Oh-So-Sensible Secretary / Housekeeper's Happy-Ever-After: Oh-So-Sensible Secretary. Jessica HartЧитать онлайн книгу.
first words were “Have you paid the electricity bill?”’ She laughed merrily.
‘Ken was my father,’ I explained to Phin. ‘He died when I was nine.’
‘Such a spiritual man!’ My mother sighed. ‘I know I should be glad he’s moved on to a higher astral plane, but I still miss him sometimes. We were totally in harmony, physically and spiritually.’
‘You’re lucky to have had that,’ said Phin gently. ‘It’s quite rare, I think.’
‘I know, and I’m so glad dear Summer is going to have the same feeling with you.’
I looked up from the alfalfa sprouts I was pushing around my plate, startled. ‘Er, Mum, I think you’ve got wrong end of the stick. Phin’s my boss.’
I might as well have spared my breath. ‘His colours are very strong,’ she said, and turned to him. ‘I’m getting a lot of yellow from you.’
‘Is that good?’ asked Phin, as if he was really interested.
‘In positive aspects, absolutely. Yellow is a warm colour. It relates to the personality, the ego.’
‘No wonder you’ve got so much of it,’ I said snippily, but Phin held up a hand.
‘Hold on, I get the feeling your mother really understands me.’
‘Yellow is how we feel about ourselves and about others.’ Did I tell you Mum is a colour therapist? ‘It tells me that you’re confident and wise and positive about life.’
‘And you thought I was just like everyone else,’ Phin said to me. ‘What about Summer? Is she as wise as me?’
‘Summer has a cool aura,’ said Mum, well away now. ‘She’s got a lot of indigo and blue. That means she’s fearless and dutiful and self-sacrificing, but she’s also kind and practical.’
Phin nudged me. ‘Bet you wish you were wise, like me!’
‘You’re a very good match,’ Mum said, and I scowled.
‘How do you work that out? Yellow and blue are quite different.’
‘But when you put them together they make green,’ said my mother. ‘That’s the colour of balance and harmony.’ She smiled at us both. ‘Green relates to the heart chakra, too. When it comes to giving and receiving love, it’s the perfect combination.’
‘Thank you for not laughing at her,’ I said to Phin when my mother had drifted off to prepare for the evening’s regression. I fingered the clear crystal pendulum (“Very good for energy tuning”) that she had pressed on me before she left. ‘I know she’s a bit wacky, but…’
‘But she’s so shiningly sincere you can’t help but like her,’ said Phin. ‘What’s not to like about someone who loves life as much as she does?’
As we walked back to the office I tried to imagine Jonathan sitting down to grilled tofu with my mother. I’d never really talked to him about my childhood. I’d had the feeling he’d be appalled by her flaky ideas, and I was absurdly grateful to Phin for seeing her good side.
‘It must have been hard for you, losing your father when you were so young.’ Phin broke into my thoughts. ‘Did you miss him?’
‘Not that much,’ I said honestly. ‘We were living in a commune then, and there were lots of other people around. Besides, we weren’t allowed to be sad. We had to rejoice that he had ascended to a higher plane.’
I shook my head, remembering. ‘I think it must have been much harder for my mother. They do seem to have really loved each other, and I suspect she threw herself into the spiritual side of things as a way of coping. She’s got a very flimsy grasp on reality, and sometimes she drives me mad, but at least she’s happy.’ I sighed. ‘And who am I to say what she should or shouldn’t believe?’
‘I can’t see you in a commune,’ Phin commented.
‘I hated it, but, looking back, it was the best place for Mum,’ I said reflectively. ‘I wish she’d join another. At least then someone else would worry about the day-to-day things.’
‘Like paying the electricity bill?’
‘Exactly. They were both hopeless with money, and just couldn’t be bothered with things like bills, so the electricity was always getting cut off. They thought it was funny that I used to fret, but if I didn’t sort out the practicalities no one else would.’
‘Sounds like they were the opposite of my parents,’ said Phin, as we waited to cross the road at the lights. ‘They were both obsessed with financial security. They thought that as long as they could pay for us to go to “good” schools and we had everything we wanted they would have done their duty as parents.’
He grinned at me suddenly. ‘We’re an ungrateful generation, aren’t we? My parents did their best, just like yours did. It’s not their fault that we want different things from them. Mine drive me mad, just like your mother does you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love them. The truth is that there’s part of me that still craves their approval. Why else would I be at Gibson & Grieve, getting in Lex’s way?’
‘At least you’re trying,’ I said. ‘My mother would be delighted if I gave up my job to channel angels or dowse for fairy paths. I don’t think she even knows what “career” means.’
We were passing a burger bar just then, and as the smell of barbecued meat wafted out Phin stopped and sniffed appreciatively. ‘Mmm, junk food…!’ His eyes glinted as he looked down at me. ‘Are you still hungry?’
‘What? After all those delicious alfalfa sprouts? How can you even ask?’
We took our burgers away and sat on the steps in front of the National Gallery, looking down over Trafalgar Square. It was a bright February day, and an unseasonal warmth in the air taunted us with the promise of spring.
I was certainly feeling a lot better than I had earlier that morning. I was still a bit fuzzy round the edges but my headache had almost gone. Perhaps my mother’s crystal was working after all.
‘What are you doing?’ Phin demanded as I unwrapped my burger and separated the bun carefully.
‘I don’t like the pickle,’ I said, picking it out with a grimace and looking around for somewhere to dispose of it.
‘Here, give it to me,’ he said with a roll of his eyes, and when I passed it over he shoved it into his own burger and took a huge bite.
‘See—we’re like a real couple already,’ he said through a mouthful.
I wished he hadn’t reminded me of the crazy pretence we’d embarked upon the night before. I couldn’t believe I’d actually agreed to it. I kept waiting for Phin to tell me that it was all a big joke, that he’d just been having me on.
‘Did you really tell Lex that we were going out?’
‘Uh-huh.’ He glanced down at me. ‘I told him that we were madly in love.’
I wanted to look away, but my eyes snagged on his and it was as if all the air had been suddenly sucked out of my lungs. Held by the blueness and the glinting laughter, I could only sit there and stare back at him, feeling giddy and yet centred at the same time.
It was a very strange sensation. I was acutely aware of the coldness of the stone steps, of the breeze in my face and the smell of the burger in my hands.
I did eventually manage to wrench my gaze away, but it was an effort, and I had to concentrate on my breathing as I watched the tourists milling around the square. They held their digital cameras at arm’s length, posing by the great stone lions or squinting up at Nelson on his column. A squabble erupted amongst the pigeons below us, and my eyes followed the red buses heading down Whitehall, but no matter where I looked all I saw was Phin’s image, as if imprinted behind my eyelids: the mobile mouth with its