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Louise grinned over her shoulder. ‘I know. But let him find out for himself that love can buy what money can’t. Give Ivan a goodbye kiss for me—and Hunter too, for that matter. He left for some meeting at a god-awful early hour and I wasn’t really compos mentis when we said our farewells…’
Anne’s second visitor of the morning was even more of a shock. She simply stared at her sister until Katlin brushed past her, looking eagerly around the flat.
‘Where is he?’
‘Who?’ For an awful moment Anne thought her family knew all about her plans to abandon herself to the ravages of a passionate affair and had sent Katlin to talk some sense into her. Then reality reasserted itself. No one in their right mind would send Katlin to advise common sense over impulse.
Katlin looked at her strangely, her smooth bell of blonde hair quivering as she shook her head. ‘Ivan, of course!’
‘Oh, Ivan…In the bedroom—I think he’s awake—’ She was talking to empty air. When Katlin emerged from the bedroom talking flat out to her son, who was regarding her with a humorous air of puzzled resignation, Anne had coffee ready, which Katlin waved away.
‘No, thanks, I’ve given up coffee. Makes me too jittery. I was drinking gallons of the stuff when the book wasn’t going well.’
The past tense sounded promising. ‘You mean it’s going well now?’
Katlin looked at her over her son’s head. Her smile was brilliant. She looked like the old, confident, exasperating Kat, supremely certain that the world revolved around her talent. ‘Fantastically!’
Then, to Anne’s bewilderment and Ivan’s dismay, Katlin burst into tears.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KATLIN’S outburst of tears was as brief as it was violent. As she mopped her eyes, and those of Ivan, who had begun to wail in sympathy, she gave her sister a watery grin.
‘Sorry. It’s just seeing Ivan again. I didn’t realise how much I’d miss him. I thought it’d be like…I could just tuck him out of sight, out of mind for a while, but in the end I couldn’t stand it so I borrowed the airfare off Don and just came. I mean, the writing’s going great but…you know, it was never Ivan that was the real problem, it was me and now I seem to have me all straightened out, well…I guess what I’m trying to say is I don’t want Ivan and me to be apart any longer.’
‘You mean…you want to move in here to write the rest of the book?’ Anne asked when she got over her shock, feeling mean and petty because she wasn’t wholeheartedly glad for her sister’s sake.
‘God, no!’ Katlin shuddered. ‘This city is so claustrophobic. And I’m sure it’s healthier for Ivan to grow up in a country environment. No, I want to take him back home with me. I’ve really got myself sorted out now, Anne, truly. It’s all a matter of self-discipline, of setting realistic goals and not constantly doubting myself. I know I’m not anyone’s notion of an ideal mother-even my own—but Ivan’s part of my life now…and I can’t let him grow up thinking that I didn’t want him.’
Kat’s brown eyes softened as she kissed Ivan’s downy cheek and she laughed as he blew a raspberry in response. ‘We’re going to be OK, aren’t we, kiddo? I can’t dance like Aunty Anne, but I can tell pretty good stories. If you like the ones I make up for you, maybe I could write them down and when you’re bigger you can draw some pictures for them. Would you like that? We could call them Ivan’s Stories. Maybe they could even get published one day!’
Ivan’s fat cheeks creased and Katlin rubbed her nose against his, making him gurgle. ‘Yes, they could… Maybe one day you’ll be as famous as Christopher Robin.’ She suddenly wrinkled her nose and sniffed. ‘Or perhaps Pooh would be more appropriate—you need changing, my lad!’
Ivan’s black eyes went wide as his mother whirled him around, laughing at her feeble pun. Anne didn’t blame Ivan for being fascinated with this softer, more relaxed Katlin. More practical, too, as she asked where the nappies were kept and quickly completed the task, laughing at her own clumsiness and promising Ivan that she would improve with practice.
‘So, what are you going to do about this place?’ Anne asked shakily, trying not to sound as devastated as she felt.
‘What?’ Katlin blinked as she noticed her sister’s pale face. ‘Oh, Anne, you idiot, you’re such a worrier!’ Ivan was squeezed in between them as Katlin gave her a fierce hug. ‘Of course I’m not going to chuck you out of here. After what you did for me? For heaven’s sake, what do you think I am?’
At her sister’s rueful face she laughed. ‘No, don’t answer that—I know I’ve been bloody selfish! But nothing’s going to change for you, I promise, except you’ll have to get by on a little less because I’ll need more money for Ivan and me. In your letters you said you were earning a bit of money on the side, so you’ll be OK, won’t you?’
It was so unusual to have Katlin worrying about her that Anne smiled, mentally waving goodbye to the small savings account she had established for next year’s fees.
‘I can manage without any allowance at all if I don’t have Ivan to work around,’ she said firmly. ‘I can get a proper part-time job. But don’t you think it would be better just
to come totally clean with the foundation?’
Katlin looked horrified. She hadn’t changed that much. ‘Oh, God, no, let’s not rock the boat now, not while I’ve got this marvellous momentum going. I’ll ‘fess up later when it’s all over, and don’t worry, I promise I’ll take all the blame. If they want the grant back…well, they can have my royalties. I don’t care. At least I’ll be published. Did I tell you that the publisher loved the partial?’
‘No, that’s terrific! It must be going well,’ Anne murmured, reassured by the knowledge that it wasn’t Katlin’s ego alone talking.
‘I told you it is!’ Katlin brushed her favourite subject aside with startling impatience. ‘But, talking of rocking boats, I’m not here just to pick up Ivan…I wonder if you could do one more little favour for me? Well, no, a really big, big favour, actually. But nothing dishonest or anything this time, I promise, just a bit awkward—but only for me…’ she added hurriedly as she saw Anne’s face tighten with apprehension.
She might have known that nothing Katlin asked for would be quite that simple…
‘Look, really, Officer, I’m waiting here for a friend. I expect he’ll be along any minute!’
To be mistaken for a prostitute by the police for the second time in the space of twenty-four hours was a bit much, thought Anne several hours later as she grimly hung on to her sense of humour.
