Having It All by Maeve Haran Read Free Book Online

three-thirty,
Today
at five. Then ITN
want to catch a quick word with you for the news.’ The girl looked at her pad, sounding puzzled. ‘Oh, and Steffi Wilson from the
Daily World’s
after you too.’ She
smiled encouragingly at Liz. ‘I didn’t think it was her territory but with four million readers, she’s not the kind of person you turn down. Do you know Steffi?’
    ‘Only by reputation. The Acid Queen, don’t they call her?’
    ‘They do indeed. Out to make her name as the new Julie Burchill and doesn’t mind leaving a few corpses on the way. Anyway she’s asked to meet up tomorrow evening, at your home,
for more colour. Maybe I should be with you for that one?’
    ‘Don’t worry,’ Liz sounded a lot more chirpy than she felt, ‘I’m a big girl now.’
    ‘I hope so.’ Cindy’s tone was unnervingly worried. ‘You’ll certainly need to be.’ And as she handed Liz the list of interviews she wondered if Liz had seen
the story in that week’s
Press Gazette
about how the
Daily World
was nudging the
News
out of its niche as top tabloid.
    Steffi glanced in her rear-view mirror as she parked outside Jamie’s nursery school. It had been easy to work out which of the handful of small, private schools two
thrusting media professionals would send their kid to. Then all she had to do was ring and check if he was a pupil. Now she just needed to mingle as though she were picking up a kid. The trouble
was she didn’t look like a nanny or a mum. A croupier maybe or possibly a high-class madam. She’d just have to pretend to be some brat’s wicked auntie. She’d enjoy that.
    Good, there were one or two mothers waiting there already and one of them looked like a prime target for spilling the beans. Big and badly dressed, she was clearly a professional mum who
believed that the first twenty-one years of a child’s life should be spent in the exclusive charge of its mother. No doubt she’d taught her children to read, write and play Mozart piano
sonatas by the time they were eighteen months. And if Steffi knew her sources she was just the person to blow the whistle on a working mother.
    She watched the woman lean over to a friend and whisper in her ear, glancing surreptitiously round before she did. That’s my bitch, thought Steffi, a world-class curtain-twitcher if ever I
saw one.
    Thank God at a school this size the mothers would know all the dirt about each other. Smiling sweetly Steffi introduced herself as Sophie’s aunt. There was bound to be a Sophie amongst
this lot for Christ’s sake, toffee-nosed little brats.
    Steffi leaned on the school fence. ‘Did you see Jamie’s mummy in the papers today? She’s in charge of that new TV company. That must be hard work. A job like that and two
kids.’
    The curtain-twitcher, who had given up a stagnant career in advertising to look after India-Jane herself, visibly bristled. ‘Those poor children! She never sees them you know. If she drops
them off she can’t wait to get back into that ridiculous car. And has she ever been seen at a school event? Never. Well, hardly ever, anyway.’ She paused for effect and moved so close
that Steffi felt like stepping backwards to get away from the aroma of Nappysacks and puke. ‘She missed the Medieval Evening, the Family Quiz Night
and
the Welly Boot Throwing
Contest in aid of the Under-Fives Library Fund. I know. I organized them.’
    ‘How frightful.’ Steffi tried to sound suitably appalled.
    ‘Why she bothered having them, God knows. But Susie, their nanny, is wonderful. She’s been a tower of strength. Though even she can’t stand it any longer.’ She lowered
her voice dramatically and leaned closer to Steffi. ‘She’s thinking of leaving you know. She can’t take any more.’
    Susie pushed Daisy’s buggy down the street as fast as she could and swore under her breath. She was going to be late to pick Jamie up from school.
    By the time she got there nearly all the children had gone. Oh