‘That’s something,’ he muttered under his breath.
They’d managed to keep the tension turned down since they’d got back from Provence. It had only been one full day, and they had managed to avoid each other by taking it in turns to spend time with Tilly. Amy had gone to the Westfield Centre with her in the morning, losing hours in KidZania, whilst David had watched a film in the den with her when they had come home. But it was still there, the simmering discord that meant they couldn’t even look each other in the eye.
‘Tils, come and give me a big hug,’ Amy said.
‘I love you, Mummy.’ Tilly wrapped her arms around Amy’s waist.
‘I love you too,’ she said, stroking her daughter’s hair.
David reached for Tilly’s hand and looked back at Amy.
‘Safe travels,’ she said finally.
She didn’t follow them to the door. Instead she just listened to the sound of it closing and Tilly’s footsteps on the cold stone steps running away from the house. They were in the car with the engine running before she started to cry.
‘So how was your holiday?’ Tracey followed Amy as she walked through into her office sipping her bottle of breakfast smoothie.
‘Good, good,’ muttered Amy, clocking the teetering pile of post that had been deposited on her desk. She had never taken such a long break before, and she looked at her in-tray with dread.
‘Only good?’ laughed Tracey, watching Amy take off her coat.
‘It was great. And now I’m back.’ She didn’t even look at her deputy as she fired up her computer.
‘A little bird told me that Josie came with you,’ said Tracey, sitting down at the sofa.
‘Where did you hear that?’ asked Amy with more interest.
‘One of the PAs saw some pictures on Instagram and messaged her.’
Amy smiled thinly and made a mental note to check out Josie’s social media accounts.
‘Our nanny broke her ankle. Josie stepped into the breach.’
‘You should have asked me. I’m not your trusty deputy for nothing.’
‘That might not have been such a bad idea,’ Amy muttered, picking up a padded envelope, which sent the entire pile tumbling to the floor. ‘Bugger,’ she said, crouching to pick it up.
‘Let me,’ said Tracey. If she had noticed Amy’s hands shaking, she didn’t say anything.
Chrissie came through with a coffee and Amy asked her to close the door behind her.
‘So how’s everything been?’
‘The September issue sold like hot cakes. Did you get the sales figures I sent you?’
‘Yes, thank you. How’s everything going with the gala?’
Tracey sat forward on the sofa. ‘The train was a very good idea. We got fifty replies within the hour.’
‘What about the E-Squared dinner?’
‘Get this, I’ve just got off the phone with their UK communications director, who was terribly sorry for the diary clash and is going to lay on cars to transport guests from their dinner to the gala. And when I suggested their event be moved forward an hour, she said she’d see what she could do. If you give her a ring to press the point home, I bet she makes it happen.’
‘That’s fantastic,’ said Amy, feeling sparkier.
‘There are a few other glitches,’ said Tracey, looking more serious. ‘The champagne sponsor has pulled out. Something to do with a change of management and a review of corporate partnerships.’
‘They can’t do that with two weeks to go.’