Read Online Katy Carter Keeps a Secret by Ruth Saberton - Free Book Online

of my face. Jumping up, she heads for the fridge. Returning with another bottle and twisting off the screw cap, she refills our glasses and settles back onto the sofa. “I think you’re worrying too much about Ollie, babes. None of us are twenty-five anymore and it’s not unusual for a guy to want promotion at our age. Richard was just the same: he wanted his own parish and the chance to prove himself. That’s why we came to Tregowan.”
    I nod but I’m not convinced. Richard and Ollie are nothing alike. The Rev probably won’t be happy until he’s Archbishop of Canterbury or something, but Ollie’s never been the kind of person who wanted to follow the management route. Something’s changed but I’ve no idea what.
    “My guess is he wants to prove himself in his new school,” Mads concludes. “From what you tell me that’s going to be really hard work, so he’ll have to put in a lot of time and effort. I wouldn’t read too much into any of it if I was you.”
    She’s right. Of course she is. I know how hard heads of departments in secondary schools have to work, and this certainly accounts for Ollie being exhausted and stressed. I’m shattered after just a day of supply teaching, so it’s no wonder he’s worn out. But what this doesn’t explain is why he felt the urge to take the job in the first place. If it’s because we need the money, then I’d feel dreadful. I have to find a way of taking the pressure off him and pulling my weight financially, which could start with winning the contract to write for Throb…
    Writer’s block is not an option. It’s time for that brainstorming session.
    I’m just reaching into my bag to dig out the brief when a pyjama-clad Rafferty pads into the sitting room demanding a drink. With ruffled dark curls, pink chubby cheeks and a teddy bear clutched to his chest he looks so cute that even my hard teenager-teaching heart melts. I have the cutest godchildren! OK, so as a godmother I’m a bit lacking in the moral and religious parts of my duties, but with Richard at the helm I’m sure they’re more than well provided for on that score. I’m very good at other bits such as the buying of McDonald’s and accidentally teaching them swear words. I’m also an excellent teller of bedtime stories and, as soon as he clocks me, Rafferty demands one.
    “No way,” his mother says sternly. “It’s way past bedtime. You need to get straight back up those stairs.”
    Rafferty’s bottom lip juts out. Then he sees the two wine bottles on the table and his eyes widen.
    “Grown-up drink! Daddy says no grown-up drink! Naughty Mummy!”
    Ah yes. Just to complicate life Richard and Maddy have given up alcohol for Lent, or rather Richard has and his wife is humouring him. Personally, I’d have given up being bossed about by the Rev, and for a bit longer than Lent too – but Mads says give and take is all part of a marriage and, anyway, what Richard doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
    “But isn’t that lying?” I’d asked, a bit confused by the moral quicksand I’d found myself immersed in. But Mads just grinned and said she’d crossed her fingers when they’d agreed. I’m still not convinced this would stand up in a court of law or with Jesus either if he were to pop in and enquire, but since I’m not a vicar’s wife, or anyone’s wife actually, what do I know?
    “That’s Katy’s drink,” Mads says swiftly, shooting me a look that says part of being a godmother is very definitely letting Mummy off the hook while I look like a complete booze hound. “Mummy’s going to have a nice cup of tea.”
    “One bottle. Two bottles.” Rafferty counts. “Is Katy always very thirsty, Mummy? Is that why Daddy says she drinks too much?”
    “Daddy doesn’t say that!” Mads is bright red. And so she should be. I’m losing count of how many times I take the blame for whatever madcap scheme she’s dreamt up. Thinking I’m a lush is probably one of the nicer opinions he holds