Plan B by Emily Barr Read Free Book Online Page A

customary pep talk.
    He inhaled slowly, and marched up the steps, pushed a hand through his wet hair, and put his key in the door marked 24A.
    ‘Hello?’ he called. ‘Anyone here? I’m back!’
    Oliver’s footsteps thundered towards him from the direction of the kitchen.
    ‘Daddy!’ shouted the boy, and he ran headlong into Hugh’s arms. Hugh caught him, kissed his creamy cheek, and tousled his blond hair. He was glad, once again, that Alice looked like her mother. Oliver was the image of himself. Hugh derived some perverse sense of security from the fact that his children did not look like brother and sister.
    ‘Olly!’ he said. ‘What have you been up to?’
    The boy ignored the question. ‘You got a present?’ he demanded.
    Hugh looked at his wife, who had followed their son out of the kitchen, and raised his eyebrows. ‘Nice to see you, too, Ol,’ he said. ‘Surely he’s too young to be Thatcher’s child? Shouldn’t he be pleased to see me for my own sake?’
    ‘It’s got nothing to do with Thatcher,’ Jo told him crisply, pushing her blonde hair back from her face. ‘It’s your own fault. You always bring a present. You made him associate you coming home with him making some material gain. You instilled the covetousness.’ Jo, Hugh reflected, did do confrontation. He liked the fact that she took no crap from him. He also liked the fact that Emma always wanted to make everything smooth and, as she constantly said, magical. He loved them both, although they were so different, and felt comfortable with them both, and they both made him happy. And he was weak and could barely believe his luck. That was the trouble.
    ‘True,’ he told Jo, dumping his things and rummaging through a tax-free plastic bag. It didn’t mention Bordeaux on it. He had checked very carefully.
    ‘And as it happens I do have a little something for each of you,’ he told them. ‘But can’t a man take his coat off and get a drink when he comes back from supporting his family, before he has to start handing out the knick-knacks?’
    Jo patted his cheek. She was looking beautiful in jeans and a crisp white shirt. He knew she didn’t do it for his benefit. ‘Don’t play the martyr. Don’t pretend you don’t love the travelling. Spending half the week lounging in Novotels on expenses. Watching the porn channels and eating lukewarm chips from room service.’ She kissed him on the lips and he returned her kiss, placing a hand on her waist and pulling her tall, slender body close to his.
    Hugh muttered into her ear, ‘You haven’t mentioned that I don’t particularly support the family yet.’
    ‘You partly support the family,’ Jo told him, generously, as she pulled away from him. She was a confident woman with short, sharply styled blonde hair. Jo worked full time, running a successful art gallery. She made more than enough money to keep the three of them comfortably. Hugh had been in infatuated awe of Jo from the moment they met, and he still was. He thought she was far out of his league.
    Jo was slightly disconcerted by the fact that she did not mind Hugh’s regular absences at all. He was away for at least half of every week, and although she would never have told him, she enjoyed not having to worry about another adult. She and Olly had their routine down to a fine art. The nanny would arrive at eight, Jo left for work at ten past, and arrived at the gallery between nine and nine fifteen. This gave her enough time to catch up on urgent paperwork before her two employees arrived at nine forty-five and the gallery opened at ten.
    When Hugh was around, she found him in the shower at her allocated time, and ended up drying her hair after Jenny had arrived. Then her whole day was out of sync. She did miss him at weekends, but even then, she and Olly enjoyed the intimacy of their lazy mornings. They ate their toast together, cuddled on the sofa, watching Dick and Dom. It was cosy and it still felt slightly naughty.
    Jo