The Foster Husband by Pippa Wright Read Free Book Online

ahead.
    ‘Yes, really. For some unfathomable reason, he actually wants to meet you,’ says Prue.
    ‘He’s coming all the way from Bristol?’
    ‘Yes, from Bristol, where else would he be coming from?’
    ‘Don’t get chippy, Prue, it just seems like a long way to come for supper. Is he staying over?’
    Granny Gilbert’s phone is connected to the wall by a long curly wire. I stretch it to its fullest as I hold the kettle under the running tap while Prue continues to talk.
    ‘Certainly not!’ says Prue, adding proudly, ‘He’s staying at the Alexandra; I got him a room for half price because of his connection to Baileys’.’
    The way Prue speaks of my family’s business is as if it’s some great colossus of commerce, instead of the three of them letting holiday cottages and running tourist events in a
sleepy Dorset backwater. Prue’s always had bold schemes for Baileys’, despite Mum and Dad’s lack of interest in becoming bigger, and has signed herself up to all sorts of mental
local business organizations to further her ambitions. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was at some Young Entrepreneurs South West event that she first met Ben.
    ‘Nice,’ I say, flicking the kettle on. The Alexandra is the poshest hotel in town, and Prue knows I know it.
    ‘
They
appreciate which way the wind’s blowing,’ says Prue.
    ‘Er, what?’
    ‘Now that Ben’s getting involved in Baileys’,’ she says. ‘They know we’re going to be sending a lot of business their way. They’ll want to keep us
sweet, I can tell you.’
    ‘Right,’ I say. Prue’s plans for domination of the Lyme Bay area could not be of less interest to me. ‘Why couldn’t he stay with you?’
    I hear Prue inhale sharply before she answers. ‘You know how I feel about that sort of thing,’ she says primly.
    ‘Well excuse me for suggesting that your
boyfriend
might possibly stay the night. It’s not completely outside the realms of possibility.’
    ‘Not everyone, Kate, has your London ways,’ she snaps back, sounding seventy-five instead of twenty-five. ‘I’ll see you at seven.’
    And then she hangs up.
    Once, just once, I would like to have a conversation with Prue that doesn’t end like this.

6
    Lagos, Nigeria
    ‘Here she is.’
    ‘Someone get Kate a drink, would you?’
    ‘Why don’t you do it, Danny, you plonker?’
    ‘Jay, it’s a free bar, anyone can go up. You don’t get extra chivalry points for it.’
    If you want to know how to spot a group of cameramen at fifty paces, though I can’t imagine why you would unless it was to avoid them, allow me to tell you what to look for. Firstly, they
will be dressed identically, although they would be very offended to hear anyone say so. Being freelancers, they consider themselves individuals, mavericks even, but when you see them en masse
their protests of individuality are like listening to a flock of flamingos affecting outrage that you can’t tell them apart: ‘But I’m a totally different
kind
of pink,
and my legs are
miles
longer than his – and what? You think just everyone has a beak like
this
?’ When it comes to the plumage of a cameraman, think dark T-shirt,
combat shorts, usually camouflage (with plenty of zips for kit) and trainers.
    And, in the case of this lot, they will stick together at all times, sharing laddish banter and in-jokes while trying to cop off with girls from the Production team. And, I can’t deny it,
frequently succeeding. Sarah had had a dalliance with at least two of these cameramen in the recent past and, in the interests of full disclosure, I will admit to a night spent with Chris after an
event in Ibiza in the summer. But, frankly, you show me the Production girl who hasn’t slept with a cameraman at one point in her career and I will show you a massive liar. It’s
practically part of the job description.
    ‘It’s okay,’ I said, pushing my way past them towards the bar. The room was heaving now that the show was over, and