Read Online Cat on a Hot Tiled Roof by Anna Nicholas - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anna Nicholas
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you came back more often. Don't you miss running the firm?'
  'Nope. It suits me perfectly and Rachel loves being the boss.'
  'That girl will be running the country one day,' he says grumpily.
  'We live in hope.'
  I ask him about his latest romantic disaster.
  'Splitting up with Julia has been painful not least because she could get me any medication on the market,' he says mournfully. 'She gave me some beta blockers for my last birthday, which was thoughtful.'
  It must have been a blow to lose Julia. A nurse doesn't fall into a hypochondriac's lap every day, not even a tipsy one.
  'Can't you make it up with her?'
  He chokes on a breadcrumb. 'Good God, no! Too late for that. She's got another bloke, a saxophonist from Muswell Hill.'
  'You'll find someone else.'
  He takes a deep breath. 'Actually, I've met a New Yorker called Charlene.'
  'Met? Where?'
  He frowns and says nothing.
  'Oh, not another Internet babe?'
  'This one is different. She's normal.'
  'How do you know?'
  He whips out a photo. 'Isn't she great?'
  In fairness, she has a nice smile and a full set of teeth.
  'Hmm. What does she do?'
  'She works in the travel industry and can get me cheap flights to New York.'
  'But you won't fly.'
  'I visited you,' he huffs.
  'Only because Julia gave you Valium and forced you on the plane.'
  'Well, it's early days.'
  He gulps at his coffee and looks lovingly at his chocolate cake.
  'So, what's Alan up to?'
  'Our friend Pep has just bought a holiday flat in the port which he's going to rent and has asked Alan to manage the bookings. No doubt it will end in tears.'
  'Why Alan?' Ed anxiously stuffs a piece of cake in his mouth.
  'He trusts him and besides, Pep says he's got other fish to fry. Actually, I'd rather not know about his other ventures. It's safer.'
  Ed swallows hard. 'He's always sounded like a shady chap to me. Do watch Alan.'
  I laugh. 'Pep's far less dodgy than Greedy George.'
  'Any news on that front?'
  'He's just over from the Big Apple so we're meeting up later. He's now designing leather wear for cats.'
  His large eyes freeze. 'You are joking?'
  'Sadly not.'
  'I'm highly allergic to cats.'
  'Lucky he's not employing you then.'
  He guffaws. 'Odd you and I both having a connection in New York now.'
  I groan. 'Actually, Rachel's about to take on another New York client. A loopy interior designer we met this morning.'
  His face brightens. 'Just think, we could all meet up in Manhattan. Wouldn't that be a hoot?'
3 p.m., the office, Berkeley Street
Rachel is weaving a pen through her locks and leaning back in a black leather office chair, heels skimming the edge of the desk. A half-eaten sandwich sits on a plate next to a long abandoned mug of tea. She greets me with a weary expression as I pop my head round the door.
  'I might as well give up trying to have any lunch. The phones never stop.'
  'You should get out of the office more.'
  'Easier said than done.'
  I pull out a chair and survey her as she grabs at the ringing phone like a snappy croc. 'Who? Tell them I'm in a meeting.'
  I wait till she drops the phone back on its cradle and her legs to the floor. She sits upright.
  'So, what's up?'
  'I've just had an intriguing call.'
  'Mmm?'
  'Do you remember John Harris, the lawyer we met at that Asprey's party in Bond Street last year?'
  'No.'
  'He had red socks.'
  Rachel fixes me with impatient eyes. 'I try to avoid men with red socks.'
  'OK, well this chap just called to see whether we'd like to pitch for an amazing project.'
  'Which is?'
  'The definitive book of the Crown jewels. A prestigious
  'Nope. It suits me perfectly and Rachel loves being the boss.'
  'That girl will be running the country one day,' he says grumpily.
  'We live in hope.'
  I ask him about his latest romantic disaster.
  'Splitting up with Julia has been painful not least because she could get me any medication on the market,' he says mournfully. 'She gave me some beta blockers for my last birthday, which was thoughtful.'
  It must have been a blow to lose Julia. A nurse doesn't fall into a hypochondriac's lap every day, not even a tipsy one.
  'Can't you make it up with her?'
  He chokes on a breadcrumb. 'Good God, no! Too late for that. She's got another bloke, a saxophonist from Muswell Hill.'
  'You'll find someone else.'
  He takes a deep breath. 'Actually, I've met a New Yorker called Charlene.'
  'Met? Where?'
  He frowns and says nothing.
  'Oh, not another Internet babe?'
  'This one is different. She's normal.'
  'How do you know?'
  He whips out a photo. 'Isn't she great?'
  In fairness, she has a nice smile and a full set of teeth.
  'Hmm. What does she do?'
  'She works in the travel industry and can get me cheap flights to New York.'
  'But you won't fly.'
  'I visited you,' he huffs.
  'Only because Julia gave you Valium and forced you on the plane.'
  'Well, it's early days.'
  He gulps at his coffee and looks lovingly at his chocolate cake.
  'So, what's Alan up to?'
  'Our friend Pep has just bought a holiday flat in the port which he's going to rent and has asked Alan to manage the bookings. No doubt it will end in tears.'
  'Why Alan?' Ed anxiously stuffs a piece of cake in his mouth.
  'He trusts him and besides, Pep says he's got other fish to fry. Actually, I'd rather not know about his other ventures. It's safer.'
  Ed swallows hard. 'He's always sounded like a shady chap to me. Do watch Alan.'
  I laugh. 'Pep's far less dodgy than Greedy George.'
  'Any news on that front?'
  'He's just over from the Big Apple so we're meeting up later. He's now designing leather wear for cats.'
  His large eyes freeze. 'You are joking?'
  'Sadly not.'
  'I'm highly allergic to cats.'
  'Lucky he's not employing you then.'
  He guffaws. 'Odd you and I both having a connection in New York now.'
  I groan. 'Actually, Rachel's about to take on another New York client. A loopy interior designer we met this morning.'
  His face brightens. 'Just think, we could all meet up in Manhattan. Wouldn't that be a hoot?'
3 p.m., the office, Berkeley Street
Rachel is weaving a pen through her locks and leaning back in a black leather office chair, heels skimming the edge of the desk. A half-eaten sandwich sits on a plate next to a long abandoned mug of tea. She greets me with a weary expression as I pop my head round the door.
  'I might as well give up trying to have any lunch. The phones never stop.'
  'You should get out of the office more.'
  'Easier said than done.'
  I pull out a chair and survey her as she grabs at the ringing phone like a snappy croc. 'Who? Tell them I'm in a meeting.'
  I wait till she drops the phone back on its cradle and her legs to the floor. She sits upright.
  'So, what's up?'
  'I've just had an intriguing call.'
  'Mmm?'
  'Do you remember John Harris, the lawyer we met at that Asprey's party in Bond Street last year?'
  'No.'
  'He had red socks.'
  Rachel fixes me with impatient eyes. 'I try to avoid men with red socks.'
  'OK, well this chap just called to see whether we'd like to pitch for an amazing project.'
  'Which is?'
  'The definitive book of the Crown jewels. A prestigious
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