Katy Carter Keeps a Secret Read Online Free PDF Page A

sophisticated? This isn’t trendy Rock or foodie heaven Padstow. I’m feeling a bit cross-eyed actually.
    I’m still squinting at the packets and wondering which variety to use when Maddy bowls in with Bluebell and Rafferty in tow. At least I think it’s my godchildren whose wrists are clamped inside her fingers, but it’s hard to tell since one’s dressed as Spiderman and the other appears to now be some kind of Ninja Turtle.
    “Fancy-dress party,” Mads explains when I enquire about their attire. “As if I don’t have enough to do without having to try and make costumes and bake fairy cakes, now I’ve got to find a sodding card.”
    “Don’t swear, Mummy,” says Spiderman piously. This has to be Rafferty because he sounds just like his father. How terrifying is that? I’m nervous; he’ll be asking me where I stand with Jesus if I don’t get out of here pronto.
    “I said spodding,” Mads tells him, rolling her eyes at me. “Never have kids, Katy. It’s like living with the bloody Gestapo.”
    “You said bloody,” pipes up Donatello or whichever turtle Bluebell has chosen as her alter ego today. “Daddy will be very cross and Jesus will be very sad.”
    My best friend sighs. “Fine. You win. Go and choose some forgetful sweets.”
    Olympic runners off the block don’t move as fast as the Lomax twins tear over to the pick ’n’ mix. This is obviously a very familiar activity, although that’s hardly surprising: before she was married to a vicar, Maddy’s vocabulary made Gordon Ramsay sound like Mary Poppins. If Bluebell and Rafferty have any teeth left by the time they’re ten it will be a miracle.
    “ Forgetful sweets ?”
    “Don’t look at me like that.” Mads grabs the first card she sees and stuffs it into her basket. I don’t really think with deepest sympathy is the most appropriate choice for a five-year-old’s birthday party, but the expression on her face is one I know from experience not to mess with, so I keep quiet. “Seriously, Katy. If Richard so much as thinks I’ve said ‘bum’ in front of the twins he’ll go mental. You know what he’s like.”
    I certainly do. He’s only just about forgiven me for the twins chirping bollocks merrily to themselves. Apparently it was my fault because it happened to coincide with the time I fetched them from nursery and wrote my car off driving through a deep puddle. This was over two years ago – and since Richard, being a vicar, is pretty much obliged to forgive people, it gives you an idea of just how seriously he takes these things.
    “You’d better start finding different words to use before all their teeth fall out,” I suggest, and Mads nods.
    “Yep, you’re right, or otherwise when they hit their teens and start demanding iPads, I’m screwed.” She claps her hand over her mouth. “Oops. I mean, I’m in trouble.”
    “I heard that. Can I have some sweets too?” I ask, and Mads wallops me with her basket.
    “Don’t you start. Anyway, what are you doing in here? Are you food shopping?” My best friend’s brow crinkles as she peers into my basket and clocks the lone onion and packet of bacon I’ve chucked in. “I thought Ollie did the food shopping? And the cooking?”
    I ignore this comment. I do food shopping too. Of course I do. I often phone the Indian and sometimes the pizza place too.
    Joking aside, Ol likes to cruise the aisles of Waitrose. He says after a day at school the supermarket relaxes him. I love my boyfriend very much but even I find this a bit weird and I have a sneaking suspicion he only says this to keep me from going myself and filling the trolley with scented candles and paperbacks.
    “I’m cooking risotto,” I tell her proudly. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
    “So you thought you’d poison Ol? I thought you liked the guy? Can’t you just jump his bones? He’ll probably survive that.”
    I doubt it. He’d probably die of shock.
    “Very funny,” I say and then, because I can’t keep