Katy Carter Keeps a Secret (35 page)

I blink. Then I rub my eyes but no! He’s still heading towards me, his eyes holding mine and his expression deadly serious. He’s in a tuxedo too and he looks so gorgeous. My knees are more watery than Pinchy’s tank.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper. “I thought you were in Paris?”

Ollie steps forward and takes my trembling hands in his. “I hoped you’d think that. I have a bit of a confession to make, Katy, because the thing is I never actually went to Paris. I flew straight to New York.”

My head is whirling and I hold his hands as tightly as I can, as though only Ollie is keeping me from spinning away. Except that it’s not
as though
at all: it’s always been Ollie and only Ollie who keeps me steady. Without him I’m as lost as a balloon without its string, drifting away high above the rooftops and blown about with every breeze and current.

“You were in New York all along? Are you here for Frankie and Gabriel?”

Ollie laughs and laces his fingers with mine. “Great as they are – no! The only person I’m here for is standing right in front of me. I’ve another confession. There isn’t a party but I
may
have asked Frankie to help me out a little by telling you there was.” He pauses and a worried crease appears between his brows. “I hope you’re not too disappointed? You were expecting your Kardashians and you’ve ended up with me instead.”

“You could never disappointment me!” I cry. I haven’t a clue what’s going on and it’s probably all just a dream knowing my luck, but I’m so beyond thrilled to see him that I couldn’t care less about parties or celebrities. “Oh, Ollie, it’s me who’s disappointed you by writing that stupid, stupid book and by not telling you about it in the first place. I know it’s made life really hard for you at St Jude’s and I’m so sorry I’ve let you down. I promise it will never happen again.”

Ollie pulls me into his arms and holds me tight against his chest. I think I’m smearing the lovely white shirt of his dress suit with mascara, but it’s so wonderful to be held by him that there’s no chance I’m stepping away. The shirt will just have to be a casualty.

“You could never, ever let me down!” he says fiercely. “I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve ever done has been for us, Katy Carter. Don’t you think I know that?”

“But it doesn’t always end so well,” I half sob, half laugh.

“Maybe not,” Ollie agrees, tenderly wiping my tears away with his thumb before kissing my nose, “but what a lot of fun we have along the way! Lava-lamp fireworks! Naked butlers! Looking for treasure under the floor! I’d be bored rigid with anyone else, Katy. You’ve ruined me for life. I’ll never love anyone else the way I love you.”

I stare up at him. “Really?”

“Really,” he says. “Heaven help me!”

I take a deep breath. No more secrets. “Would you still love me if I told you I’d thought you had a thing for Carolyn Miles?”

He raises his eyebrows. “I’d still love you, but I’d wonder a bit about your sanity.
Carolyn Miles
? I hardly think so!”

Well, yes, obviously now and with my hindsight goggles on I feel exactly the same way.

“I might have confronted her about it too,” I add. “When I thought you’d run away to Paris with her?”

Ollie whistles. “Whatever’s been going on in your head?”

So, because this is all a dream, I tell him and I don’t hold back either. I explain how I was worried about him and Carolyn working together, the missed calls from her, the Saturday meeting, his locked phone, the vanishing money, and finally how I called her in Paris and demanded to know the truth.

I know what you’re wondering. Did I tell him about spying on them both on my supply-teaching day?

Don’t be daft. There are some things a girl has to keep quiet for the sake of her own dignity – even in a dream!

Anyway, even without that particular detail, by the time I’ve finished recounting everything Ollie’s looking a bit shell-shocked.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been worrying about that all this time?”

I nod and he hugs me hard.

“I’m so, so sorry if anything I’ve said or done has made you feel insecure. Believe me, that’s the total opposite of what I was intending.” He shakes his head. “What a bloody irony! I was working all those hours for us, Katy! I wanted to be able to offer you a future.”

“And I wanted to do the same with my writing!” I cry.

We stare at each other and burst out laughing.

“What a pair we make,” says Ollie. “No more secrets now though, OK?”

“No more secrets,” I agree. “So, flights to New York aside, what else have you not been telling me? And don’t even try to change the subject. No more secrets, you just said!”

“Sometimes,” Ollie says with feeling, “I really need to keep my big mouth shut!”

“I’ve told you everything,” I say, snuggling against him. Wow, this is a vivid dream. He even smells delicious and Ollie-like. “So now it’s your turn to tell me what’s been going on. After all, you’ve been keeping secrets too.”

“I don’t deny it,’ he nods. “But actually, I think I can go one better. Why don’t Pinchy and I show you exactly what I’ve been keeping secret?”

I stare at him. “What?”

He points to the string. “Why don’t you give that a tug and see? Pinchy’s been looking after something for me. That’s why I needed to get you here. After all, it’s really down to Pinchy that we’re together in the first place, so it only seems fair he helps out now. I couldn’t believe my luck when he showed up again. It was like fate! It was perfect!”

It’s official: the stress of teaching has got to Ollie. Still, I’m curious now and sure enough the string is in Pinchy’s tank. Right, I’ll give it a yank and – oh!

Water splashes onto my bare shoulder as the string whips out of the water so fast that both Pinchy and I leap back. There’s a clatter on the floor. What? Something’s attached to the string I’ve just pulled out of the water.

I wonder what it is? I’ll just bend down and pick it up…

Hold on. It looks like… looks like…

A ring. A beautiful square-cut ring, exactly like the ones I was looking at in the magazines! It is! It’s a ring!

“Is that what I think it is?” I breathe, turning it around in my hands and not able to believe my eyes.

“I don’t know,” grins Ollie. “What do you think it is?”

My mouth is dry. “A ring?”

“Well done, Miss Marple,” he says. “What kind of ring do you deduce this might be?”

“An engagement ring?” I whisper and he nods slowly.

“Of course it is. Phew. What a relief to tell you at last. I really thought the game was up when you saw that bank statement.”

Suddenly lots of things are becoming very clear. No wonder Ann never got her necklace.

“I can’t think how I got the idea for what kind of ring you wanted,” he adds wryly. “It’s almost like somebody left some very big hints lying around the house.”

“Rubbish – they were incredibly subtle,” I protest. “They must have been, since it’s taken you five years to get them.”

“Ah yes. Time for me to explain all that,” Ol says.

Hand in hand, we sit down next to Pinchy’s tank and slowly he tells me how all the extra work he was doing at school was to try to pay for the ring and a romantic proposal – but each time he thought the bank balance was looking healthy something happened to wipe it out and take him back to square one. There’s quite a list, now he comes to mention it: cars (I never knew that if you drove a diesel through water it could write the engine off, and I swear that puddle looked very shallow); replanting his mother’s entire garden (how was I to know what those seeds really were that Dad gave Ann one Christmas?); shorting the wiring (we all know about the lava lamp); and then the floor, of course, as well as all our usual bills and the leaky roof.

“I’d saved for the ring finally and I had enough to take you to New York at half-term,” Ollie says, kissing me so tenderly that I melt like ice cream. “I’ve paid for it all by doing extra marking and tutoring. I didn’t want to spend a penny of the money in the joint account, because that was both of ours. I wanted all of this to be from me to you, because that’s how it should be for a romantic proposal. After all, I can’t imagine Darcy would expect Lizzy Bennet to pay for her own ring!”

“The dress, the suite, the flights.” I’m blown away. “You paid for all of it, didn’t you? Not Frankie?”

Ollie smiles. “Much as I love my cousin I’m not letting him take the credit for this! Look, Katy, I know I’ve been hard to live with and I’ve been working long hours but this is why. I hope you can forgive me for keeping all these secrets? That was the bit I really didn’t like.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I say. “If anything it’s me who should be apologising for ever doubting you in the first place.”

“Secrets suck,” says Ollie. “I should know, since I’ve been keeping enough of them. I took on exam marking and crammer classes, and I tutored pupils at school in the evening too. I had to put a lock on my phone in case you saw the messages from my tutees’ parents. That would have given the game away. Luckily Carolyn knew I was planning this and she made all the arrangements with them and backed me up. She’s been brilliant. She and Sam even let me use their house.”

Lord. I don’t think I could feel much worse. I got it all wrong, didn’t I? Just as well I’m not a member of the
Scooby-Doo
team. I’d pull the mask off the villain and it would be totally the wrong person underneath.

“Mads knew too, didn’t she? And Holly!” I cry. Now it’s all making sense. No wonder they’ve been so odd recently. “I knew they were up to something!”

Ollie laughs. “Of course they did. I needed them on side to keep you off the scent. And Frankie knew, of course, and Guy – he’s been brilliant getting me into here tonight. He’s pulled all kinds of strings and I probably owe him gallons of beer, but it’s worth it because having Pinchy here completes the journey. Do you know, I’m actually glad I never cooked him!”

We glance at Pinchy. Is it my imagination or does he seem relieved too? At any rate, I’m pretty sure he looks away when we start kissing…

“Ol,” I say eventually, when we break apart, “I never want you to have to work that hard again. I have much better things in mind for you than marking extra exam papers! I’ll go back to teaching and give up being Isara Lovett, even if the publisher makes a fuss. Your career is more important than writing for Throb.”

He traces my cheek tenderly. “I do love my job, Katy, but I love you far, far more. And anyway, I’ve already handed in my notice at St Jude’s. I don’t want anything or anyone in my life who isn’t proud of my fiancée. Besides, I’m rather looking forward to meeting Isara Lovett! I thought I might even ask the Waldorf’s room service if they have any clothes pegs and cabbages!”

I shudder. “I think I’d rather live on cabbages than write another book for Throb. Hope you don’t mind starving, Ollie. They’ll probably sue me for breaking the contract – and I can’t imagine many schools will be keen to hire Isara Lovett to teach English.”

Ollie’s eyes crinkle at me. “From what I’ve heard, Isara Lovett has a fine command of Anglo-Saxon. Anyway, I think you might find that Nicky has a solution. I’ll say one thing for my little brother: he’s enterprising. Why work your naked arse off when you can tell the commissioning editor of Throb that you’re really Isara Lovett and earn even more money sitting on your arse typing?”

My jaw drops. “He didn’t?”

“He did,” says Ollie. “And it looks like they’ve gone for it and you’re off the hook – with Throb anyway. They were so happy with the last book they don’t care who really wrote it, just as long as there’s more to come. But off the hook with my parents? Now that’s another matter. Explaining all this to their friends should be interesting!”

I gulp. “At least it will fund Nicky’s gap year.”

“And beyond, from what I’ve heard,” Ol smiles. “He’ll do very well. This is Nicky we’re talking about after all. He’ll probably be Prime Minister by the time he’s twenty-five. Or inside!”

I feel like an enormous Throb-sized weight’s just fallen from my shoulders. OK, so Ollie and I will be jobless and penniless pretty soon, but at least we’re free from the burdens we’ve both been carrying. And that’s priceless.

“Talking of money,” Ollie continues, “I had a phone call from my father just before I left. Remember I told you Dad confiscated those bottles you’d found under the floor?”

“Cecily Greville’s treasure?” I grimace. I think I still have the splinters from pulling up the floorboards that night. The floor looks as though it has a few extra bumps and dents, and my pride certainly does. “I’m still embarrassed about that.”

“Don’t be,” says Ollie. “That’s why Dad was calling. You know what a wine buff he is, and when he saw those bottles he was intrigued. He took them away for analysis and guess what? They’re full of Sazerac de Forge cognac.”

“Great!” I say. Actually I have no idea if this is great or not, but if it puts me in the good books with Geoff then I’m happy. Hooray for Sazerac de Forge, I say!

“It’s better than great!” Taking my hands, Ollie pulls me to my feet and starts to waltz me around the room. “Katy! That stuff’s worth over ten grand a bottle! You did find the treasure after all! You dug up an absolute fortune!”

I’m stunned. Those dusty old bottles are worth ten grand each?

“Well,” I say, giving him my
I told you so
look,
“didn’t I say there was treasure under that floor?”

“You certainly did – so never, ever doubt yourself,” says Ollie, kissing me and twirling me around some more. “Yes, you’re crazy and impulsive and impossible to live with but I wouldn’t have you any other way. You’re Katy Carter and I love you exactly as you are.”

Then he lets go of me and drops to one knee. He reaches for my hand. The room feels so very quiet suddenly, and all I can hear is the racing of my heart.

“Katy Carter,” Ollie says softly, “five years ago on Tregowan quay I asked you to marry me and I meant it, every word, but I had nothing to offer you except a red setter, a heap of debts and a rusting camper van. You’re worth so much more and I wanted to be able to give you everything, to be able to do this properly and in style just like one of your romantic heroes. Darcy perhaps? Or maybe Rochester?” He grins up at me. “Not Alexi though. He’s certainly enthusiastic but not very romantic!”