heard about Victoria Beckham taking up knitting? And why on earth would Russell Brand be having lunch with Kate Winslet?
He drew up at the curb, parking on double yellows behind a blue Volkswagen. Louisa, in her chic, pale gray wedding suit and pink frilled shirt, jumped out of the Mercedes and disappeared inside the newsagents on Regents Park Road.
***
Ellie was queuing to pay for her newspaper and a packet of Rolos when she glanced across at the racks of magazines and saw a cover featuring a large black girl in a gold bikini and a white-blond wig. The caption shrieked, ‘Dolly Deeva: Bigger, better, and back with a splash!’
Only last night, Roo had been wondering how Dolly was doing these days. Ellie darted out of the queue and reached for the magazine, the last one on the rack. She’d buy it for Roo.
‘Whoops, sorry!’ Her elbow was jogged by another customer and the magazine almost slipped to the ground. Clutching it to her chest, she smiled apologetically at the elegant redhead in the pink and gray outfit, even though it hadn’t been her fault. The redhead graciously accepted the apology with a nod and said, ‘Where did you get that mag?’
‘Up there.’ Ellie pointed to the empty space and the redhead heaved a sigh of annoyance.
‘You mean there aren’t any more?’
‘I don’t know.’ Was she seriously expecting her to hand it over? Ellie said pleasantly, ‘I’m sure they’ll have them in another shop.’
A couple of minutes later, having paid at the counter, she made her way out of the newsagents and paused for a moment on the pavement to flick through the pages of the magazine. There was the interview, spread over two pages, with Dolly insisting that her boob-flashing days were behind her and, what’s more, she was now a born-again Christian who didn’t go anywhere without her Bible. Squeezing between a dark gray Mercedes and a sky-blue VW Beetle, Ellie crossed the road and headed up the hill towards Nevis Street. From what Roo had told her about Dolly Deeva, she’d have a good laugh about that.
***
‘There you are! I thought the car was empty.’
Zack straightened up. ‘I was just sorting through the glove compartment. Found some CDs I’d forgotten about.’ He showed her what he’d unearthed. ‘And a bag of Liquorice Allsorts!’
‘Ugh, don’t eat them, they’ll be moldy.’ Louisa settled herself into the passenger seat. ‘I couldn’t get the mag I wanted, some girl grabbed the last one. So annoying. Anyway, I found some others instead.’ She patted the three glossy magazines on her lap. ‘These’ll keep me going until we get to Bristol.’
‘Good.’ Zack slotted his long-lost Gogol Bordello CD into the machine, pressed Play, and started up the car. ‘Have you heard this before? It’s brilliant.’
Less than two minutes later, Louisa reached out and turned it down. ‘Ooh, can you believe it? What a liar!’ She jabbed her finger at the photograph of a well-preserved former Bond girl. ‘She’s fifty-five if she’s a day, and she says she’s never had Botox!’
***
‘Zack, I’m so sorry. I just can’t cope anymore. I thought I could, but I can’t. It’s too much.’
‘Really?’ Zack’s first reaction was amazement; his second, relief. It hadn’t occurred to him that he was that demanding an employer. On the other hand, no more egg mayonnaise sandwiches.
Thank God.
‘It’s my husband.’ Christine wavered, her pale eyes beginning to swim. ‘He’s not… himself anymore, you see. He goes to a day center while I’m at work, but it’s at night that he’s really difficult. Wandering around the house, trying to find a way out. I’m just not getting enough sleep and I’m exhausted. So my doctor’s told me to give up work. I can’t tell you how bad I feel, letting you down like this when you’ve been so lovely to work for.’
OK, now he felt ashamed; he was selfish beyond belief. Zack shook his head and said, ‘Please, don’t feel bad. There’s no need to apologize. I’m sorry about your husband. I had no idea. Of course you need to save your energy if you’re looking after him.’ Riddled with guilt, he realized that she did look exhausted; there were dark circles under her eyes. ‘And look, don’t worry about having to work out any notice. I can manage.’
Christine gazed at him and fumbled up her sleeve for a tissue as a tear brimmed over. ‘Oh, Zack, that’s so kind. But I couldn’t do that to you. I can’t leave you high and dry.’