Wonder Women

by Fiore, Rosie

  She sat on the bed in her impersonal business hotel room, her mobile in her hand. It was late, nearly midnight. Was it too late to ring him? What if he was asleep? Or not asleep, but with someone? That would be awful. She’d text first. Tentatively she typed ‘Awake?’ and sent it. No going back now. Her phone rang immediately.

  ‘I am now.’ His voice sounded soft and warm, as if he was in bed.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’

  ‘I’m teasing. You didn’t. I was reading. Everything okay?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. I’m in Newcastle with the show.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said, and waited. There was a long pause.

  Jo took a deep breath. ‘So, Lee …’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I didn’t just ring to chat. I wanted to talk to you about the other night.’

  ‘At Sadler’s Wells?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Damn. Why had she not written down what she wanted to say? How was she to do this? She was afraid. But Lee gave her the perfect cue.

  ‘You looked very, very lovely that night. Breathtaking.’

  ‘Thank you. The thing is … I didn’t look like that by accident.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ His voice was quiet. This was it, the moment where she changed their relationship forever. But from his serious tone, she was pretty sure he knew what she was going to say.

  ‘I wanted to look good … not because it was a work do. I wanted to look beautiful … for you. You see, Lee, I think—’

  ‘Jo, can I stop you?’

  Oh God. He didn’t want to hear it. This was awful. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them, clutching her mobile to her ear.

  But he went on. ‘If you’re about to say what I think you’re going to say, will you do me a favour?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered hoarsely.

  ‘Will you let me say it first? I think I’ve been waiting to say it for longer than you.’

  The pause this time was delicious. Lee’s voice cracked as he spoke. ‘The thing is, Joanna Lesley Morris, I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you at that party in New Cross.’

  ‘I love you too, Lee.’ Jo found herself laughing, although she was also inexplicably crying, great tears rolling down her face.

  ‘I’m so, so glad,’ said Lee, and he laughed too, a delighted, loud, happy laugh. ‘I can’t believe we finally got there. It seemed to me that somehow it’s just never been our time. First you went off with that Adrian wanker …’

  ‘Wanker? He’s your mate!’

  ‘And a wanker. Come on, we all know it – we can admit it after all these years. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Adrian. I want to say that you’ve always been the most beautiful, challenging, clever, creative, exciting and damned sexy woman I’ve ever known. But once we’d moved into the friend zone, there just didn’t seem a way out.’

  ‘I know. That’s what’s been killing me. I was so scared that if I said something, I would lose you.’

  ‘Let me tell you something, my love,’ said Lee firmly, and she let out an involuntary sob hearing him say ‘my love’, ‘you are never going to lose me. Never ever, for the rest of our lives – not if I have anything to do with it.’

  They talked for four straight hours. It seemed the easiest thing in the world to use words of love with Lee, as if they had always talked to each other that way. He shared memory after memory of times he had wanted to tell her how he felt, times he had wanted to make a move but had been too afraid. She told him about the night with Hannah, when she’d seen him differently for the first time.

  ‘Ah, Hannah,’ said Lee, his voice troubled.

  ‘That was serious, wasn’t it?’ Jo said. ‘Much more serious than any relationship I ever had.’

  ‘Hannah is an amazing woman, and I tried, I did. But …’

  ‘But?’

  ‘If I say this, you’re not allowed to freak out, okay?’

  ‘It’s three a.m., I haven’t slept for twenty-one hours and I’ve just declared my love for my best friend. I’m way beyond freaking out.’

  ‘I never told you why Hannah and I broke up.’

  ‘Okay, why?’

  ‘It was a classic late-twenties thing. She came to me and said she wanted to have a baby, and I told her I didn’t want to. She asked me if I wanted to wait, and if so for how long, and I had to tell her I didn’t want to have a baby at all. She was a year or so older, and she said if we weren’t going to have kids, she needed time to meet someone who did want them. So we split up.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Jo, not sure what to do with this information. So Lee didn’t want kids. She hadn’t really thought about children, but it seemed quite extreme to rule them out altogether before they’d even begun their relationship.

  ‘The thing is …’ said Lee, ‘and here’s the freak-out part: the truth is, I didn’t want kids with Hannah, because deep down, I knew I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life with her. But, Jo, I would love to have a baby with you.’

  They sat in silence for a while after that statement, listening to each other’s breathing. And suddenly Jo laughed. ‘Oh my God … we’re talking about making babies, and we’ve never even kissed.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Is it going to be weird? I mean, when I next see you, I suppose we’ll kiss, and then we’ll …’

  ‘Oh, I hope so.’

  ‘Me too … but it’s going to be strange. I’ve known you for ten years, and I’ve never seen you naked.’

  ‘If it helps, I’ve imagined you naked, a lot.’

  Jo looked out of the window. ‘The sun’s coming up. It must be about four … I’ll be home in twelve hours. I’ve got a few meetings here in the morning, and then I’m catching a train at noon.’

  ‘You’d better get some sleep.’

  ‘I don’t think I can sleep.’

  ‘If I have anything to do with it, you’re not going to be doing any sleeping tonight at all. So you’d better get all the rest you can between now and then, okay?’

  The next afternoon, when Jo stepped off the train at King’s Cross, Lee was standing on the platform. She walked up to him, her heart thumping. They didn’t say anything. He drew her into his arms slowly, gently, as if she was the most precious thing he had ever held and, for the very first time, they kissed.

  3

  JO AND LEE NOW

  It was a very romantic beginning, and being with Lee was everything Jo had dreamed it could be. Of course in the beginning it was heady and thrilling and they had seemingly non-stop sex, but through all of that and beyond, it was just … right. It felt right to be with him, to wake up with him, to reintroduce him to her family as her boyfriend. And one of the things she liked best was that no one was surprised. Jo and Lee had agonised over telling their friends and families, but when they did, people generally just said, ‘Ah, well, about time. We always knew you’d end up together.’

  It felt right when Lee let out his flat and moved in with her, right when they both sold their flats and bought a three-bedroomed semi in Hendon, right when Lee quietly proposed at their kitchen table one Wednesday evening while they were eating spaghetti bolognaise. They got married in the local church and had a raucous reception in the pub next door. Their honeymoon consisted of five glorious days in Barcelona. When they got home, Lee designed a script font which he called Barcelona, based on the curves of Gaudi’s art nouveau architecture. It was a bestseller for his firm and he got a bonus and a promotion to senior designer. Zach was born two years after they got married, and Imogene two years after that. The cost of childcare was iniquitous, and Lee was doing very well and could just about pay all the bills, so it made sense for Jo to take the time off to stay at home with the kids, at least until they were both in school. She’d never imagined herself as a stay-at-home mum, but she found she enjoyed it, most of the time at least.

  So six-and-a-half years after their first kiss on the platform at King’s Cross, Jo and Lee had turned a love story into a marriag
e, complete with two children, a mortgage, bills, piles of laundry and a niggling leak under the bath. Maybe it was no longer a fairy-tale romance, but Jo still felt as if she had totally won the jackpot when she got Lee.

  She wasn’t a fan of the twee names people gave to their partners: ‘ball and chain’, ‘hubby’ or whatever, but secretly, to herself, she did call Lee her ‘other half’. Because he was. He complemented her in every way. He supported her, loved and admired her and told her so all the time. He was an amazing father and a great mate, he still made her laugh, and when they could grab the time when both kids were asleep and they weren’t dizzy with exhaustion, still absolutely dynamite in bed.

  Jo loved Lee’s drawings of her dream shop. Just as he had designed sets for her theatrical productions in years gone by, he’d taken her ideas and made them visual. In doing so, he’d brought new dimensions to the concept and given Jo inspiration. As soon as she got Imogene down for a nap the next morning, she sat at her computer and wrote another three pages of ideas. But once she had done that, she sat staring at the screen for ages, her tea going cold. She had a degree in drama, a career in theatrical PR and three years as a stay-at-home parent. None of these qualified her to own or run a shop. She’d never worked in retail. The closest she’d got was working behind the bar in the Rosie, the student pub in New Cross, and even then all she’d done was pull pints and wash glasses. She didn’t even know how to cash up a till, let alone order stock, run the finances or manage staff. It was a ridiculous idea.

  She said as much when Lee came home from work that evening. ‘I haven’t a clue,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t even know where to start. It was a mad idea, and anyway, I have two children under four. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

  ‘Firstly, it’s a bloody brilliant idea,’ said Lee. ‘I knew that the moment you first mentioned it. I’ve spoken to a couple of people at work about it too, and they all think it’s inspired. And secondly, if you don’t know how to do something, you can learn. Go on a small-business course. Chat to someone at the bank. Get a life coach or whatever.’

  ‘A life coach?’

  ‘I read about them in the Metro. Probably not your thing, but you know what I mean. There are probably a million sites on the Net you could look at. The information is out there. If you really want to do this, then start looking into it. You’ve got the creative flair, there’s no doubt about that, and some relevant experience. Also, you’re a parent. You know what works for kids. That’s a whole body of knowledge too. Just go looking for help with the other stuff.’

  ‘You make it sound so simple …’ said Jo doubtfully.

  ‘The most important question is – do you really want to do this?’ said Lee. ‘Is this something you could see yourself doing for years to come? It’s miles away from PR, and it seems a long way from your dreams of acting and directing.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Jo, and she sat back and thought for a moment. ‘Jo Hockley, shop owner. Hmm. It’s odd, isn’t it? When you’re young, everything is so clear, so black and white. When I went to university, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was an Actress with a capital A. Then after a year or so, I realised it wasn’t quite that simple and I wanted to direct, and that’s what I was for a long, long time. A director. Even when I started working in PR, I was a director who did PR work to make money so I could direct. Then after a while, I suppose I became a PR person who did occasional directing, and then I jacked it all in to be a stay-at-home mother who might at some time go back to being in PR but will not be in a position to direct theatre any time in the foreseeable future.’

  ‘Wow.’ Lee smiled. ‘You’re going to struggle to fit that on a business card.’

  ‘I used to know what I was, but now I don’t. The path isn’t as simple and clear as it was when I was eighteen. Stuff changes. Children come along, and financial necessity, and limited time.’

  ‘So what are you saying?’

  ‘What I’m saying is that ten years ago I wouldn’t have dreamed of owning or running a children’s clothes shop. But now … Who knows? Maybe it’s time for something different in my life. It’s a whole new industry … but I think it could be amazing. And it might be something I could fit in around the kids, once it was off the ground. It’s not like I’m going to be staging Chekhov at the National any time soon, or pulling on my power suit and heading for a meeting in Soho.’

  ‘Well then,’ said Lee, leaning back in his chair, ‘go for it. Do the research, and I’ll help any way I can. If you need to go and meet with people, I can take time off to look after the kids, or my mum could help.’

  She started small. In the afternoons, when she had both kids, she went on a few excursions, visiting high streets in the local area, looking for possible premises. She wanted to go more upmarket than Hendon, but not as exclusive as Hampstead. Golders Green looked possible, or the Broadway in Mill Hill. Or maybe Finchley or Muswell Hill. She found herself peering through the windows of vacant shops, trying to imagine them transformed. So far she hadn’t found anything that blew her away, but she knew the space was out there somewhere.

  In the mornings, when Imogene napped, she started trawling through websites with information about starting a small business. There were hundreds. Many of them were dense and badly written, some of them just offered motivational claptrap – ‘you can acheive any thing you want to, think of your dream and you can make it a Reality’-type nonsense. But she found a few that offered useful checklists and pieces of advice. She learned about SWOT analysis and PEST analysis, and she started to draw up a spreadsheet of possible start-up costs. There were lots of gaps and many things she couldn’t begin to put numbers to, but it was a beginning.

  She particularly liked a blog by a woman entrepreneur called Louise Holmes-Harper, who wrote in an easy, witty style, and whose ideas seemed simple and practical. Best of all, Louise H-H wrote quite a lot about balancing work and childcare. There was one particularly funny post about how much a busy mum starting a business could achieve during the average toddler nap time. It struck a chord with Jo, so she commented on it, and Louise H-H sent her a warm personal message in return.

  That gave Jo courage, so she drafted an email and, after much hesitation, sent it off to the address on Louise Holmes-Harper’s website.

  Dear Louise,

  Without wanting to sound too gushy, I just wanted to say I’m a big fan of your blog and I’m finding all your advice very practical and useful. I’ve got a background in PR and marketing in the performing arts, but I’ve been out of the world of work for a few years with small children, and now I’m thinking of starting a business in a completely new field. I’m sure everyone says this, but I have an idea which my research tells me is unique and might actually succeed. I have so much to learn, and many of my questions are quite specific. For obvious reasons, I’m not all that keen to blab my ideas all over the web, so I wonder if you ever offer individual coaching or give advice?

  Best wishes,

  Jo Hockley

  She didn’t expect to hear back from Louise any time soon, but a reply came within the hour.

  Dear Jo,

  Thanks for the compliment. When you stick something up in the blogosphere, you have no idea who, if anybody, is reading it, so any feedback is encouraging (except for the spam comments I get telling me my penis needs enlarging, those are not so useful!). To be honest, I’ve never done any one-to-one coaching: I used to work as a manager in the printing industry until my son Peter was born three years ago. Then I did some ad hoc lecturing in business practices at a local college, but I’m currently pregnant with my second baby, which means my time is soon going to be even more limited. I host weekend seminars on starting a business from scratch, and there’s one coming up this weekend. I’ve just had a cancellation, so if you’re interested you can take the place. There’s a link with all the information on the blog. It’s at a venue near where I’m based in Surrey … is that any good to you? Maybe then we could talk about individual c
oaching, if you still feel you need it.

  Warmest wishes,

  Louise

  She had added a link to the page on her website which advertised the seminar. It wasn’t expensive, and it was to be held at a hotel in Kingston, easily accessible by train or road. The sessions were during the day on the Saturday and Sunday … Totally doable if Lee was happy to have the kids on his own for the whole weekend.

  She forwarded her email and Louise’s response to Lee’s work address, adding a question mark at the top. She knew he’d understand what she was asking, and sure enough, within half an hour he fired back a message saying:

  Sounds perfect, love. Go for it. Book it today. Zach, Imi and me will put you on a train and go off for adventures on the Saturday and lunch with my folks on the Sunday xx

  It was all the encouragement Jo needed, and she filled in the online form and paid for the course there and then. Once she had done so, and had looked at the programme in more detail, she started to get quite excited, and began typing up a list of questions related to each of the sessions. When she looked at the three A4 sheets she had filled, she had to laugh at herself. She was going to be that annoying swot, sitting right in the front with her hand in the air, constantly interrupting to ask more questions. Still, it was wonderful to feel stimulated again.

  *

  On Saturday, Lee drove her to the Tube station, and she kissed him goodbye. Imogene and Zach waved cheerily to her from their car seats in the back. They looked perfectly happy to be spending the day without her.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d caught a Tube without a pushchair, an excited toddler and at least two enormous bags, so it felt very odd to get on to the train with just a satchel. She took out her notes and questions and her copy of the day’s agenda, and by the time she got to Waterloo, she’d been through them ten times over. At Waterloo, she treated herself to a coffee and a magazine, and found her train to Surrey. She rang Lee, who answered his phone in a whisper.