Keeping Mum
Can YOU keep a secret? Find out in this riotous romantic comedy about secrets and lies, mothers and daughters and growing older but certainly no wiser…When Cass Palmer's mother announces she needs to move in with her - along with her sexy toyboy Rocco - forty-something Cass is horrified. The last time they lived together Cass was a tearaway teen, but now the tables have turned and mother Nita is the one behaving badly. Soon, Cass finds herself despairing of her mother's wild nights out, re-organisation of the entire household - from de-cluttering the cupboards to restocking the fridge - and worst of all, the sounds of her energetic love life!It's the last thing Cass needs after the return of old school chum and drama queen extraordinaire Fiona. Stretching their friendship to the limit, Fiona asks Cass to spy on her boyfriend Andy, whom she suspects of having an affair. With the subterfuge, living with her uninhibited mother and fending off her own unwanted admirers, Cass has just about reached her limit…A much-needed break in Cyprus should spell welcome relief. But with Nita left home alone, the truth about Andy's secret liaisons emerging and Fiona deciding if you can't beat them then join them, it's when the real fun and games begin…A riotously funny read about swapping roles and keeping secrets, for fans of Linda Kelsey and Jane Fallon.
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KATE LAWSON
Keeping Mum
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.
AVON
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2009
Copyright © Kate Lawson 2009
Kate Lawson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9781847560537
Ebook Edition © 2009 ISBN: 9780007328956 Version: 2018-05-31
To my lovely man, Phil, my beautiful boys, Ben, James, Joe and Sam, and my dog Beau, and also the Fabulous Fish ladies on Downham Market’s market.
Table of Contents
‘Blonde wig, sunglasses…’ Cass tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and looked herself up and down in the ornate mirror currently leaning up against the wall in the spare room. She turned left and right to gauge the full effect and then shook her head. ‘Fiona, I can’t go out dressed in this. I look like a hooker.’
‘No, you don’t. Of course you don’t,’ Fiona said briskly, tugging Cass’s wig down at the back. ‘You look…’ She hesitated. It was obvious that it was a struggle to find the right words.
‘Conspicuous and very dodgy?’ suggested Cass. ‘Let’s be honest, Fee, that’s the last thing you want from a spy.’
Fiona’s expression hardened. ‘Spy is a very emotive word,’ she snapped, handing Cass a trench coat and rolled black umbrella.
‘Oh, and these are meant to help me blend in, are they? I don’t think this is a good idea at all.’ Cass dropped the umbrella onto the bed. ‘And besides, I barely know Andy. I’ve only seen him a couple of times since you moved back.’
‘Exactly.’
‘What do you mean exactly?’
‘Well, if you knew him you could hardly spy on him, could you? He’d get suspicious, but this is fine. You know Andy well enough to recognise him in a crowd or pick him out in a bar, but not well enough for him to come rushing over or, worse still, go rushing off.’ As she spoke Fiona flicked Cass’s collar up and fluffed the wig so it looked a little more tousled.
‘There we are,’ she said. ‘That’s absolutely perfect.’
‘It’s not perfect. Remember the sixth leavers do? Vamps and tramps? You made me wear a corset and nearly got us both arrested?’
Fiona sniffed. ‘You always say that, but it was fine. I told the policeman we weren’t soliciting.’
Cass nodded. ‘Uh-huh—well all I need now are the fishnets.’
‘Don’t be so silly,’ said Fiona. ‘You look great.’
Cass wasn’t convinced.
From an overstuffed chair out on the landing, Mungo the resident ginger tom and Buster, Cass’s matching mongrel, watched proceedings with interest. They didn’t look convinced either.
‘It’s not like I’m asking you to bug him or anything,’ protested Fiona into what was proving quite a tricky silence. ‘All you have to do is watch, take a few photos and possibly notes, and let me know exactly what he is up to. And with who…’ Fiona paused. ‘I know he’s up to something.’ But if Fiona was hoping that Cass was going to leap into the breach, she was sadly mistaken.
‘I wouldn’t ask, Cass, but I can’t afford a private detective and I don’t know what else to do. Does your mobile phone have a camera with a zoom lens?’ Fiona asked, as she buttoned Cass into the trench coat.
This wasn’t exactly how Cass had imagined the evening going at all. She’d been thinking more in terms of a DVD, a bottle of wine and a takeaway, along with a bit of girlie chat, while the cat and dog mugged them for prawns.
Cass had known Fiona since they were eleven years old, and at school together—which in some ways felt like yesterday and in others a lifetime ago. After sixth form they had drifted apart, separated by college, boys, careers. And then a couple of years ago, Cass had had a phone call out of the blue:
