Page 96 of Untether

‘Why are they standing out there?’ he asks as I feed his blazer up his arms and pull it over his skinny shoulders. This kid is a beanpole. ‘It’s rude.’

‘Because they all want an exclusive with Mummy,’ Kit says breezily from his squatting position as he ties his shoelaces. My youngest loves drama as much as he loves an audience, but the media’s pursuit of our family during John’s women’s “exclusives” was hellish enough to leave all of us scarred.

‘We talked about this, remember?’ I tell Pip. ‘Kit’s right. I have a new TV show coming out, and people are interested in it, so the media has a lot of questions, and those reporters are always looking for an angle no one else has to make their coverage stand out.’

‘Just like you used to do in the field, right, Mummy?’ Kit asks, and I stifle a smile. This kid and his newsroom jargon.

‘Exactly. But I’d like to think I was more courteous than they are, and my stories were very different from the ones they want to report on. Even so, it’s easiest if you don’t take it personally. They’re not here to rile you. They’re here to do their job.Yourjob is to ignore them, and to go to school, and to get on with your day.’ I cup Pip’s little face in my hands and stroke my thumbs over his silken cheeks.

‘Will they be here when we get home from school?’ he wants to know.

‘Hopefully not, sweetie.’ I sigh as I turn to the huge mirror in the hallway for one final check. I don’t want anygaunt and drawnheadlines today. Neither do I want too many people speculating that I’m way too old and haggard to be hooking up with a guy like Cal.

Hopefully, the amount of makeup I’ve slathered on this morning will do the trick. My lips are perfectly scarlet, and I’m wrapped up in my most gorgeous cream double-faced cashmere coat. I also spent too much time giving myself the perfect blowout this morning.

While I’m used to being judged on my face and body when I’m trying to do a job, this is the first time—my ex-husband’s public philandering aside—that I’ve been judged as a sexual being in my own right. I grab my oversized sunglasses along with the boys’ schoolbags and football kit and all the other paraphernalia they need for their day.

‘I’m so sorry about this,’ I tell them as I stand with one hand on the door handle and the other holding Pip tightly. ‘I’m gonna get it sorted while you’re at school, okay? Remember what we’ve talked about before? Reporters are like…’

‘Puppies,’ Kit finishes enthusiastically. ‘If you give them a single scrap, they’ll keep coming back to the dinner table for more.’

I shoot him a genuine smile. ‘Right! So don’t engage. Kit, stay behind me. Let’s do this.’

And with that, I swing the door open and we step out into the sunlit crowd.

63

CAL

How’s it going over there? Press still hanging around?

The security guy’s arrived but it’s still a fucking circus

You OK?

I’m pissed. I can handle it but I hate this feeling of being hounded in my own home

How’s the coverage looking this morning? Saw The Times

Fucking Lorna Davison.

She’s a dried-up woman-hater. The WORST kind of woman. Ignoreher

I guess

IGNORE HER. Seriously. You want me to come over?

No. I’m just having a pity party. I’ll be fine, honestly

I’m coming over

I don’t want them getting a photo of you at my house. That would just add fuel to the flames

There are ways around that. See you in an hour

Ijump on the tube from Green Park so I can head home and grab my car. We’ve had a few reporters sneaking around Alchemy, but nothing like what Aida’s had to endure. Still, Gen had the foresight to put some of our evening doormen on a day shift, and our muscle quickly got rid of the journos. That’s why she’s the best COO ever.

It only takes fifteen minutes to get through the park from my place to Notting Hill. I park up on Aida’s road, and pay the parking charge on my phone before reaching over to the passenger seat and grabbing the balaclava I bought for the Masked Ball. I tug it on and check in the rearview mirror that it’s on straight before grabbing the man-bag I stuffed a few bits in.

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