CHAPTER 16

Katie

The marquee was stifling. There were pedestal fans around the sides, but they were only wafting the hot, sticky air around.

“You need to shit down—sit down,” said Cassandra. “Let’s grab a sheat.” She pulled out a chair and waved over the nearest waiter. “Bottle of Bolly over here, and water for my friend, please.”

“I don’t have bottles,” he said, “but I can see—”

“Please do. I’ll take one of those to be going on with.”

Katie lowered herself onto the chair. “Ah, that’s better. Cass, maybe you should have water, too, this time round? Pace yourself a bit? We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

“Bugger that,” said Cassandra. “This is sheriously thirshty work.”

Katie looked around for Charles, thinking it might be wise to have a quiet word, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Cassandra leaned toward her. “That Merry, I don’t trusht her. And Jesus, did you clock that white dress? All she needs is a grille to stand over for the full Marilyn Monroe. And her husband’s got to be gay. I mean, how many straight blokes do you know who tell a woman she’s channeling Hepburn?” Cassandra looked across to where Ana Lyebon was talking to a man wearing eye makeup, who might have been from Duran Duran. “Hepburn, my arse. Morticia Addams, more like.”

“The two sisters are very different,” said Katie.

“One’s too hot and one’s too cold.”

“Like the three bears’ porridge.”

The DJ spun his first disc, and a group of young women, probably from Rose, hit the dance floor.

“I feel so old,” said Katie. “And I hardly know anyone, apart from you and Charles. I’ve been so out of it all since I became a mum.”

“You know Harry’s sister. Christ, she’s a piece of work.”

Katie was finding Cassandra’s drunken bitchiness tiring. She felt herself being dragged down by the oppressive heat and her friend’s negativity.

“Oh, she’s just a bit of a flirt. I’m sure Charles thinks of her like a little sister.”

“Yeah, right. And she’s only looking at him like a big brother? Like hell she is.” She pushed her chair back suddenly, saying, “I’m going outside now, I may be some time.” Everyone at the next table heard too.

“Why? Are you too hot?” said Katie. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I need a pee, and it’s going to be a major mission in this armored underwear. Stay where you are, Katie. You’ve done your bit, you can blob for the rest of the party if you want.”

It was true. Harry didn’t need her now that everyone had arrived. She glanced over to where he was talking to the Lord Mayor of London and his wife.

Cassandra staggered off toward the exit, and Katie was glad to see her make it out of the marquee without tripping up or colliding with anything.

She watched the dance floor, feeling a stab of envy at the twentysomethings having fun. She imagined the pitying eyes seeing Katie Rose sitting alone, the pregnant wallflower sipping her sad glass of water.

Perhaps she should join Harry. She looked around again and saw him laughing heartily with a group of similarly braying men in suits.

No.

She decided to go outside for some air. Making her way to a side exit, she stepped into the gathering dusk and stopped to savor the sudden peace and the view of Hampton Court in front of her. The floodlights had been switched on, and the air was heavy with the scent of flowers from the palace gardens. A few couples were wandering along the paths, enjoying the romance of it all, and she felt very alone.

Even the baby had gone quiet. She hadn’t felt it kicking since this morning.

She took some deep breaths, but the air out here wasn’t much fresher than inside. It felt charged, crackling in anticipation of what the towering cumulonimbus overhead were threatening to unleash. A breeze scuttled briefly across her path as she set off walking again, trying to shake off a sudden restlessness.

Already her feet were protesting. She stepped onto the strip of lawn alongside the path and took off her shoes. It was bliss, the cool grass soothing her hot, swollen feet. She walked a little further before sinking down onto a bench.

Katie let the beauty of the Tudor palace wash over her. She looked up at the windows, thrown into black relief by the floodlights, and remembered a recent stroll in the grounds with Harry and Maria, Harry spooking them with stories about the palace ghosts. One was Jane Seymour, Henry VIII’s third wife, and then there was the terrified teenager Catherine Howard, his fifth, who famously ran screaming along the Haunted Gallery after news of her arrest for treason.

Katie was brought back to the present by the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Harry’s old school friend Will McCarey.

“Escaping the seething horde?” he said. “Wise move. Too hot in there for me. There are people dancing, would you believe?”

“I have the perfect Get Out of Jail Free card,” said Katie, patting her bump.

“So you do. Congratulations! Mind if I join you?”

“Oh, please do. I was feeling like the biggest wallflower in the history of bedding plants.”

“I was admiring your dress earlier,” he said, sitting down. “Do you mind?” His hand hovered over the fabric.

“Be my guest.”

“What a lovely silk.” He then suggested how she could modify it into a cocktail dress later on. What a nice man.

“Quite a pad, isn’t it?” he said, looking around at the palace, its colors now fading in the twilight.

“I was just thinking about its history. The ghosts. I don’t really believe in them. Do you?”

Will smiled.

“The spirit-world around this world of sense

Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere

Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense

A vital breath of more ethereal air.”

Katie looked at him in surprise. “Oh, that was beautiful!”

“Longfellow. It goes a bit bonkers at the end, but it’s one of my favorites.”

“Are you a fan of poetry?”

“Had it drummed into me at school. But yes. Your Harry was good at it—he wrote it too. Wasn’t half-bad.”

“He can be pretty creative.”

“Would you like to know a secret?”

Katie wondered what on earth this person she hardly knew was about to share. “I don’t know, would I?”

“I had a big crush on your husband at school. I decided I was the only one who understood him.”

“Oh. I see! Well, I had a crush on a girl. Letty Anders. Long golden hair. That’s single-sex schools for you.”

“Indeed,” said Will, and they were quiet again.

A fat raindrop plopped into Katie’s lap, making a dark blot on the silk, and they looked up at the sky just as lightning flashed over to the north, silhouetting the tall Tudor chimneys. There was a distant rumble.

“Looks like our time’s up,” said Will.

They were just getting up to go, Will gallantly offering his arm, when the sound of someone yelling reached them. It seemed to be coming from the maze, which was a short distance away.

“Too funny,” said Will. “Someone’s lost in the maze and there’s going to be a thunderstorm.”

“Surely the maze is out of bounds?” said Katie.

“Wouldn’t you have? When you were a bright young thing?”

“That stage seemed to pass me by.”

The yelling came again. It was a woman’s voice.

“Perhaps we should investigate?” said Katie as more raindrops smacked into the path.

But a maze rescue wasn’t necessary. Cassandra appeared out of its entrance at a run, closely followed by Charles, who was calling to her to stop. Finally, Megan appeared behind them.

“Oh no,” said Katie. “Cassandra!”

“Stop her, Katie!” called Charles. “There’s been a misunderstanding!”

Katie moved to block Cassandra’s path. She didn’t want her friend making an exhibition of herself inside the marquee.

The gravel hurt her feet.

“Katie, be careful,” called Will.

Cassandra ground to a halt and turned on Charles, who had quickly caught up. Behind them, Megan slowed to a walk.

“You BASTARD!” Cassandra shrieked.

“Calm down, Cassandra, for god’s sake,” said Charles. “We were just fooling around in the maze.”

“Fooling around? FOOLING AROUND? You were kissing! BASTARD!” She swayed, and Katie reached out to steady her.

“Cassandra, this isn’t the time or place,” Katie said. “You and Charles can talk when you get home. Which should probably be soon.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” said Megan, catching them up. Her cheeks were pink and her lipstick smudged. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Shut up, slut,” spat Cassandra. “You wheedle your way in here with your stupid non-job so you can steal my fucking HUSBAND . . .” Then suddenly she was launching herself at Megan.

Instinctively, Katie moved to pull her off, but as she grabbed Cassandra around the waist, her friend pushed her away, catching her in the stomach with her elbow.

Pain shot through Katie’s abdomen, and she cried out, doubling over.

Charles hauled Cassandra off Megan, then crouched down at Katie’s side, searching her face. “Katie, are you OK?”

Cassandra’s hands flew to her mouth. “Katie, I’m—”

Charles turned on her, his expression full of disgust. “Fuck off, Cassandra. Just fuck the hell off.”

“No, I’m not all right,” gasped Katie as pain ripped through her stomach. A clap of thunder exploded over the palace, and the rain grew heavier. “I think the baby’s coming, but it’s too early.” Despair washed over her, and she began to cry. “I’m going to lose it again, Charles, aren’t I?”

“No, Katie, you’re going to be all right. We’ll get you straight to hospital, try not to panic.”

He turned to Megan. “Find Harry—be quick.”

Harry

It’s great to meet you properly at last,” said the fair-haired man, pumping Harry’s hand. “I’ve heard so much about you from Ana and Megan!”

Harry searched his memory for an ID—jacket sleeves rolled up (why didn’t he just take it off?), Australian surfer hair (no way were those streaks natural).

“Percy North, BWG,” prompted Surfer Boy.

Ah, that would be why Harry’s hackles were raised. This was Ana’s fiancé.

“Of course. Are you enjoying the party?”

“I most certainly am, Harry! The girls have done a great job, haven’t they?”

“Indeed. What’s your role at BWG?”

“Account director. I work on some really happening accounts.”

“Oh, you’re a bag carrier. What do you think of the Rack?”

“Haha! Yes, a bag carrier, for my sins. The Rack looks very cool, I’m sure we’ll be queuing up to book space. I can’t wait to read the Bowie article. Sounds like Terri Robbins-More is one mean interviewer.”

“The best there is.”

“Mean boss, too, though, apparently. Gives Ana a hard time.”

This conversation was going nowhere Harry was interested in.

“I’m sure Ana’s capable of looking after herself. And Terri is impressed with what the designers have been doing, even if she doesn’t constantly dish out the praise.”

“Megan’s done a great job this evening too,” said Percy. “You must be proud of your sister. She’s such a fun person to be around. I love hanging out at the girls’ flat. Though Ana and I will be moving in together as soon as we find a place.”

What was a woman like Ana doing with this sycophantic bore?

Looking over Percy’s shoulder, Harry saw Merry heading toward them. She looked pretty tonight, but there was perhaps too much of the blond bombshell going on. Other women were giving her the side-eye, while men were openly ogling her.

“Hello, boys!” she said.

Of course, she would know Ana’s fiancé.

“Harry, this is—” began Percy.

“He knows who I am, silly. I’m his chosen provider of wine and . . . other things.” She winked at Harry.

What the heck?

She touched Harry’s arm. “Champagne too. Have you tried it?”

“The response has been good, you’ll be glad to hear.”

“Lordy, these shoes are killing me,” said Merry, and she clung to Harry’s arm as she lifted a foot and wiggled it around.

Ana appeared at Percy’s side. “Has anyone seen Megan?” She did a double take at Merry, still clinging to Harry’s arm. “She’s wanted by the caterers.” She frowned slightly at her sister.

“I was just saying what a great job Megan’s done tonight,” said Percy.

“I think I saw her with your friend,” Merry said to Harry. “The guy with glasses.”

“Charles?” said Harry sharply.

“Here she is,” said Ana. “Thank goodness. I couldn’t have covered for her for much longer. Oh, I guess the rain’s finally here.”

Harry followed Ana’s gaze and saw Megan hurrying toward them, her shoes in one hand, her hair wet and sticking to her face. Her expression was panicked. His heart sank. Had something happened between her and Charles?

“Megan? What on earth?” He shook off Merry’s arm impatiently.

“Harry, come quick,” Megan panted. “Ana, I need you to phone for an ambulance. Katie’s gone into labor.”

“Oh, how exciting!” said Percy.

A wave of panic hit Harry. She was only seven months along. He knew nothing about survival rates, but this couldn’t be good.

“Where?” said Harry.

“Follow me.”

Outside, through the pouring rain, Harry saw Katie, supported by Charles on one side and Cassandra on the other.

“An ambulance is coming,” he called.

They stopped walking, as Katie was clearly having a contraction.

“Katie!” Harry said, reaching her.

She let go of Charles’s arm and grabbed his own as she doubled over with a moan. Her wet dress clung to her stomach and legs.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Cassandra said, and he saw tears mingling with the raindrops running down her face. “I’m so—”

“Shut the fuck up, Cassandra,” growled Charles. “It’s not about you.”

“Cass,” gasped Katie, straightening up a little. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“The fuck it wasn’t,” said Charles. “If you hadn’t—”

“Stop it, you two. Save it for later,” said Harry.

The rain intensified, the drops slicing like shards of glass across the beams of the palace floodlights. There was a flash of lightning, and thunder crashed overhead. Harry had a momentary fancy that it was a reprimand from the big man upstairs, for not checking on his wife. What had happened to Katie while he was schmoozing VIPs and obsessing over Ana?

As thunder reverberated around the palace, Ana and Merry appeared, hurrying toward them under two big black umbrellas. Merry’s white dress and platinum-blond hair stood out in the gloom.

Ana sheltered Katie as she began to move again, dragging heavily on Harry’s arm. Merry held the other umbrella over Harry, but he waved her away.

“Is she . . .” said Ana.

“The baby’s coming,” Harry said grimly.

“Megan’s waiting for the ambulance at the drop-off point.”

“Harry,” whispered Katie. He bent down to listen. “It’s too soon. Why is God doing this to us?”

“They can do wonders,” he said. “Tinier babies than ours survive. You and the baby are going to be just fine.” But his voice caught, and as Megan and the paramedics appeared on the path, and Katie clung to his hand, a terrible certainty filled his heart.