Read Katy Carter Keeps a Secret for Free Online Page B

looks at me aghast. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”
    I try to say something but all I do is make a feeble little squeak because there’s a lump in my throat so huge it makes the risotto look smooth.
    “I knew Valentine’s Day was coming up and I meant to do something,” Ol continues, looking absolutely mortified, “honestly I did, baby, but I’ve just been so busy. We had a massive meeting after school about Progress 8 and the new GCSE bandings, and I had to make sure my analysis of the Key Stage 2 data was spot on for Carolyn’s presentation, otherwise come three years’ time our value added will be a negative residual and we’re all screwed.”
    I stare at him. Firstly, because I have no idea what on earth he’s talking about, secondly because who gives a toss about what might happen three years away, and thirdly because he’s mentioned Carolyn. Steph’s comment earlier today about male staff enjoying the “Miles High Club” has triggered such a big red alert in my brain I can almost hear the claxons sounding.
    Ollie’s forgotten Valentine’s Day because he’s been working on a presentation with Carolyn Miles?
    Seriously?
    “You were at a meeting?” I ask, and Ollie nods wearily.
    “Of course I was. I always have a middle leaders’ meeting on Tuesdays. This was a long one too; I think the dog sitter thought I’d abandoned Sasha. I’m sorry to be back so late, Katy, and even sorrier I forgot it’s Valentine’s Day.”
    He puts his glasses on the kitchen table, pushing aside a pile of plates I plonked there earlier while emptying the dresser in my ring search, and grinds his knuckles into his eyes. He looks absolutely exhausted and I notice just how pale he is and how deep the shadows are under his eyes. He’s working far too hard in this new job and I wish with all my heart that he didn’t have to. Suddenly Valentine’s Day doesn’t matter half as much as it did.
    “It’s OK, Ol,” I say, stepping forward and hugging him. “It doesn’t matter. I only remembered at lunchtime myself.”
    Ollie pulls an outraged face. “I see. So you don’t love me anymore?”
    “How can you say that when I’ve made you dinner?”
    He drops a weary kiss onto the top of my head. “Is that the dinner I can smell burning?”
    We both look at the risotto pan. A plume of black smoke is starting to rise and with a shriek I dash forward to snatch the saucepan from the hotplate and plunge it into the sink. There’s a sizzle and a hiss and then – voila! I have made risotto soup.
    Ollie’s laughing so hard that tears are running down his cheeks.
    “I do love you, Katy Carter,” he gasps. “Don’t ever change, will you?”
    I look around at our kitchen – with the cupboard doors open, contents strewn all over the place and yet another ruined saucepan languishing in the sink – and feel very lucky that he loves me just the way I am because, to be quite honest, I don’t think I can change. I’m a disaster zone. A lesser man would have given up years ago.
    “I don’t think I could handle living with a normal woman,” Ollie adds, and I dig him in the ribs before kissing him. His lips taste of the cold air outside and I pull him closer, thinking that maybe burning the dinner was a blessing in disguise and there are far more interesting things to do than eat dinner. And we still have the chocolate mousse too…
    But I’m not the only person thinking about food; at this point Sasha bounds into the kitchen, tongue lolling and gazing beseechingly up at us with big brown eyes, which is Red Setter for please feed me. Since we both know from bitter experience that a hungry Sasha is likely to chew her way through coursework folders/important documents/Ollie’s most expensive wetsuit, any hopes of passion are hastily put aside for the very important job of filling her bowl.
    “Why were you rummaging through the cupboards anyway?” Ollie asks me as he hunts for the dog food. He’s looking totally