Playing by the Rules: The feel-good heart-warming and uplifting romance perfect for Valentine’s Day

‘You brought her here?’ My eyes bulged.

‘She insisted. She’s only ever met you all briefly and she loves you girls and wanted to get to know you better.’

‘But here?’ I said in a loud whisper, grabbing his hand and heading for the dining room before Suma could attack anyone else with her headgear.

Suma was pinching Ebony’s cheek when we got to the dining room. Ebony’s cheek was pink and Mother’s face and neck were like her name – scarlet red.

‘This was supposed to be family only,’ Mother said looking daggers at Father. ‘Not you, Anya dear.’ She reached to pat Anya’s hand. ‘But you know what I mean, Carl.’

‘Scarlett, don’t make this any more awkward than it needs to be,’ Father said as he sat down and pulled Suma’s hand away to stop her from stroking Ebony’s hair.

‘You girls are all so beautiful,’ Suma gushed. ‘I wonder what our children will look like, Carl.’ Suma picked up a water glass and started to drink, not noticing the deathly silence that had hit the room. At age forty-two, Suma was childless and obviously had plans to rectify the situation but I was quite certain that at sixty-two, there was no way Father wanted to travel that road again. One look at him confirmed that. Beads of sweat sprung to his brow and he hastily got the caterers to serve him and Suma up a starter each. I didn’t dare look at Mother but I did cast an eye at all my sisters after Suma dropped the ‘children’ bomb.

Amber had just put food into her mouth, which promptly fell out because she forgot to close it. Indigo had leaned her chin on her hand, elbow on the table and gawped at Father. Ebony was trying not to either laugh or cry – I couldn’t tell which – and Anya was taking some of her starter off her plate and putting it onto her bread dish.

I lifted my wine glass.

‘To me,’ I said loudly. ‘To my new job. To my wonderful little sister for sorting out the job for me and to Anya for shipping me over a Ferrari.’

They all raised their glasses and the clink of crystal never sounded more like tumbleweed rolling down a deserted street. I drank the whole glass in one hit. Mother just stared into hers.

‘You are very lucky, Magenta,’ said Suma. ‘To have a little sister who is doing so much better than you and can help you out in such a situation. I mean, a quarter of a million pounds is a lot of money.’

‘Yes, I realise that,’ I said, looking at Father.

‘Magenta is a talented artist you know?’ he said turning to Suma. ‘If she wanted to she could go far with her art.’ We all knew that was bullshit but I was thankful to Father for trying to make me appear less of a hopeless case in Suma’s eyes.

‘But you don’t want your younger sister to surpass you,’ Suma continued, tucking into the starter and not pausing to finish her mouthful before blundering on. ‘You know, both your older sisters are married and you should be next but at this rate your little sister will beat you to it.’

‘I have no intention of getting married,’ Ebony piped up.

‘But do you have a boyfriend, Magenta?’ Suma persisted. ‘Ever been in love?’

How could I answer that at this strained dinner table? I’d need a week to tell Suma the story. I simply smiled, shrugged my shoulders and stabbed at a prawn. My mind went back to the night I met Hugo. That first long walk with him was a revelation. At eighteen, I didn’t know what a soulmate was but I knew Hugo was mine. I discovered he was a musician. He played the drums. His band was doing fairly well on the indie circuit.

I had always had a weakness for men in bands but that wasn’t the reason I went back to his place and made love to him that very night. No, there was something else, something more, and I thought I would find it in the unmade bed in his warm bedroom, the sheets falling onto the floor, my arms and legs wrapped around Hugo’s body.

We slept with our bodies in a neat knot all night and in the morning I discovered a million and one missed calls and texts from the friends I’d been out with the night before. They wanted to know if I was still alive, kidnapped, savaged by wolves or abducted by aliens. Either way, could I fucking well call or text back. I couldn’t wait to tell them I had been entranced by a tall stranger with broad shoulders, a slim face, a scraggy goatee and spiky hair. After a morning of hungry sex I texted them furiously from his bathroom and told them all I was in love. I didn’t leave Hugo’s flat for three days.

‘This food is great, Mother.’ I turned to her and tilted my empty plate to her the way I did when I was little girl and wanted to be excused from the table.

‘Why did you call in caterers?’ Suma shouted across the table to Mother. ‘Can’t you cook?’

‘And can’t you mind your own bloody business?’ Mother shouted back.

‘No, I didn’t mean … I was only asking …’ Suma flapped.

‘Scarlett,’ Father put in. ‘Suma didn’t mean anything by it.’ And within seconds an all-out row ensued across the dinner table between Mother and Father. Suma was reduced to tears. Amber and Indigo kept on sipping wine and chatting, Ebony left the room and Anya stared hard at me. It should have been a dinner in my honour but it turned out to be an ugly slanging match. The caterers did their best to collect the starters and serve the main course while an all-out war of words was in full flow.

After a while Amber implied that Father should have more decorum and not bring uninvited guests to dinner. Indigo implied that Mother should rise above it and be more welcoming. Suma dried her tears with a napkin and tried to stop her lip from trembling as she continued to apologise for trying to be honest. Ebony came back into the room to get her wine.

‘You people have lost the plot,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a call to make.’ She was on her mobile and out of the door again in seconds.

Finally, there was a lull on the battlefield.

‘I’m in love,’ Anya suddenly said and stood up.

‘You see what you’ve done?’ Mother said to Father. ‘This poor girl has lost her parents and now she’s having a nervous breakdown.’ Mother patted Anya’s hand again.

‘It’s not my fault she’s having a nervous breakdown,’ said Father.

Just then Suma burst into tears again.

‘I should go,’ said Anya.

‘I’ll go with you,’ I said and we both made our escape.

Out on the street, it was still light at eight-thirty and I was still hungry.

‘Can we go to the pub around the corner?’ I asked Anya.

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

And with all that in my wake, all I could wish for was that Anthony’s meeting with the finance department would be nothing like the scene that just took place in my mother’s dining room.

Chapter 8 (#ulink_6038f03c-a970-5ca3-9e05-ce9da548649a)

I switched on the breakfast news for a weather check the following morning as I got ready for work. The bright and sunny August morning I’d woken up to the day before had been replaced by one that was cloudy and threatening rain. I kept missing the weather report as I flitted in and out of the room, half listening to the daily dramas being unleashed both at home and abroad: the wildfire being controlled in California, the explosions at a port in China, Sam Smith licking his waxwork double at Madame Tussauds in San Francisco and, front-page news at home, the politician about to be ousted from government. Despite the greyish morning, I chose my lucky open-toe shoes, in an attempt to ward off the impending drama at the office.

Maybe the finance department would report to Anthony that, yes, the company was sunk and that my job would be gone in the blink of an eye and I’d never see Anthony again. I smarted at the possibility of Mother throwing a commiseration party, only this time I’d keep my big mouth shut and not insist that Father be there.

Anthony was already in his office when I arrived. The meeting was at nine o’clock and I arrived at eight-thirty to do PA type things like make sure the coffee was brewed. I’d bought pastries on the way in to soften what might be a hard blow for Anthony, making sure there was a good supply of doughnuts as I remembered he liked those and not muffins.

‘Magenta, you’re brilliant,’ Anthony said from the doorway of the kitchen.

‘Just doing my job,’ I said.

‘Well let’s hope that after the meeting we both still have jobs.’

‘We will,’ I said trying to hide the doubt in my voice.

‘Would you like to sit in?’ he asked.

‘If you’d like me to, sure.’

Over his shoulder I noticed the other members of staff arrive. They were grim-faced. I looked at the plate of pastries I’d taken time to arrange and hoped to goodness that along with the open-toe shoes, they’d do their magic and keep me in a job.

A little while later I walked into Anthony’s office with my tray of refreshments, straining under the weight of cups, a coffee pot and enough baked goods to anchor a small boat. In a room that seemed ominously grey and heavy with bad news, Anthony, who had taken off his jacket, sprang to his feet to help me.