Free Up Close and Personal by Leonie Fox Page A

Tilly’s five o’clock feed,’ she told her husband, raising her voice so she could be heard above the sound of drilling.
    Connor looked at his wife in horror. ‘Five o’clock? Surely you’ll be back by then.’
    ‘I doubt it,’ Nicole replied. ‘The girls and I have got lots to catch up on.’
    ‘But you only saw them at the weekend.’
    When Nicole failed to reply, Connor kicked the leg of the sofa like a sulky teenager. ‘I don’t know why you have to spend so much time with those women anyway,’ he grumbled.
    ‘Because they’re my friends ,’ she said shortly. ‘In any case, it will be good for you and Tilly to spend some quality time together.’
    Connor winced as a loud bang issued from the kitchen, followed by a string of expletives. ‘What am I supposed to do with her?’ he asked. ‘We can’t stay in the house with that bloody racket going on.’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Nicole said impatiently, wishing Connor were the sort of father who was bursting with ideas for fun-filled afternoons with his infant daughter. ‘Go for a walk … Take her to feed the ducks in the park. Or, if you’re really desperate, you could always go round to my mother’s.’
    Connor’s face lit up. ‘Brilliant! That’s what I’ll do.’
    Nicole’s heart sank. She should’ve known Connor would take the easy option. ‘You’d better go and wake Tilly up,’ she told him. ‘If you let her sleep too long now, she won’t go down tonight.’
    ‘Okay,’ Connor said in a bored tone. He turned as if to go, then glanced back over his shoulder. ‘Is that what you’re wearing to Yasmin’s?’
    Nicole looked down at her cotton wrapover dress. Admittedly, it was a size 14 when she was more like a 16 these days, but it was one of her favourites. ‘Why, what’s wrong with it?’
    Connor rubbed a hand over his jaw. ‘I think it makes you look a bit … you know … paunchy.’
    ‘Really?’ Nicole said, frowning. ‘I thought I looked quite nice.’
    Connor shrugged. ‘It’s fine, honestly. I shouldn’t have said anything.’
    ‘Then why did you?’ Nicole snapped as she snatched up her handbag and headed for the front door.
    Juliet was the first to arrive. It was a while since she’d visited the apartment and, as her hostess fetched cold drinks from the vast, American-style refrigerator, she found herself gazing around the open-plan space in envy. Housed in a former jam factory, Yasmin’s apartment was achingly chic, with exposed brickwork, mood lighting and a breathtaking Brazilian walnut floor. She’d softened the industrial architecture with clever use of texture and colour, and the bare walls had been brought to life with huge, fabric-covered canvases.
    ‘You are lucky,’ Juliet said as the younger woman joined her on the smart modular sofa. ‘I’d love to live in a place like this.’
    Yasmin wrinkled her nose disbelievingly. ‘Oh come on, why on earth would you want to live in a one-bedroom apartment when you’ve got Ashwicke?’
    Juliet took a sip of apple juice. ‘Yes, but the house is incredibly high maintenance and so … well … big. Even with the guests I sometimes feel quite lost in there.’
    ‘So why don’t you sell it?’
    Juliet looked at her aghast. ‘I couldn’t do that. Gus’s mother would never speak to me again.’
    ‘What’s it got to do with Eleanor?’ Yasmin replied. ‘It’s like Dante said the other night – the house is yours. You can do whatever you like with it.’
    Juliet sighed. ‘Well, yes, in theory – but I can’t help feeling a certain obligation to the Ingrams. Ashwicke used to be their family home after all, and it would be awful if it fell into the wrong hands. Imagine if the developers got hold of it … Eleanor and Piers would never forgive me.’
    ‘Well, I hope they appreciate all your efforts to keep Ashwicke going,’ Yasmin said. ‘They certainly didn’t seem very grateful the other night. I couldn’t believe it when Eleanor said Gus would be