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I think I spied some pancakes and bacon so I’ll just eat them all myself.’

      ‘Ooh I want pancakes,’ said Ellie. Charlie scowled at his sister with a look that said, ‘Traitor’.

      Satisfied that she had one of them onside, Cat made her way to the kitchen. Ellie followed her, spouting a stream of questions. ‘Can I have maple syrup with mine, is there any juice, where are we going today, can I have a biscuit while I’m waiting, will it take long to get there, will there be toilets at the place we’re going to?’

      Cat was used to needy clients but not needy six-year-olds and felt her brain start to fizz at this verbal onslaught. She flicked on the kettle, deciding that coffee would definitely help before turning to her niece. ‘Yes, don’t know, up to London, yes, not long and yes.’

      Ellie seemed appeased and reached for the biscuit tin. Cat retrieved the bacon and pancakes and set about making breakfast. She felt disproportionately proud as she found the maple syrup and successfully prepared their breakfast without cremating it.

      ‘It’s ready,’ she called.

      ‘Ooh goody!’ cried Ellie, hopping into the dining room.

      Charlie didn’t appear so Cat went into the lounge. He was still glued to his game. ‘Are you sure you don’t want anything? We’re going out so you should probably eat something.’

      He scowled up at her. ‘I don’t want any breakfast and I don’t want to go out. Just leave me alone.’

      Cat wasn’t used to being talked to like this and she also wasn’t used to people not doing as they were asked. ‘You need to have some breakfast and then we are going out,’ she said firmly.

      They glared at one another for what felt like an age; Cat could see his defiance mirrored in her own. It’s a test, she thought, and I cannot lose. Not on day one. Charlie studied her expression as if trying to read her mind. She saw a hint of recognition flicker across his face – a realisation that he’d picked the wrong battle. It might have been this or a growling hunger that made him throw his iPad to one side and sigh, ‘Fine.’

      Cat almost felt like doing a small victory dance as he joined her and Ellie for breakfast. A point to me, she thought. I can do this.

      Ellie was tucking into a pancake, two rashers of bacon and a lake of maple syrup. ‘It’s mop as mice as Mummy’s,’ she said through a mouthful of food.

      ‘I wouldn’t expect it to be,’ said Cat taking a sip of coffee. ‘Now, would you like to know where we’re going today?’

      ‘Not really,’ muttered Charlie.

      ‘Is it Disneyland?’ asked Ellie hopefully.

      ‘No,’ replied Cat, deciding to ignore Charlie and plough on regardless. ‘We’re going on the London Eye.’

      ‘We’ve already done that with Mum and Dad,’ said Charlie smugly.

      Cat had the trump card. ‘Yes but I’ve booked us a VIP capsule.’

      ‘What’s VIP?’ asked Ellie.

      ‘Very important person,’ said Charlie with authority. ‘It’s for posh people.’ Cat was good enough at reading humans to glean that he was secretly impressed.

      ‘Oh. Are we posh then?’ asked Ellie.

      ‘We can be for today if you like. And then if you’re good, I thought we could go to one of my very favourite restaurants.’

      ‘I like restaurants. Can I wear my party dress?’ asked Ellie, helping herself to another pancake and pooling more maple syrup on top.

      ‘If you want to,’ said Cat feeling pleased. Charlie said nothing and Cat took this as a positive sign. She sat back in her chair and reached for her phone. She had just enough time to flick through the day’s news before they needed to leave for the station.

      ‘We’re not allowed phones or iPads at the table,’ said Charlie, jutting out his chin in defiance.

      ‘Daddy says that mealtimes are family times,’ reported Ellie with a frown.

      ‘Sorry,’ said Cat feeling a little indignant. ‘I just need to check in for work.’

      ‘I thought you weren’t working at the moment,’ said Charlie, narrowing his eyes at her. Another challenge.

      ‘No, but I still need to keep up with what’s going on. It’s a very important part of my job,’ retorted Cat, irritated that she was allowing her ten-year-old nephew to rile her.

      ‘But you haven’t got a job,’ said Ellie, looking confused.

      Thanks for reminding me, thought Cat.

      ‘Come on, Ells. Let’s get dressed,’ said Charlie, nudging his sister. He gave his aunt a superior glance as they left the room.

      Left alone nursing her coffee, Cat felt a growing sense of dissatisfaction creep over her. Charlie was obviously determined to undermine her at every turn, which was going to make for a very stressful day. She tried to distract herself by reading the day’s news on her phone. Normally she would have found a discussion to join or at least added a sage comment to some big PR story but she felt almost paralysed. Cat had half-expected the world to grind to a halt without her. She knew it was a ridiculous notion but she couldn’t quite believe that Hemingway Media was still functioning in her absence. She flicked to its Twitter page. All was calm, normal and working perfectly well. She was about to tweet to Ava when a call came from upstairs.

      ‘Auntie Cat! We’ve run out of toothpaste and I can’t find any clean pants,’ cried Ellie.

      Cat sighed. How quickly the world had changed from dynamic creativity to clean underwear. Still, she would not be defeated. Today’s project was all about giving the children a day they would never forget and perhaps even persuading them that she really was the perfect aunt.

      As Andrew put a near-hysterical Ellie to bed that night and Charlie was confined to his room once again, Cat had to concede that the best-laid plans of mice and men are often prone to a visit from Mr and Mrs Cock-up. She had also realised that her limited knowledge of children’s needs was a bigger issue than she had originally anticipated.

      Her first mistake had been not to monitor Ellie’s sugar intake. Apparently a spoonful of sugar may help the medicine go down but approximately two hundred and fifty of them make children hyper, then tearful and ultimately quite sick. The biscuit followed by maple syrup, raisins, candyfloss, a Coke and finally a fondant chocolate pudding accompanied by vanilla ice-cream turned out to be a very bad combination for a swiftly tiring small girl.

      At first, Ellie had been the archetypal happy six-year-old, skipping along in the sunshine with her brother and aunt. Even Charlie seemed to brighten in the fresh air. When they boarded the train, he let Ellie sit by the window and even though he didn’t speak to his aunt, he talked to his sister, pointing out landmarks and making her laugh. They played word games; they didn’t invite Cat to join in but she didn’t care. She had successfully made it out of the house and onto the train with two small people. That had to be an achievement. Besides, it meant that she could check her e-mails uninterrupted. She smiled to herself as she spotted an e-mail from Jesse. He was just checking in with a question about the Paradise Rivers perfume launch but it restored her faith a little. He signed off with, ‘It’s not the same without you,’ and she felt immediate relief as she typed her reply. All would be well. The children were happy, the sun was shining, Jesse still needed her. Today would be a good day.

      ‘Do you have any sweets?’ asked Ellie.

      Cat rummaged in the bag her brother had packed. ‘There are some raisins.’

      ‘Ooh yummy, thanks,’ said Ellie, accepting a box.

      As they pulled in to Waterloo East, Cat stood up. ‘We’re getting off here,’ she said expecting them to follow. She made her way to the door and turned to see Ellie on her heels but

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