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  It had taken a few moments for the facts to sort themselves out in Maggie’s head, and when they finally fell into place she felt foolish – incredibly stupid, even. Why couldn’t she have kept her big mouth shut?

  She threw back the contents of her glass and searched for the waiter to bring her another. She hadn’t eaten all day, and was having increasing difficulty balancing on both finely crafted stilettos, which suddenly seemed to have a will of their own, each choosing to go in different directions.

  She’d made wrong assumptions about a man she was only just getting to know. Not only that, she had practically accused him of unethical behaviour, based on no evidence whatsoever.

  Oh God, what had she done? She felt sick to her stomach.

  Estelle saw her struggling, and eased her into a nearby chair before asking the waiter to bring some water.

  Ben Goodman came over to offer his help, realising something wasn’t right. This was the last straw for Maggie. How could he be so nice to her after her rudeness to him earlier?

  “I’m fine,” she said quietly, wishing Estelle would stop fussing and Ben would go away. “Altitude sickness from the shoes Kate lent me. Enjoy the party and let me sit here quietly for a few minutes. I’m fine.”

  Then, “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m sorry I said those things to you about Lucy and the house. I was wrong and I’m sorry. I was so wrong and I’m so sorry.”

  Ben looked surprised at this turn in the conversation, but shrugged his shoulders. “It’s OK, Maggie. One apology is enough, I assure you. We all make mistakes. After all, I shouldn’t have …” But he stopped.

  “Shouldn’t have what?” asked Maggie, wanting him to continue, but the noise of the party had suddenly dropped, and heads were turning towards the door. Maggie pushed herself to standing, trying to see what was happening.

  Nick was standing at the entrance with a tall dark man who Maggie thought she recognised. Estelle’s guests made way for the two men, parting and then re-grouping to whisper as the pair walked determinedly towards the kitchen.

  “Isn’t that Eric Mansfield?”

  “I think so. But what’s he doing here?”

  Estelle could barely contain her excitement, no doubt thrilled that one of the world’s most famous celebrity TV chefs was walking through the guests at HER party. Eric Mansfield owned restaurants in New York and London, had made countless television shows and sold millions of recipe books. His face was synonymous with the best of modern cuisine, and he was here, live, in Queenstown, at Estelle’s party. She dug around inside her handbag, looking for her phone.

  “You must be Elka,” they heard the man say as he reached the kitchen. “You’re a good cook. You taught Kate well.”

  The guests made futile attempts to pretend they weren’t listening. Even the waiters had stopped pouring drinks.

  “You’re correct. I am Elka and you must be Eric. Kate has told me all about you. I’ve heard you can cook too.”

  Maggie’s ears pricked up. Kate had told Elka about Eric. She’d said nothing to her. I’m her mother, she thought, and stepped forward, still wobbly on her high heels. Eric was the man she’d spoken to on the phone. She took another step towards the kitchen, unaware that Estelle was behind her, moving closer to take a photo.

  Unaccustomed to the combined effects of stilettos and too many glasses of wine, Maggie staggered, caught a heel in the thick carpet, and pitched headfirst into Ben’s outstretched arms.

  Ben took his time making sure Maggie was capable of standing upright, before only partially releasing her.

  “Kate. Come out here. Please,” said Eric, loudly enough for everyone to hear and for them to finally stop all pretence of minding their own business. They turned their attention to Kate, who was standing behind the serving hatch.

  Kate turned slowly to look at him. She took off her cook’s apron, smoothed down her jacket and walked into the restaurant. The room fell silent. Even Estelle, who’d dropped her phone when Maggie had fallen, stopped muttering.

  “Kate, you’re pregnant,” said Eric and Maggie in shocked unison, breaking the spell.

  And Kate, standing before them in her chef’s clothes, her baby bump obvious to all, nodded defiantly whilst staring straight into Eric’s eyes.

  A man coughed. There was a flurry of thank-yous and people looking for their coats. Car keys rattled in pockets and the door opened and shut behind departing guests. Waiters started clearing away glasses and picking up discarded food and serviettes.

  Estelle could not have been more delighted. No one would ever forget this party.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  “Elka, why didn’t she tell me? Why couldn’t she talk tome about what happened in London?” Maggie burst into a flood of fresh tears, reaching past Elka for another tissue before loudly blowing her nose.

  “Ben, is that tea ready?” called Elka, looking at the pile of soggy tissues on her otherwise pristine glass coffee table.

  “Coming.”

  “Kate was going to tell you soon – very soon. She wanted time to make her own decisions and to think about her choices without your advice. Maggie, you know she loves you. I blame the champagne for this. Right, Ben?” she asked, looking meaningfully at him as he put down a tray of mugs on the table.

  “Definitely the champagne,” he said slurring his words for effect. “I always blame the champagne, especially that French muck your restaurant serves, Elka. Makes people pregnant without their mothers finding out.”

  “Very funny,” said both women, helping themselves to tea, Elka looking askance at the carton of milk Ben had plonked on the tray.

  “I think you have to accept Kate is all grown up, and wants to take responsibility for her own decisions,” said Ben, sitting down opposite her.

  Maggie looked up sharply. “So you knew too. Everyone in Queenstown but me knew my only daughter was pregnant.” Another wail broke the silence.

  “Maggie, stop it!” ordered Elka. “You’re feeling sorry for yourself. This is not about you. This is about Kate and what she wants. Stop the weeping and wailing, get a good night’s sleep and talk to her when she’s ready. Not you. Your daughter is a hard worker and very talented. She knows what she’s doing. Trust her or you will drive her away.”

  It was the second time that evening Elka had been brutally honest with Maggie; the second time Maggie felt as if she’d been slapped by her best friend. The alcohol was wearing off, and little hammers were starting to bang behind her eyes. Now was not the time to say anything. She needed sleep. She needed aspirin and she needed to talk to Kate. How dare she keep this from me?

  Ben stood up. “Come on, Maggie, I’ll drop you home. Nick took your car when he saw your fall from grace, which you’ll be relieved to know wasn’t seen by everyone. A word of warning – don’t party with Estelle, she is way more used to the demon drink than you. That way disaster lies, especially in red Jimmy Choos! And Maggie, It’s time you accepted you can’t control the world and everyone in it.”

  Another slap. Why now? she thought. Why do they feel so free to tell me what’s wrong with me tonight?

  She got up, picked up her shoes and padded meekly down the hall to the front door. She knew that if she turned around she’d see Elka and Ben sharing a look; a look she wasn’t ready to see.

  Outside The Stables, Ben got out of the car and opened the door for her. On the doorstep he said, “I don’t think I could do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Be a parent. Watching everything friends and patients go through for their children, it seems awfully hard.”

  Maggie looked up at him, grateful it was dark and he couldn’t see her bleary eyes. “Thank you,” she said wearily, trying to ignore the hammering in her head. “And I’m sorry I was rude to you again. You have been very kind when you didn’t have to be.” She hesitated. “I would like to be friends, if that’s all right with you?”

  “If that’s all you want, and think it’s best, then I suppose I have to
accept your offer. Let’s just be friends.” He bent down and gave her a friendly peck on her forehead before leaving.

  Maggie let herself into the house and tiptoed upstairs. Kate was fast asleep when she peeped into her room, and Nick was snoring away.

  As she switched off her bedside lamp, Maggie replayed the doorstep conversation in her mind. Maybe he thought I was going to invite him in? He did lock his car. She remembered the beep and the lights flashing in the dark.

  You ’ re drunk , Maggie. Of course he didn ’ t. As if you ’d ever make that mistake again.

  She sighed. It was good to know they could be friends – normal friends, as she was with Elka. Lying there with her head spinning unpleasantly and feeling very sick, she was suddenly sure friendship with Ben was the best option – the only option. Anything else had caused embarrassment to them both. After all, she’d survived this long without love, “whatever love might be,” as Prince Charles had famously said on his engagement. Did she even know what it was? And love wasn’t the be all and end all, was it? Life is bigger than love, she thought. Well, that sort of love, anyway. And yet it wasn’t friendship she dreamed about later that night when she finally drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  “I don’t understand you, Kate. And I don’t understand this silly behaviour of yours, ignoring my calls, my emails, making me come twelve thousand miles to make sense of your behaviour. It’s peak season and yet here I am. I think you owe me an explanation, don’t you? Why did you leave without a word?”

  The kitchen staff had made a hasty exit when it became obvious Eric and Kate needed privacy. The pair were standing in the half light of the cleaned and empty kitchen, surfaces gleaming and everything put away.

  “I did tell you, Eric. I told you over and over again. I couldn’t stay because my visa had run out. You were the only person who could have changed that. And I didn’t stay because you’re married! I love you but I can’t have you. Simple! It’s better for me to be with people who return my love twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, year in and year out, not with someone who can sneak away for an hour once or twice a week. I deserve better. So does our child. Stay with your wife – it’s the right thing to do. But you have to leave me alone. I can look after myself, but I can’t do it in London.”

  “Kate, I understand you had to go, and I do remember you saying something – I think. But sneaking away without saying goodbye, without a saying anything, after all we had. And a baby. My baby.”

  “Keep your voice down, Eric. This isn’t your kitchen, this is my kitchen. This is where I work, and I don’t want you shouting my business to every person within cooee.”

  Kate was angrier than she’d ever been in her life. The feelings she’d been bottling up since her return erupted. “How dare you come here and tell me it’s your baby. You gave away any rights to me, my life and my body when you made it perfectly clear you would never leave Sandra, your business partner,” she said, lacing the last two words with heavy sarcasm.

  “And Toby,” said Eric, with equal sarcasm. “Don’t forget my twelve-year-old son and my duty to him. Of course I can’t leave my family and everything I’ve worked so hard for, Kate. You said you understood.”

  “I do understand. It’s only a pity you didn’t tell me about Toby before we slept together the first time, or the second or the third. It took a while for you to be honest with me, and when you were, I took it. I sucked it up. I walked. Now you goddamned do the same. Get the hell out of my restaurant and my life. I don’t need you and I don’t want you. Coming here was the worst thing you could have done to your family and to me. Goodness knows where you keep your brains.”

  There was a discreet cough, and Kate turned to see Nick in the doorway.

  “How long have you been there?” she asked.

  “Long enough,” said Nick quietly. He took a step towards Eric. “My sister would prefer that you left. And to make things easy for you, I have your bags in my car. I’m happy to drive you to a hotel. It would be better for everyone if you gave Kate, and us, her family, some space before you leave for good.”

  Eric reluctantly relented. He bid Kate a formal and insincere goodnight and walked past them both. Nick followed, telling Kate he’d be back in a few minutes to take her home.

  Chapter Forty

  Maggie woke the next morning with a piercing pain behind her eyes and a foul dry taste in her mouth. Lifting her head off the pillow, she immediately wished she hadn’t, as a wave of abject discomfort surged all the way from her stomach to a spot inside her poor tortured brain, where it hammered on her skull trying desperately to get out.

  There was a timid knock at her door and Kate walked in, bearing a tray with a large glass of sparkling iced water, a strip of paracetamol tablets, a huge plate of eggs, bacon and baked beans cooked just the way Maggie liked them, a pot of strong tea and two mugs.

  “Sit up, Mum. I’ve brought you Kate Potter’s famous hangover cure and an apology.”

  Maggie opened one eye. The light was severe so she closed it again. The smell of Kate’s breakfast was both tempting and sick making.

  Kate popped two tablets out of the foil and put them in her mother’s hand. Maggie had no option but to sit up and take them.

  “Now we can talk,” said Kate.

  “They take a few minutes to work, don’t they?” asked Maggie pathetically. “I am never going to drink again in my whole life. God, I feel awful.”

  Kate walked over to the window, flung the curtains back with unnecessary gusto, and opened the window, inviting in the fresh air and sunshine of spring. Maggie flinched as the sunlight precision-lasered its way into the spot behind her eyes, a sensation rather like ice picks flung with force into jelly.

  Kate seemed completely oblivious to her mother’s distress.

  “It’s not that I didn’t mean to tell you, but I was feeling really grotty when I came home. I could only sleep and vomit, usually at the same time. I had no idea what was wrong with me until I saw Ben, then I needed time to think. I was about to tell you when you hijacked me to look after the restaurant. I was working long hours, we were never home at the same time and there was no opportunity to sit down and explain.”

  She hurried on. “I couldn’t leave a note saying, by the way I’m pregnant, the father lives in London and is married to someone else.”

  Kate poured the tea and handed a mug to Maggie. “Actually, a note might have been better than the scene in the restaurant last night. That should keep the gossips occupied for a few days.”

  Maggie sipped her tea. “It’s not just the Queenstown gossips who’ll be riveted,” she said. “Eric is one of the best-known celebrity chefs in the world. It wouldn’t surprise me if there weren’t photos, or – oh my god – a clip of last night’s performance already on the internet.”

  Kate put the tray down on the bed and took her phone out of her pocket. She tapped the screen and gasped. “It’s in the Telegraph! It’s all over the Daily Mail and Stuff – it’s the lead article, Mum. Look!” she wailed. They sat in stunned silence, neither wanting to say out loud what they suspected would happen next.

  Maggie was just reaching across to feel Kate’s tummy when the phone beside her bed rang, followed by her cell phone. Kate’s cell phone also rang, and downstairs someone was knocking insistently on the front door. Below the open bedroom window, someone was calling Kate’s name and asking her to come out.

  Maggie and Kate shut off the phones one by one, and Maggie got up to close the curtains and window. Thank goodness the paracetamol were kicking in and she could walk with both eyes open at the same time.

  “I have to get to work, Mum,” pleaded Kate. “Elka can’t do it, she isn’t well enough yet. What am I going to do?”

  Maggie took a deep breath. “If you truly have to go to work, then I will get you to work. Get dressed and I’ll drive you. You’re going to have to duck down in the back seat. Once you’re there you should be safe. I’m sure Brian and t
he others will keep the press at bay. Be happy their expense accounts don’t run to the price of your meals.”

  “I didn’t mean the photographers, Mum,” said Kate tearfully. “I meant, I’m pregnant. I’m due in a few months. I have no home, no money, no partner – what am I going to do?”

  “You’re going to have a baby, Kate. Women do it all the time. We’ll cope, just as we always have. And this is your home. Together we’ve got more than enough money, and you may not have a partner but you have us. It’s so exciting. Has it moved yet? Please tell me you don’t know the sex. The surprise is half the fun. It’s going to be more than fine, Kate. It’s going to be great.”

  Maggie saw the look of fear on Kate’s face. “Please don’t worry. We’ll look after you and the baby until you’re ready to stand on your own two feet again. Now, as Betty would say, shoulders back and walk tall.”

  Maggie pulled on pants and a jersey. “Go and get changed and we’ll work out how to get you past the people downstairs. Honestly, the press must think Queenstown is the mother lode, the goose that lays the golden egg of gossip. First Tim James and now Eric Mansfield. Such a pity Betty isn’t here – she would have loved all this fuss. She’d have been in her element.”

  “And Eric? What should I do about him?” asked Kate, keen to delay facing the world and the judgement waiting for her on the front step.

  Maggie paused on her way to the bathroom. “He’s a busy man who’s dropped everything, including his wife and son, and flown halfway round the world to see you – before he knew you were pregnant. He must have feelings for you, Kate. You can’t just turn your back on him and expect him to walk away. You need to talk to him properly. Imagine how his poor wife is feeling. The papers in the UK will have rammed this news down her throat by now and she’s having to face it alone, knowing he’s here with you. It’s a bit late, but you need to consider her feelings.”