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

of yours truly.
    “He does! And he said—”
    “Bed! Now!” With a face hotter than the wood burner, Mads leaps up from the sofa and scoops her son into her arms, presumably before he can drop his parents in it any further.
    “I’ll pop the kettle on shall I?” I say sweetly, and Mads flushes an even deeper crimson.
    “Back in a minute,” she promises and heads upstairs. With every step I hear Rafferty demanding a story and, suspecting that stories operate in a similar fashion to forgetful sweets, I distract myself by having a rummage through the jumble. Several avalanches later I’ve unearthed a couple of dog-eared Jilly Coopers and a funky lava lamp that wouldn’t look out of place in Austin Power’s shag pit.
    “Have it,” Mads insists when she eventually rejoins me. “I’ll pop a donation into the funds on your behalf.”
    “Feeling guilty about letting your son believe his godmother is Tregowan’s answer to George Best?” I ask, and Mads sighs.
    “You know how seriously Richard takes these things. If he thought I’d cheated he’d feel utterly betrayed. I can’t let him down. Not when he’s trying so hard and hasn’t cracked at all. I really appreciate you covering for me when I slip up.”
    “Slip up? Mads, you’ve had the best part of a bottle!”
    “So would you if you had to sort out all that jumble! Besides, I can’t help it if I’m not as strong-minded as Richard, can I?”
    Strong-minded is a nice way of putting it. The Rev’s about as flexible as a steel girder and Mads has the self-control of… of… well, of something with zero self-control. Every year she cheats at Lent and every year I end up covering for her. It wasn’t so bad when it was chocolate or shopping she’d given up; I could take the blame for those and just look like a greedy spendthrift. But appearing to be a raging alcoholic is hardly conducive to my reputation – or Ollie’s, for that matter. The last thing Ollie needs now that he’s so career-minded is anyone at St Jude’s hearing that about me.
    “Let me make it up to you by coming up with some amazing ideas for your sample chapter,” says Mads, who knows exactly how to get around me. “Let’s have another cup of tea and get brainstorming. Just you wait! In a couple of hours’ time your notebook will be so hot it’ll burst into flames!”
    So, fortified by more wine, we work our way through the guidelines from Throb and Mads puts her thinking cap on. Before long I’m making notes on things I haven’t even imagined and she’s right! It’s so hot I’m having to fan my cheeks with the A4 sheets. By the time Richard arrives home (the wine glasses having been safely washed up and put away, and two mugs of very non-alcoholic coffee having been placed innocently in front of us), I have so many ideas that my head’s spinning. I kiss my best friend goodnight, wave to Richard and head back home, filled with optimism.
    I can do this. I know I can. The Throbcontract is as good as in the bag. Alexi and Lucinda had better be ready – they’re in for a very busy time!
     

Chapter 6
    I love Saturdays! There’s nothing better than waking up with the blissful knowledge that the whole weekend is still ahead, brimful of possibilities and acres of free time. It’s impossible to lie in when there are seagulls tap-dancing on the rooftop and a boisterous red setter leaping onto the bed demanding walks and attention, so usually Ollie and I get up early and have breakfast together before taking Sasha for a long walk.
    OK, maybe I’m using a little bit of artistic licence here. What I should say is that we have breakfast together and then Ollie and Sasha go for a long walk while I potter around the house and think about writing my book, which can take ages. Sometimes they’re back before I’ve even typed a word. This is because thinking about writing a book is a very serious thing indeed, and although Ollie reckons I’m just wasting time checking Facebook and