen’s face.
‘You are a doll,’ Louisa said, her smile swift and conspiratorial.
‘Thanks.’ Henrietta’s face was shining with happiness.
‘Are you sure?’ Charlie looked worried, biting his lip.
‘Of course she is,’ Marie answered for her. ‘She is the best person to stay. She had Hector all night.’
Annie couldn’t help but look up at that and almost without thinking the first person she looked to was Austen.
His lips thinned and he frowned at Marie before looking up to catch Annie watching.
Ah, that was what had been missing from this touching reunion, flaming red cheeks. Was she going to add to her indignity by spontaneously combusting?
For a brief second they looked at each other. Was that contempt or pity she thought she saw on his face?
Contempt was preferable.
Being pitied was … She looked away. Was she really pitiable?
Yeah, she was some kick-ass career woman who still couldn’t say ‘no’ to her family. She was in the exact same place where he’d left her, whilst he …
‘See you later,’ said Louisa as she grasped Austen’s hand and pulled him along with her. With various goodbyes from everyone, suddenly the kitchen was empty of all but her, Hector, and Angelique.
‘You should’ve gone,’ Angelique said, her arms crossed and looking at Annie fiercely.
‘It’s okay.’ Annie shifted Hector back into his seat. He’d lost interest in making a scene as soon as there was no audience. He’d inherited a fair set of the Elliot genes.
‘Humph,’ Angelique said and pulled a face. ‘I can look after Hector. You can still follow them.’
And she’d be like a puppy begging for attention.
‘No, it’s okay. I’ll settle Hector.’
***
‘Where the hell have you been?’ Annie cringed as Cassie shouted from her office. For such a small person she could produce a hell of a noise.
After Louisa had come back in swooning over Austen and Marie had preened about things he had supposedly said about her TV career, Annie had felt as if she was being suffocated. She thought she’d rather take her chances with Cassie than the burn in her chest, which she was realizing wasn’t heartburn from too much black coffee but regret.
Then Charlie spoke about how he and Austen were going to see a Premier League match. Annie had made her excuses and fled. Sod what Cassie would say.
It was as if she had stepped into an alternate universe where she had slept for eight years and woken up to find Austen was part of her family.
Only in this universe he wasn’t her Austen.
Annie had hoped to slink into the office and look like she had been at her desk for a while.
‘I was at Marie’s …’ she said quietly.
‘When will you tell your stupid family where to stick it? They have a housekeeper, Anne Elliot,’ Cassie interrupted as she came into Annie’s office glaring. ‘This was a big thing for you and for the agency. This wasn’t some two-bit party. This is your career. I need you to focus on this. This is the big break we need. This is all you’ve talked about for years. Years, Annie. If you can’t stand up to your family then we have a big problem. Big.’ Cassie flailed her hands around emphasizing exactly how big a problem they had.
‘Look, I’m sorry but I’m no good at those big parties. I wouldn’t have made a good impression,’ Annie lied. Because when she wasn’t around her family she could hold her own with most anyone. ‘I’ll meet the rest of the cast at the run-through next week. It will be best that way; I’ll be working rather than just being a hanger-on.’ She tried to placate Cassie.
‘Jesus, Annie, when are you going to figure out that you aren’t a hanger-on?’ Cassie was standing in front of Annie’s desk, waving her hands around. Annie was worried that she would knock down the files from the shelves that were attached to the walls of the tiny office. ‘You’re stepping up and taking over as a producer on this movie. You. Not your dad, not either of your sisters, not even Lily. You. That is who Eric Cowell and Les Dalrymple have hired.
‘What will it take to get it through your thick head? I swear to God I could strangle you sometimes.’ And on that dramatic declaration, Cassie stormed out of Annie’s office; taking one step to cross the hall and enter her own office.
‘I’d be slamming my door if I had one,’ she shouted.
Annie smiled.
‘And we’re meeting the producers for drinks so don’t even think of backing out.’
Cassie was right. She needed to get with the programme. This was her job, her career. She hadn’t been hired to babysit her family, no matter what they thought. She was the producer.
***
Annie’s plain black dress wasn’t too crumpled for being in a bag overnight. She smoothed one long crease as she followed Cassie’s bouncing curls into Shoreditch House. During the trip across London, Cassie had been silent in the car Eric had sent for them.
This wasn’t good.
She needed to pull out all the stops.
Professional Anne Elliot.
‘Cassie.’ A booming North-London-accented voice reverberated round the upper floor bar, half empty in the early evening. ‘Great to see you again.’ The man it came from was only a bit taller than Cassie. Annie wasn’t sure how that amount of body could produce that volume of voice.
‘And you’re Anne Elliot.’ He shook her hand and looked her up and down. ‘You don’t look much like your sisters.’ Annie concentrated on the slight American twang in Eric’s voice rather than the words.
She counted to three.
‘I’m the changeling,’ she said with a smile.
‘She’s the one who keeps them on the straight and narrow,’ Cassie interrupted with a quick squeeze on Annie’s arm in apology. It acted like a balm on Eric’s thoughtless comparison. ‘And that makes her priceless.’
They all sank into squishy brown suede winged chairs. Music softly piped from speakers round the room.
‘Annie, I’m sorry you couldn’t meet the rest of the cast last night. But it is good we can have this talk here.’ Eric leaned forward, his feet not quite touching the ground. Annie tried not to giggle as he swung his legs, looking like a child playing at being an adult.
‘Les and I are really excited to have you on board. We’ve heard such great things about the Northanger Agency.’
The worried, heavy feeling in Annie’s chest warmed and loosened, even as she could feel herself blush at the compliment.
‘Well I mean, Cassie is also …’
‘No, I know Cassie is just as talented, but I wanted you. This is a tough job balancing the usual accountancy work with what will be my person on the ground, troubleshooting anything that needs it.
‘I’ve been asking around about you, Annie, and I like what I hear. Doesn’t take nonsense, goes the extra mile. In fact from what I can gather you have been doing a producer role on your last few productions.’
Where