Read Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes Online
Authors: Amanda Martin
Tags: #romance, #pregnancy, #london, #babies, #hea, #photography, #barcelona
Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes
AMANDA
MARTIN
BABY BLUES AND WEDDING SHOES
Amanda Martin was born in Hertfordshire
in 1976. After graduating with first class honours from Leeds
University she wandered around the world trying to find her place
in it. She tried various roles, in England and New Zealand,
including Bar Manager, Marketing Manager, Consultant and Artist,
before deciding that Writer/Mummy best summed her up. She lives in
Northamptonshire with her husband, two children and labradoodle
Kara and can mostly be found at
http://writermummy.wordpress.com
COPYRIGHT
Published by 3AD Publishers at
Smashwords
Copyright © Amanda Martin 2013
Discover other titles by Amanda Martin
at Smashwords.com:
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 1
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 2
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 3
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 4
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 5
Amanda Martin asserts the moral right to
be
identified as the author of this work
This novel is entirely a work of
fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely
coincidental.
All rights reserved.
This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com
and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author.
http://www.amanda-martin.co.uk
http://writermummy.wordpress.com
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration
finds
Shakespeare, Sonnet 116
“Helen, it's Daniel.”
Helen turned down the hob and
walked through the apartment to the lounge, where the phone signal
was stronger.
What now?
She released
her breath slowly so her sigh wouldn’t be audible down the phone
line.
“There's been a slight change
of plan.”
Of course there has.
It
would be funny if she was watching from someone else's vantage
point. There was always a change of plan.
He really has no concept of
what it means once the oven is on.
Helen waited silently,
praying it was no more than two extra mouths to feed.
Any more
than that and I’ll have to dial for Chinese and hope nobody
notices
.
“Their IT woman wants to come
too…”
Helen was about to smile when
she heard the remainder of Daniel’s news.
“…and she's a macrobiotic
vegan.”
“What the hell is one of those?
Can you even be macrobiotic and vegan?” Helen had catered to some
fussy eaters but this was a new one. “No, don’t worry, I’ll have a
look online.” No point asking Daniel. “See you later, Sweetie.”
Helen hung up the phone and typed the search into her laptop. She
finally located a site that listed things she had in the cupboard,
as long as the woman didn’t mind brown rice for dinner and didn’t
ask if it was local or organic.
I knew Daniel hadn't paid the
slightest attention to the menu I put on his desk. He’s given more
attention to our wedding supper than he gives to his business
dinners. I thought men generally cared more for business than
romance. I guess I'm just lucky.
The thought made her smile as
she waited to hear if there were any more last minute surprises.
She could put up with a hectic dinner party if the wedding all went
to plan.
Humming as she went back into
the kitchen Helen grinned at the pile of RSVPs on the breakfast
bar.
I came to London seeking my
fortune like everyone else. I might not have the dream job but my
life is full of riches nonetheless.
Then she giggled at how corny
that sounded and went to turn up the hob.
Helen covered her mouth with her
napkin to hide a yawn and tried to concentrate on what Daniel was
saying. It wasn’t wise to be caught daydreaming, particularly not
when he was delivering one of his key findings. To help her focus,
Helen concentrated on Daniel’s rich voice, vibrant with conviction,
and imagined him saying his vows. As he sat at the head of the
table and surveyed his audience she tried to picture him delivering
his wedding speech. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch
upwards, although there was nothing amusing in what Daniel was
saying now.
“Our new system will
revolutionise the way workflow is managed, but to maximise
effectiveness we must ensure a time and motion study is undertaken,
to identify any weak links among employees. There will of course be
some deadwood to be cleared out.”
As Daniel announced job cuts
with the relish of a chef detailing his latest gourmet menu, Helen
chewed at the inside of her cheek.
It’s lucky I love you,
Daniel, because you sound like a prick right now.
Feeling an angry flush rise up
past the low-cut neck of the dress Daniel bought for her last
birthday, Helen turned her focus on the other people sat around the
table, trying to gauge their reaction to Daniel’s verdict. On
Daniel’s left sat Mike, Daniel’s lawyer, nodding emphatically.
Helen looked at his wide-eyed expression and had to suppress a
giggle.
If he had a tail it would be
wagging.
Steve from Accounts, sitting
opposite Mike, was also nodding but in such a way that Helen
wondered if Daniel was merely a mouthpiece for Steve’s complicated
calculations.
How must it feel to always
sit quietly and let someone else take the glory?
She tried to
imagine Steve delivering the message of necessary redundancies and
realised that Daniel was by far the better medium for such news.
She couldn’t imagine Steve’s monotonous voice giving the words much
weight.
Sitting between Mike and
herself was the Client Director, Andy. Daniel had been brought in
at his request so of course he had to look eager at the results of
Daniel’s consultancy. As Helen surveyed the Director’s face she
realised there was something else there, too.
He’s not really comfortable
with this. I guess he’s the one who has to deliver the news to the
Unions. I’m glad I don’t have his job.
The last seat at the table was
occupied by the late addition, Georgina, head of IT. Seeming to
sense Helen’s scrutiny, Georgina turned and met her gaze. Helen
shivered and her eyes narrowed.
I should be grateful not to be
the only woman for a change, but she’s worse than the men.
Georgina raised her plucked
eyebrows once before turning her angular, tanned, shoulders back
towards Daniel, effectively dismissing Helen from her mind.
Helen chanced a quick look at
the clock behind Daniel’s dark cropped hair and swallowed a sigh.
Sitting up straighter in her chair, she tried to project an air of
interest. She realised the people around her were discussing
Daniel’s pronouncement and she quickly tuned back into the
conversation.
“When the new system has been
implemented fully, I can envisage us being able to cut our numbers
by at least half.” Georgina’s voice was as sharp as her shoulders,
cutting through the lower tones of the men.
Helen couldn’t understand why
Georgina looked so pleased.
Surely it must hurt to lay off
staff? Think about the families facing a summer of unemployment and
job hunting.
Helen fidgeted in her chair and tried to keep her
face blank as Georgina and Steve leaned in together, discussing
capital savings and other things that made Helen’s mind go
numb.
Come on, come on. You’ve heard
the news now, surely that’s enough? Let’s wrap this up.
Normally Helen didn’t mind
listening to the discussions around the table at Daniel’s dinner
parties. When the purpose of the dinner was to entertain clients
Helen found the banter enjoyable. Tonight though the talk was all
business. It was harder to follow the conversation and even more
difficult to look interested.
Besides, I need to get an early
night tonight. Maybe if I go get dessert it will move things
along.
Helen rose from the table and
gathered up the empty dinner plates, reaching silently past the
guests. Andy and Steve gave her a smile, but Mike and Georgina both
ignored her. Helen felt the flush from earlier beginning to rise
again.
As she crossed the tiny hallway
between the apartment’s dining room and kitchen she let the muscles
in her face drop with relief. The respite was short-lived as an
acrid smell ambushed her nostrils when she opened the kitchen
door.