Read Online Katy Carter Wants a Hero by Ruth Saberton - Free Book Online Page B

next forty years.
    In spite of all my good intentions I pour another glass of wine. I’m going to have to tell James the truth about tonight or our marriage is going to be totally based on a lie.
    ‘Darling—’ I begin, but am rudely interrupted by the buzzer.
    ‘I’ll get it!’ cries James. ‘It’s bound to be Julius; he was just behind me in the clubhouse.’
    I give up and let him rush to the door. If he was a dog he’d be barking excitedly and wagging his tail. It looks like I’m going to have to lie through my teeth this evening and fess up later.
    Oh what a tangled web…
    ‘Katy!’ cries James, bursting back into the kitchen. ‘Julius and Helena are here!’
    ‘How marvellous,’ I trill, like a character from a Noël Coward play. ‘How super to see you both!’ and I air-kiss the twig-like Helena and try to do the same to Julius. Unfortunately Julius Millward is an old lech of the first order and manages to plant his wet rubbery lips on mine and give my bottom a squeeze. It’s all I can do not to puke into the carrots.
    ‘Something smells divine,’ booms Julius as James pours him a glass of wine.
    Helena is peeking into the pans.
    ‘What’s in this?’ she demands, sniffing suspiciously. ‘Is there cream in it? I can’t eat dairy.’
    ‘Um,’ I say helplessly. I haven’t a flipping clue what’s in it.
    Helena glares at the sauce. ‘It looks like cream to me. And brandy? I can’t drink alcohol, you know. I’m detoxing.’
    I want to grab her head and ram it in the saucepan. Why on earth go to a dinner party if she’s on a detox diet?
    ‘Stick your detox diet up your arse, you raddled old bag,’ I say.
    Actually I don’t say that but I’d like to. What I really say is a very apologetic mutter about how there’s only a bit of cream in it, which could be true for all I know. Fortunately Julius saves the moment by booming that it’s about time she had a ‘bloody good feed’ and whisking his wife away from the kitchen and into the sitting room. Then the doorbell shrills again and moments later I hear the haw-haw tones of Ed and Sophie Grenville.
    Gritting my teeth so hard that I’m amazed they don’t shatter, I pick up the wine and glasses and force myself to be sociable.
    ‘Katy!’ Sophie brays, and we do the air-kissing thing. ‘What a sweet little outfit! Where’s it from, Agnès B?’
    Something in Sophie, possibly the way she acts as though she’s still head girl and about to banish me on to the lacrosse pitch, brings out the worst in me.
    ‘Trousers from Topshop, jumper from House of Oxfam,’ I tell her breezily and have the satisfaction of her hand recoiling from my shoulder. ‘They have some real bargains. I’ll have to show you.’
    ‘Oh! Lovely,’ says Sophie, as enthusiastically as though I’d asked her to eat worms for dinner.
    James shoots me a look that I choose to ignore. Three glasses of wine have made me bold. Sod him.
    ‘I’ll get it!’ I say brightly as the doorbell sounds again. ‘That’ll be Ollie and his dinner date.’
    ‘No doubt some random tart,’ I hear James say nastily. Sometimes I really don’t like my fiancé very much, and I have a distinct feeling that now is one of those times.
    I open the door and in bounds Sasha, all lolling pink tongue, drooling mouth and long ears. Definitely not the dinner date I had in mind.
    ‘Are you mad?’ I hiss. ‘James hates dogs! He’s allergic.’
    Ollie fixes me with a steely gaze. ‘I’m not leaving her on her own all evening, not when I’ve spent all day over here saving your neck. Especially not because of,’ he practically spits the name, ‘James.’
    ‘Point taken.’ I glance nervously at the sitting room door. ‘Let’s pop her into the office and she can sleep there.’
    Ollie looks a bit put out but shoves Sasha into our tiny box-room-cum-office, where James’s Mac beeps and whirs to itself on the desk surrounded by stacks of neat papers and his briefcase stands guard by the