One Day in May - Catherine Alliott [0]
One Day in May
CATHERINE ALLIOTT
MICHAEL JOSEPH
an imprint of
PENGUIN BOOKS
MICHAEL JOSEPH
Published by the Penguin Group
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First published 2010
Copyright © Catherine Alliott, 2010
The moral right of the author has been asserted
All rights reserved
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978-0-141-95737-1
For Al
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
1
Maggie’s look of fixed concentration as we hurtled up the M40 was to be encouraged, and for a moment I pretended I hadn’t heard her last remark. Instead I simulated sleep. An in-depth analysis of my family would surely require her to take her eyes off the road, and since her lack of white van handling skills was legendary, I wanted them firmly on the Friday afternoon traffic.
‘Hattie?’ she barked above the lawnmower roar of the engine, not one to be ignored. ‘I said, isn’t your sister spoiled beyond belief these days? I haven’t seen her for ages, but I seem to remember she had everything she wanted even then. Didn’t you say she’d eaten one interior designer for breakfast already?’
I sighed, realizing my pathetic eye-closing ruse was going nowhere. I also remembered that whilst it was quite all right for me to have a go at my family now and then, I resented it when my friends did.
‘I didn’t say she was spoiled,’ I said evenly. ‘I simply said she’s got some quite grandiose ideas. But then her taste has never been anything like mine, particularly when it comes to doing up houses. She likes everything draped and patterned and swagged, which is fine in the country, but it’s hardly you and me, is it?’
‘Hardly,’ Maggie snorted with derision, then looked pleased. She