She gets caught up in the throng of people clamouring to get on the already packed carriage. There’s pushing, tutting and the occasional shout of, ‘Move the fuck down’, which, if it had been winter, would have been, ‘Can you move down please?’ The heat does funny things to you.
Kate clings on to the rail, eyeing the healthy-looking young guy who is slouched in the preferential seat for the elderly and pregnant. She fantasizes that in the weeks and months to come she’ll bare her bump and demand that he give up his seat, but right now, she looks like she’s just had a heavy lunch. She’d be happy if that was the truth, but she can’t remember the last time she had a decent meal, her insides unable to cope with the mere thought of carbohydrates and protein. So, to save herself from starving to death, and on Matt’s insistence, she’d taken to carrying a box of cereal around in her bag – the cardboard-tasting flakes being the only thing she can stomach right now.
She gets off at Canary Wharf and watches in awe as fellow commuters rush past her on the escalator. Men, with sweat staining their shirts, race up the steep risers towards civilization. The women take their time, preferring to be taken down in the apocalypse than display a wet patch on their blouse.
The coolness of the air-conditioned office building is a welcome relief, but as she’s waiting for one of the lifts, her phone rings.
‘Hello darling, it’s only me,’ says Rose. ‘I’m glad I caught you.’
Kate can’t help but sigh. ‘What’s up?’
‘Well, I just wondered if you’d spoken to Lauren at all.’
‘Not for a couple of weeks, no,’ says Kate.
‘It’s only that I wondered if there was a problem between you . . .’
‘I don’t know, is there?’
‘She won’t admit it to me,’ Rose goes on. ‘But I’m pretty sure she’s still talking to that girl, or maybe even seeing her.’
For a split second, Kate doesn’t know who her mother’s referring to, but then the cold hard realization hits her. She’d spent the last couple of weeks desperately trying to silence the noises in her head, refusing to let Jess infiltrate her thoughts, which had been easier to do without Lauren to constantly remind her. Though she had to admit that, even for them, two weeks was a long time to go without speaking and she missed her. Could she dare to hope that the next time they spoke, any thought of Jess being their half sister would be forgotten? It didn’t sound like it.
‘I’m really not interested,’ she says.
‘It’s breaking my heart, all of this,’ says Rose, her voice cracking. ‘I can’t bear it when you two aren’t talking.’
‘We’re just busy,’ says Kate, by way of an excuse, but even she’s not falling for it.
‘Goodness knows the girl’s caused enough grief as it is, let’s not let her ruin everything.’
Kate stops herself from saying, She already has.
‘Lauren is a grown woman,’ she says instead. ‘She can do what she wants.’
‘Not if it’s at the expense of the family.’
‘You keep talking about this wonderful family of ours, as if it’s the Holy Grail,’ says Kate, seeing red. ‘That we’re somehow untouchable by anything immoral or unethical. But guess what, Mum – right now, we’re in the middle of a shitstorm, all lined up like sitting ducks, waiting for the bullet that is going to blow us all to smithereens.’
‘If you’re referring to your dad—’ starts Rose.
‘I’m referring to you,’ snaps Kate. ‘When are you going to stand up and take responsibility for what you’re putting your precious family through?’
There’s a deathly silence at the other end of the line and Kate instantly wishes she could suck her words back in. She’d not intended to say them. She hadn’t expected to be brave enough.
‘We obviously need to talk,’ says Rose eventually.
Kate breathes out. Finally we’re getting somewhere.
‘Can you come over at some point this week?’ asks Rose.
‘Yes, of course,’ says Kate, suddenly eager to sound conciliatory. ‘I can probably pop in the day after tomorrow.’
‘Fine, I’ll see if Lauren can get cover for the kids for an hour,’ says Rose. ‘But Kate . . .?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
‘Be ready for some home truths.’
The poor signal in the lift ends the call and Kate spends the twenty seconds of peace it affords her to try and control the apprehension that is tightening her chest. It’s not long, but it gives her the time she needs to arrive at the news floor with a smile on her face.
‘Those pictures have come in,’ says Daisy eagerly, as soon as Kate reaches her desk.
‘Great, what are they like?’
‘I’ll ping them over to you now.’
Kate throws her bag onto the desk and stands over her computer terminal. If these mobile-phone shots of a pop star they’ve been promised are good enough, it’ll be a front-page lead and all she’ll have to do is write a quick caption before she heads home.
Her phone rings again as she taps impatiently on her keyboard, waiting.
‘Yes,’ she says, without knowing who’s calling.
‘Hey, it’s only me,’ says Matt. ‘You okay?’
She wants to tell him that no, she’s not okay. Her family are driving her insane, the heat is killing her, she could fall asleep standing up and she’s sure that her ankles have swollen, but she’s already bored of herself.
‘I’ve been rushing around all day, so I’m a little bit tired,’ she says instead. ‘I’m just going to wrap things up here, head home and have an early night.’
‘Ah, okay,’ says Matt. ‘A few of us are going for a quick drink after work. I was going to ask if you fancied coming with us.’
‘Mmm, I think I’ll give it a miss if you don’t mind.’
Matt’s colleagues on the news desk are far more testosterone-fuelled than
