Oh Crumbs Read online

  About the Book

  Oh Crumbs

  Kathryn Freeman

  Sometimes life just takes the biscuit …

  Abby Spencer knows she can come across as an airhead – she talks too much and is a bit of a klutz – but there’s more to her than that. Though she sacrificed her career to help raise her sisters, a job interview at biscuit company Crumbs could finally be her chance to shine. That’s until she hurries in late wearing a shirt covered in rusk crumbs, courtesy of her baby nephew, and trips over her handbag.

  Managing director Douglas Faulkner isn’t sure what to make of Abby Spencer with her Bambi eyes, tousled hair and ability to say more in the half-hour interview than he manages in a day. All he knows is she’s a breath of fresh air and could bring a new lease of life to the stale corporate world of Crumbs. To his life too, if he’d let her.

  But Doug’s harbouring a secret. He’s not the man she thinks he is.

  Where heroes are like chocolate – irresistible!

  www.choc-lit.com

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Epilogue

  Thank You

  About the Author

  More Choc Lit

  Introducing Choc Lit

  Preview of Too Damn Nice by Kathryn Freeman

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright information

  Prologue

  Twelve Years Ago

  Abby clung onto her baby sister who was wriggling in her arms, trying to get down. Ellie didn’t understand that she was supposed to be quiet; she was only one. But still, Abby didn’t like it that Ellie was starting to make a noise and kick her feet. They were in a church, after all, and the priest was talking while everyone bowed their heads – a sea of black. Black suits, black coats, black hats. Outside there had even been black clouds. Abby hated black. She liked pink best, but she was told she couldn’t wear pink today. Not at Mum’s funeral. Abby had wanted to disagree – her mum would have let her wear pink, she was sure – but for once she’d kept quiet. A pity Ellie wasn’t doing the same.

  ‘Here, I’ll take her. You look after the others.’ Her dad leant across and pulled Ellie out of her arms. Sagging with relief – Ellie was quite heavy these days – thirteen-year-old Abby reached for the hands of her second and third youngest sisters, Holly who was three and Sally who was five. There was also Mandy, nearly nine, but she was too grown up to hold hands.

  The priest droned on and even though it was her mum’s funeral, Abby wasn’t listening. The words were funny – and not in a make you laugh kind of way. Why didn’t the priest use words they could understand? And anyway, none of it would bring Mum back, would it? Unless she believed all that stuff about heaven. Abby wanted to, but she couldn’t see how that worked. She’d seen her mum take her last breath. Watched her face go deathly pale and her body still. Now she was in the coffin in front of them. How could she get from there and up to heaven? And even if she did, how could she come back down to see them?

  At the thought of never seeing her mum again Abby started to cry. As the tears slid down her cheeks, Holly tugged at her hand.

  ‘Need to pee. Where’s Mum?’

  Abby smothered a sob. ‘Can’t you hang on a minute?’

  Holly shook her head, ringlets bouncing round her pretty face.

  ‘Okay.’ She prodded Mandy. ‘Hold Sally’s hand for me. I need to take Holly out for a pee.’

  Mandy gave her the look. It meant she was cross, though Abby didn’t give a flying fig. She had enough on her plate. Ducking down she dragged Holly up the aisle, uncomfortably aware of heads turning to stare as they shuffled past. Once outside she pulled her sister round to the side of the church, behind a bush.

  Holly pouted. ‘I want a toilet.’

  ‘I don’t know where they are. Just pull your pants down and do it here.’ She wasn’t sure if it was okay to pee in the grounds of the church but if there was a God, and if he was as good as people said, surely he wouldn’t mind. It was God’s fault they were here, anyway. He’d taken their mum away when he shouldn’t have done. Mums didn’t die when they still had children to look after. Mums hung around and became grandmums. So why had God decided to take her mum away? It wasn’t fair.

  ‘They’re wet now.’

  Abby glanced down to find Holly had managed to aim most of her pee into her pants. Guiltily she kissed her cheek. ‘Sorry, I should have helped you. Here, let’s take them off and bin them. That way you won’t smell.’

  ‘But I want my pants,’ wailed Holly, her cheeks going pink. A sure sign she was going to start stomping her feet soon.

  Abby felt like joining in. She didn’t want to be in this graveyard, sorting out her sister’s smelly wet pants. She didn’t want to be inside the church either, hearing stuff about how great her mum was. She knew that already. What she really wanted was for her mum to come and put her arms around her and tell her everything was going to be all right.

  But she’d never feel her mum’s arms around her again.

  Tears began to pour out of her eyes and Abby wiped them savagely with her hand.

  Holly stared at her, her eyes growing round. ‘Take pants off now. Smelly.’ She held her nose and gave her a toothy grin.

  The sight made Abby’s tears fall faster, though at least this time she was laughing, too.

  By the time she’d sorted Holly out, people were coming out of the church and her mum was being carried in the coffin to a big black car. Abby knew what was going to happen next, because her dad had told her. Her mum was going to be burnt. They called it cremated, but they meant burnt.

  She clutched at her stomach, suddenly feeling very sick. Grabbing Holly’s arm she pulled her out of the way and puked into the same bush.

  ‘Abby?’ Holly stared at her with wide, frightened eyes, tears once more slipping down her cheeks.

  Quickly Abby wiped her mouth and plastered on a smile. ‘Come on. Let’s go and find Dad.’

  The service at the crematorium was over quickly and Abby tried not to look at the coffin as it went behind the curtains. Instead she fussed over Ellie and Holly, while her dad stared straight ahead, tears rolling down his face.

  Next it was back to their house where Dad had paid some people to make sandwiches and tea. Abby tried to help serve it out but after she’d dropped a second plate of food, sending shattered crockery flying across the kitchen tiles, her dad told her not to worry and to look after her sisters instead.

  ‘Ellie stinks.’ Mandy held her nose and nodded down at their baby sister, who gave them both a toothy grin.

  ‘You could change her.’ Abby knew their mum had sho
wn Mandy how to do it.

  ‘No way. You’re the oldest. That’s your job.’

  Mandy flounced off and Abby sighed, picking Ellie up. ‘Come on then, smelly pants.’

  Holly, who was standing next to her, pushed out her bottom lip. ‘Holly not got smelly pants. Abby took them.’

  ‘I know. This time it’s Ellie who’s smelly.’

  Holly started to giggle. ‘Smelly Ellie.’

  ‘That’s right. Come on, let’s go and change her. Where’s Sally?’

  Holly pointed to the kitchen, where Sally had pushed a chair up to the sink and was rubbing a cloth over her skirt, tears running down her face.

  Shifting Ellie onto her hip, and taking Holly’s hand, Abby walked over. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’ve spilt something on my dress and it won’t come off.’

  Abby peered at where Sally was pointing. All she could see was wet. ‘It’s gone.’

  ‘No. It’s dirty.’

  ‘Well, I’ll come back and help you when I’ve changed Ellie’s nappy.’

  As she made her way up the stairs to the bathroom, Abby decided she’d rather have served out the sandwiches.

  Eventually the last of the guests left and the house fell eerily quiet. It was a horrid, sad silence which made Abby want to cry because it didn’t feel like home. That was always noisy.

  ‘Come on, Holly. You can have a bath with Ellie. And Sally, you come too. You can help me and then go in after.’ She picked Ellie out of her playpen and started to walk towards the stairs. ‘We’re going to play a game. Let’s see who can make the most noise.’

  Holly and Sally immediately scampered up the stairs, shouting at the top of their voices and Abby smiled to herself.

  The bath time routine was one she’d perfected over the last few months, since Mum’s cancer had made her so ill she hadn’t been able to help much. Her dad had taken care of her mum and Abby had looked after her sisters and the house. She didn’t mind the cooking. What she hated was cleaning and sorting out washing. Dad tried to help but he worked a lot, fixing other people’s cars. Plus he wasn’t very good in the kitchen.

  When all her young sisters were washed and in bed, Abby went back downstairs to the living room where she found her dad sitting in his chair, head in his hands. He’d been doing that a lot recently and the sight made her heart hurt. He looked older than her friends’ dads now, his hair greyer, his face more creased.

  ‘Dad?’

  Immediately he sat up. ‘Hello, sunshine. Are the girls in bed?’

  ‘All except Mandy who’s having a bath.’

  He smiled, though it wasn’t the smile she liked, the one that made his eyes crinkle and showed his teeth. This was a sad smile, the only type he seemed to give her nowadays. ‘You’re such a treasure, Abby, thank you.’ He motioned for her to come and sit, so she slid in beside him, even though there wasn’t much room. When she was smaller she’d easily been able to squeeze beside him on his big armchair. Now it was a tight fit because she’d grown upwards and he’d grown outwards a bit. Still, it felt nice to have his arms around her.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve not been much help over the last few months,’ he told her, stroking her hair, which Abby liked even though sometimes his fingers got caught in her curls. ‘I’ll try to be better, but the garage takes up so much time.’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  He kissed her forehead. ‘It’s not really okay. A girl your age shouldn’t be looking after her sisters and taking care of household chores. You should be out enjoying yourself. It’s a shame we don’t have any close family to help out. I’d like to get a cleaner but I’m afraid we can’t afford it at the moment.’

  Abby knew money was always tight. It didn’t seem fair, Dad worked really hard, harder than a lot of her friends’ dads, but they never seemed to have much money. ‘I can get the others to help. Sally keeps her side of the bedroom neat so she could be in charge of tidying up. Ellie’s too young, but Holly always wants to use the toy dustpan and brush she got at Christmas.’

  ‘Holly’s three, Abby. Last time I watched her, she emptied what she’d brushed up onto the sofa.’

  ‘I can teach her where to put it. Mandy can fold up the laundry.’ Abby frowned. ‘But you’d have to ask her, ’cos she doesn’t listen to me.’

  ‘I’m not sure Mandy listens to anyone. Not even her teachers.’ He gave Abby’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. ‘We’ll see how we get on. You never know, the garage might pick up and then we can hire someone to do the cleaning and laundry.’

  ‘And a cook?’

  Again he gave her that half smile. ‘Yeah, that’d be a treat, wouldn’t it? But you’re doing great. Really great.’

  ‘I’m learning it at school, so it’s fun to try stuff out at home.’ Well, it would be if she didn’t have to do it every day. At the weekends her dad helped out though, so really it was only five days a week she had to cook. ‘Ellie’s stuff is the hardest. She likes sloppy food or things she can eat with her fingers. Mum taught me.’

  Suddenly the tears she’d been saving up for most of the day burst out of her and Abby couldn’t stop herself. She cried and cried, big blubbery sobs. She hugged her dad tight and he hugged her back. She wasn’t certain, but she thought he was crying, too.

  ‘We’ll get through this, sunshine,’ her dad said after a while. ‘Spencers are tough. If we stick together, we can get through anything. Even life without your mum.’

  His voice cracked as he said the last words and Abby thought he was trying to convince himself, as well as her. ‘Mum told me to always remember that the Spencer girls could do anything they wanted, if they put their mind to it. I’m to tell my sisters that, when they get older.’

  She felt him kiss the top of her head. ‘Aye, they can. You each have a bit of Mum inside you, and that makes you all very special.’

  His chest shuddered, and this time Abby knew for certain her dad was crying.

  It made her start to cry again, too.

  Six Years Ago

  Abby tried not to make a noise as she snuck into the house. She wasn’t drunk – not very, anyway. She’d only managed a few of bottles of those sickly fruity drinks with vodka in them. Three at the most – or maybe it was four? Whatever, she still knew what she was doing, even if she wasn’t totally stable on her feet.

  ‘Bugger.’ She winced as she banged into the leg of a kitchen chair.

  ‘We aren’t meant to swear, and bugger counts as a swear word.’

  Abby’s head shot round to see who was talking, which was a flipping big mistake because now the whole room was spinning. ‘Oh God,’ she groaned, holding her stomach as she ran to the kitchen sink.

  ‘That’s disgusting. I’m going to tell Dad.’

  When she’d finished retching, Abby rinsed her mouth out and turned to face her sister, Mandy. ‘Don’t you dare. If you do, I’ll tell him what I’ve seen you getting up to round the back of the school.’

  Mandy shrugged. ‘So, I like kissing boys. It’s not a crime.’

  ‘It is if you let them do more than kiss you.’ Abby shook her head at her. ‘You’re only fourteen, Mandy. Plenty of time for all that when you’re older.’

  ‘What, old like you? Old enough to go to a pub, come home pissed and puke in the sink?’

  Okay, so she wasn’t setting a very good example tonight, but Abby was fed up with having to be the responsible one. She was only eighteen, for God’s sake. Why couldn’t she have a few drinks and a laugh with her friends? Especially as those friends were going to be escaping soon and all Abby had to look forward to was … what exactly? More of the crappy same. Looking after the house and her sisters. In fact it was worse, because this time she’d be doing it after a day at work instead of at school.

  ‘I was having a last drink with my friends before they go to uni.’ Abby filled a glass of water and sat down, hoping it would stop the room from moving quite so much. ‘Anyway, what are you doing up? It’s past midnight.’

  ‘If you�
��re allowed to stay up, so should I.’

  ‘I’m four years older than you.’ She willed the thump in her head to calm down a bit. ‘Does Dad know you’re not in bed?’

  ‘He doesn’t care.’

  Abby glared at her. ‘You know that’s not true.’

  ‘Isn’t it? He spends more time in his garage than he does at home with us. I reckon he loves it more.’

  ‘He’s not there because he wants to be, Mandy.’ Though in the early days after their mum had died, it had felt that way.

  ‘You’re always banging on at me to help you. Why don’t you tell him to come home earlier instead? He’s the parent. He should be doing the stuff around the house. Not making the kids do it.’

  ‘He tries to, but you know how clueless he is.’ Abby smiled fondly as she remembered all the times the smoke alarm had gone off in the kitchen over the last few years thanks to his efforts at cooking. ‘Do you know how your school shirts ended up grey last week? It’s because he did the washing. He shoved his black T-shirt in at the last minute, forgetting everything else he’d put in was white.’

  Mandy rolled her eyes. ‘Plonker.’

  ‘Yep, but a hard working one. He stays late at the garage because we need the money, Mandy. It’s only fair that his daughters try to make life easy for him when he comes home.’

  ‘You’ll be earning money soon, when you start work.’

  Yeah, lucky her. Abby sighed and put her head in her hands. Sometimes life really sucked.

  When she’d done her minute of feeling sorry for herself she glanced up, only to find Mandy’s dark Spencer brown eyes staring at her.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Aren’t you looking forward to going to work?’

  Abby tried to smile, but she could feel tears welling in her eyes. ‘Not especially.’

  ‘Would you rather be going to university, like your mates?’

  ‘It would have been nice, yes.’

  ‘So why don’t you?’

  Abby bit down on the hysterical laughter threatening to escape. Mandy had no flaming clue how her clothes were washed, her tea made. How food appeared in the fridge. ‘If I went away, who’d look after you and your sisters?’