Plan B by Emily Barr

with my parents on Friday night, and he’ll spend the weekend with them, and I’ll catch the train out straight after work, at six forty-two. Then I’ll come back on Sunday afternoon. Seven minutes past four. In fact you might want to come with me. It’s so much nicer on the train.’ She looked at him, waiting for a reaction. ‘And I’ve taken the liberty of upgrading the accommodation,’ she added. ‘There’s a room reserved for us at the George V.’
    Hugh raised his eyebrows. Then he lowered them. He shifted a little in his seat and took a sip of wine, followed by another. He smiled, and then frowned.
    ‘That might be a little bit tricky,’ he said.
    Everything he told her sounded reasonable. He had been frantic at weekends on his project. Busier than he’d told her because he hadn’t wanted to complain. This coming weekend he was going to be spending all day visiting some important people who were crucial to the project, which was to do with the euro. Yes, it was strange to work on Sundays, yes, he should be being paid a huge amount of money for it. He would contribute more to the household in future. It was a lovely idea, and perhaps some other weekend they could do it. He was terribly sorry.
    Jo stared at him, not quite believing what she was hearing. ‘You mean I have to cancel my tickets, and our reservation? I have to stay home with Olly after all? You don’t want to see me there, even after all your important meetings?’
    Hugh swallowed hard. ‘No. Of course I want you there. Don’t cancel. I’ll see what I can do.’
    Neither of them enjoyed their food. Jo was annoyed that she had had to force him to agree to what should have been a delightful and irresistible proposition. Hugh felt sick. He was committed, now, to spending next weekend in Paris, with Jo. He was going to have to concoct the pretend framework of a life there, or he would be found out. He would be expected to pay for the George V and at least two Michelin-starred restaurants. And he would not be able to spend the weekend with Emma and Alice.
    There was still nearly a year left before his self-imposed deadline. Perhaps, he thought, he should sort his life out sooner than that.

Chapter Nine
    I was not happy when Matt stayed in London for an entire weekend. We did not see him from one Sunday afternoon until the Thursday eleven days later. I knew he had to work, and he promised to buy a load of antique furniture to fill in some of the gaps in the house as a penance, but none of that leavened my loneliness. Alice was bitterly disappointed.
    I put a brave face on it. ‘Don’t worry,’ I told him, as he almost cried in frustration down the phone. ‘It’s a one-off. It doesn’t matter. Just take care of yourself.’
    Then I put Alice on. ‘Daddy,’ she said crossly. ‘You come back. Just right now. Or I’m going to be very angry.’
    She had the right idea. But we hung on, and eventually Thursday came and Matt was home.
    On Friday, we took Alice to school. She hung her coat on her peg, held out each foot in turn for me to take off her outdoor shoes and put on her red slippers, and walked off.
    ‘Bye then,’ Matt called after her.
    Alice looked casually over her shoulder. ‘ Au revoir, ’ she said, and ran to a group of children sitting cross-legged on a mat. The teacher gave me a nod and a smile.
    ‘She settled quickly, in the end,’ she said.
    Matt laughed. He had barely seen her unsettled, had never been the parent who broke her heart by abandoning her. ‘She’s a good girl,’ he said in careful French.
    We drove on into town, and parked behind the central square. From there we strolled through the drizzle to the café and ordered large white coffees. I looked around. The woman who had sorted out our gas tank was in there again, with a young woman and a little boy. As soon as I caught her eye, she came over.
    ‘Hello!’ she said warmly, and she introduced herself to Matt as Celine. ‘How’s the house? Is it