Mr. Smithfield - Louise Bay Page 0,6

up next month. She’d made fast friends with him as she peppered him with questions about his celebrity passengers and near misses when it came to women almost giving birth on the back seat. Her sunny nature didn’t appear to have been put on for my benefit. Or if it had, it was extended to the cabbie as well. She seemed genuinely happy. All. The. Time.

At least she hadn’t broken out into song.

We stepped out of the cab onto the street, and I lifted Bethany onto my shoulders like we normally did. This time of year, the crowds wouldn’t be too bad, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Bethany was safe and also had the best view.

“Could there be anything more iconically British then going to see the changing of the guard in a black cab?” Autumn asked, her wide smile lighting up a very dull April morning.

“Bears!” Bethany said, pointing toward the palace.

“Let’s go,” I replied. “We need to get a good spot.” There were just a few people here right now but within ten minutes, thousands would appear from nowhere like ants on ice cream.

I felt the vibration of my phone in my pocket before I heard it and my gut swirled like week-old gravy. I knew it would be Mike. I wanted to dump him as a client but with the economy in the ditch, he was the only person making sure I wasn’t pushed out of the firm. I pulled the phone from my pocket, holding both of Bethany’s legs with one hand. Even with my daughter’s splayed hands across my forehead and one eye, I could make out that it was indeed Mike.

“Work?” Autumn asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I have one particularly demanding client. Doesn’t have kids so doesn’t get wanting to be away from the office.”

“But, man, it’s the weekend.”

“Says the woman who’s hanging out with her boss and her charge.”

She laughed. “I suppose. But this is fun.” She clapped her mitten-covered hands together and turned to Bethany. “I can see the bear soldiers!”

If she was having fun, she’d stay for her full term. Bethany seemed to like Autumn, and other than her love of musicals, she wasn’t a terrible lodger. I was barely at home anyway and when I was, I spent most of the time in my workshop. For me, our arrangement was a perfect fit.

We got to the palace gates and huddled into one of the remaining slots in front of the tall black railings surrounding the palace.

“Honestly, I’ve been waiting to see this since I was nine years old,” Autumn said.

“The changing of the guard?”

“Yes. And London. And the world,” she said, tilting her head back as far as she could, as if she was trying to make out Jupiter.

“You’ve always wanted to travel?” I asked.

“Always. And when Hollie got to come to Europe first, I knew I wouldn’t be far behind. I can’t wait to see the Colosseum. The Eiffel Tower. I want to go and watch the . . .” She made pincer movements with her fingers. “You know, in Seville.”

“Flamenco?” I suggested.

“Gah,” she replied, closing her eyes and inhaling as if she was breathing in a bouquet of summer flowers. “I can’t wait. I thought I’d have to wait for paid vacation but turns out not having my job start until next September means I can spend the whole of August travelling. Things have turned out for the best.”

“Poor gold lady. She can’t see,” Bethany said, interrupting my tumble of thoughts. She patted my head and pointed at the statue of victory on top of the Victoria memorial.

“No, darling, she’s looking in the wrong direction,” I replied.

“I think she’s making sure everyone is happy,” Autumn replied. “And I’m sure someone will show her photos.”

“Yes!” Bethany said. “The Queen.”

Sometimes I wondered what thoughts raced around Bethany’s head in between her random statements. Did she think the statue came alive when the people had gone, and Victory joined Her Majesty for tea and a giggle about the ceremony? Being a father was the most rewarding, confusing, challenging thing I’d ever done and despite Bethany’s mother leaving us, I’d do it all again exactly the same in a heartbeat. Bethany was a constant reminder that someone other than myself was at the center of everything I did. It was an important reminder—one that kept me focused and determined even in the face of nightmare clients like Mike.

“Spin,” Bethany demanded, and dutifully, I turned around three hundred and sixty degrees on the