Alison walked back to the car in a daze. What possible reason could Pete have for transferring their joint funds? She wracked her brain. He didn’t spend money on expensive hobbies, or clothes – it just didn’t make any sense. The rain had eased off, but the wind slowed her progress and made the walk feel longer than usual. She shut the car door and put on the heating, waiting for the windscreen to clear. Business had been good this spring. The sunny days had brought shoppers out to browse the high street, and her clients were putting in reorders every couple of days.
The windows were starting to clear now, and as she thought back to the unopened envelopes on the hall dresser – Good Energy, Virgin Media, the water board – so too did her mind. Handling the bills had always been Pete’s thing – he’d dealt with the finances and she’d done most of the cooking, it had been the way their domestic set-up had functioned for years. But with Pete’s redundancy, both of their roles had changed. What with everything that had been going on with the girls, and taking care of her mum, the truth of the matter was that she hadn’t been keeping track of their spending, and if what the bank manager said was correct, neither had Pete. There might not have even been a transfer. The reality of the situation started to dawn on her. Their money could have, quite simply, slipped away.
She switched on the radio – it was playing the Commodores’ ‘Easy’. She switched it off again. She leaned the side of her head against the car window and rested there a moment. Her plans with Jamie suddenly seemed a world away.
Chapter 14
Jenny
‘What about this?’ Chloe asked, putting on a cream birdcage veil, studded with pearls.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ I said, looking at the way her dark ringlets set it off. I reached out to touch the delicate netting. The lady running the stall, who had a distractingly generous, hoiked-up bosom, smiled in agreement. Chloe passed the veil over to me and I held it up against my own hair and looked in the little mirror hung up in front of us. ‘Pretty,’ I said. I looked like a proper bride with the net falling over my face. The detailing lifted it and it was clear it was the genuine article. ‘Original 1930s that one,’ the lady confirmed, before turning to deal with a customer who was trying to force her large feet into some delicate T-bar shoes.
‘I’m not sure if I want a veil though …’ I said, hanging it back up on the hook a little reluctantly. ‘Is it really me?’ Chloe tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at me a little. ‘Come on,’ I protested. ‘It’s the first stall we’ve stopped at, Chloe,’ I said, defending myself. ‘Give me a chance.’
‘Would a glass of champagne help?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ I replied. It would knock some of my retail hesitation on the head, that was for sure. ‘Wedding dress shopping while drunk,’ I said, laughing, ‘what could possibly go wrong?’
Champagne glasses in hand, we looked out over the vintage fair in the arches of the old Charlesworth railway station. It was just as Chloe had described it, stalls stacked with period wedding dresses, fascinators, handbags and jewellery. When Dan and I first got engaged, I’d dragged Chloe up to London and together we’d schlepped around the shops where patronising shop assistants had shown us endless wedding dresses that were far too flouncy and not my kind of thing at all. I’d ended up a sweaty grumpy mess with nothing to show for our train fares and the day we’d spent looking. So I was grateful to Chloe for bringing me here to the vintage fair. I could already see that the clothes were much more my style, and the pressure was off, without fake-tanned saleswomen insisting that this diamante bodice or that long net trail would look ‘to die for’ on me.
‘Have you and Dan thought about your first dance yet?’ Chloe asked, taking a sip of the fizz. ‘Because if you haven’t, I’ve had a few ideas,’ she said, breathlessly. ‘I think the—’
‘Nope,’ I said, holding up my hand and laughing, knowing already what she was about to say. ‘Stop right there, Chlo.’ I shook my head. ‘Not the Dirty Dancing routine that couple did on YouTube. Don’t even think it.’
‘But …’ she gazed at me imploringly, not believing that she was already beaten on this one.
‘No routines.’ I was resolute but still felt guilty for crushing her vision. ‘But we have got the playlist down to perfection,’ I said. Dan and I had been dancing around the living room the last few evenings, putting on our favourite tracks in turn and fighting our corner to have them added to the DJ set. We each got two chances to veto tunes – I’d said no to Slipknot already, and Dan had put the kibosh on Lady Gaga, despite my desperate pleas. ‘It’s all pretty much sorted, apart from Chris finalising the songs that he wants to play in his set.’
‘But it’s never too late to change your mind,’ Chloe insisted. I raised an eyebrow questioningly. ‘About your first dance, I mean.’ Chloe stepped away from the bar and slipped an arm around my waist, whispering in my ear ‘I’ve had…’ She put her champagne flute down and put her other arm around me, ‘… the time of my liiiiife,’ she crooned in my ear. I felt her grip on me tighten.
‘Not the lift! NOT the lift,’ I shouted, wheezing with laughter now as I felt my feet leave the ground and managed to wriggle free of her grasp.
By two in the afternoon, fortified by a mixture of fizz and Chloe’s enthusiastic guidance, I had found the perfect dress. When I turned to look at myself in the makeshift changing room, I knew right away that it was a dress like no other.
It was a full-skirted fifties number, with a delicate sweetheart neckline cut from the lace top and tiny sleeves that brushed my shoulders, just covering them. As I swooshed from side to side the full thick petticoat followed me in a delayed response. I opened the curtain just a crack and peeped out at Chloe, who was biting into a handmade brownie. ‘Are you ready?’ I asked her. ‘I actually think this might be the one, you know.’
‘Really?’ she asked, her face lighting up, brownie crumbs on her chin. ‘Well get your bridey butt out here then and let me have a look.’ She took another bite in an attempt at damage-limitation as the brownie started to break into bits.
I stepped past the curtain and took a barefoot step towards her, trying to ensure the skirt didn’t knock anything on the nearby table flying.
The moment I saw Chloe’s eyes water and a flush spring to her cheeks, I know I was right. ‘This is it, isn’t it?’ I said, looking for confirmation and wrinkling my nose a little.
‘Mmm-hmm,’ she agreed, her mouth full of brownie. Even when she’d swallowed it, though, she didn’t say a word. This dress was actually silencing Chloe. We both stood dumbly where we were for a moment.
‘You know you have to buy it,’ she said, finally.
‘I know.’
She reached behind me and pulled out the price tag. She wolf-whistled and shook her head.
‘We’ll find a way,’ I said, with a shrug. Really, it was no longer a choice. I was in love.
Chapter 15
Alison
Alison and Pete were sitting at their kitchen table, with the financial paperwork for the past few months laid out between them. Their latest online bank statement was open on Pete’s laptop screen.
‘We’re in a mess, aren’t we?’ Alison said, looking at the evidence surrounding them.
They’d spent the morning going through their bank statements, slowly, methodically, until they’d accounted for the whole of Pete’s missing redundancy payment. Alison’s suspicions had proven to be correct – the money had simply slipped through their fingers, unaccounted for. Pete admitted that when the lump sum first came through he’d decided to pay off their credit card bills, and he hadn’t let Alison know. Neither of them had been keeping track.
‘We’ll sort it out,’ said Pete, quietly.
‘But look at this,’ Alison said, holding up an old British Gas invoice. ‘We’ve buried our heads in the sand for too long already: replacing the boiler, servicing two cars, George’s vet bills, covering Holly’s stealing – money was disappearing all the time and we didn’t even realise.
’
‘And these?’ She sifted through the papers and pulled out two red bill reminders. ‘This is really serious, Pete. It looks like we’re going to be late on our mortgage repayments this month – and we haven’t even got enough cash left to cover all of the bills.’
‘It’s not looking great, is it?’ Pete conceded reluctantly.
‘I don’t get it, Pete,’ Alison said, frustration creeping into her voice. ‘You must have realised something was going wrong. I know it’s a joint responsibility, but you’ve always handled the household stuff. I just wish you’d said something … not buried your head in the sand.’
‘Buried my head in the sand?’ Pete said, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. ‘I’ve had a lot on my mind, Ali. And anyway, since I do most of the cooking and cleaning now, I thought you might be keeping more of an eye on the bills. Or am I supposed to do all that, as well as find a new job?’ Pete stopped himself and took a deep breath. ‘Look, we’ll find a way to fix this … get a loan or—’
‘Like I got a loan for the café, you mean? Oh yes, that’ll be no problem,’ Alison said, only realising once the words were out how bitter they sounded. Tears began to well up but she fought them back. ‘Do you understand what this could mean for us, Pete?’
Pete raised a hand to his forehead. ‘Yes,’ he said, but it was as if he was trying to block out her words.
‘If we don’t do something soon we could lose this house.’ Alison sat back in her chair.
Pete remained silent, wearily shaking his head. ‘That won’t happen,’ he said finally.
‘Really?’ Alison said. ‘Pete, it’s happening to people every day. Things were tough when my shop went bust, but it was never as bad as this. We could lose the place we worked so hard to buy, the only home the girls have known.’ Alison looked around their kitchen, the hub of their home, and then back at her husband, whose eyes were glazed. ‘Are you even listening to me, Pete? It’s happening again, isn’t it?’
Memories of their younger selves came back to Alison in sharp relief. ‘You said back then that I didn’t need to finish my A-levels, that your band was going to be famous. And what happened? Nothing, Pete. We ended up living in that grotty caravan, with barely enough money for food. While my friends were at university, studying and having a great time, I was waitressing and scraping together the money for you to pursue your rock star dreams. Do you remember what it was like?’
Pete’s eyes were cast down.
‘We had nothing. You were rehearsing while I had to work all hours so that we didn’t have to go crawling back to our parents with our tails between our legs.’ Alison remembered those days as vividly as if she’d just lived them.
‘You promised me all those years ago that everything would be all right – and you know what, Pete? It wasn’t.’
Chapter 16
Maggie
Maggie had popped out to get muffins for herself and Anna. She was standing in line at the bakery looking at a picture message of Jenny’s wedding dress when a text arrived:
M. I can’t stop thinking about you. I know there’s still more to talk about, but come to dinner with me and we can start? Dx
In spite of herself, she felt a rush of excitement as she read it. She’d wait to answer, though. Her head wasn’t clear. She’d give it a few hours, at least. Dylan wasn’t forgiven yet, she reminded herself. Not for a single thing.
‘One blueberry muffin and one chocolate, please,’ Maggie said to the girl behind the counter, realising she had reached the front of the queue. She wanted to get Anna a little treat to thank her. When she’d got back to the shop on Tuesday after her day in London, she had found everything in perfect order; Anna had processed all the deliveries efficiently and the floor and display were spotless.
‘Coffee with that?’ the girl asked.
‘No, just the muffins, thanks.’
Maggie took the paper bag and went back to the shop where Anna was helping an older man pick out some flowers. Today, with the rain, customers had been few and far between. This man was in a green mac, grey hair back in a ponytail but balding on top.
‘I had no idea it was our anniversary until I got the call just now,’ he said, flustered. ‘I mean, how do you women remember these things?’
Anna smiled reassuringly.
‘Christine said before that it didn’t matter – it’s second time round for us both you see – and she’d rather I surprised her on a different day. But then her friend Eve called to say that Christine was crushed. How can I possibly win?’ He tapped his head with the palm of his hand in frustration. ‘Eve said I’d better put things right, and soon. Please say you can help me.’ There was a look of sheer desperation on his face.
‘Of course we can,’ Anna said, motioning for him to come and take a closer look at the stock. ‘Let’s go all out, I reckon, but stick with the classics. Some dark red roses, like these ones, a big bunch – if that’s OK for your budget I mean?’
He nodded. It seemed unlikely he would turn anything down at this point.
‘With some baby’s breath in there too.’ She picked up a few stems to show him. ‘We’ll wrap it up beautifully for you, Mr … er?’
‘Edmonds,’ he said.
‘Mr Edmonds. And how about we deliver them to your wife at work rather than you giving them to her at home? That way she’s not waiting a moment longer than she has to.’
The colour was slowly returning to the man’s cheeks. Maggie stood a little closer to Anna and the new customer, and the man looked startled. He had been so deep in thought he hadn’t even seen her come in.
‘Good idea, Anna,’ Maggie cut in. ‘I could call up your wife, sir, and say we’re sorry for the late delivery.’ She tilted her head slightly. ‘What if our stockroom had been flooded this morning and all of our deliveries set back a few hours? That sounds about right.’
The man was visibly relieved. ‘Oh yes,’ he said, ‘if you’re sure you don’t mind … what a very kind offer.’
‘No problem at all,’ Maggie said. ‘I’ll leave you in Anna’s capable hands, just give her your wife’s contact details and we’ll get onto it right away.’ Maggie could feel Anna’s eyes on her, questioning, as she went into the back room.
The moment the door was closed, Maggie got her BlackBerry out again. She’d waited long enough, hadn’t she? She texted Dylan.
OK, then. Where? I finish work at 6 pm
She pressed send and then immediately kicked herself for not waiting longer. What was she, fifteen years old? But Dylan’s answer came in a flash, which helped.
Down in Brighton on a shoot. Come and meet me? Seafood and fizz at that little place in the lanes at 8?
Maggie took a deep breath.
Fine. See you there. M
She came back out into the shop. Anna was on her own by the till. She turned her head and asked, ‘Maggie, just to check, are you sure you want me to call that customer’s wife? You’re always saying our delivery times are what sets us apart, that it affects the brand if …’ Maggie paused, hmm, that did sound familiar.
‘You know what, one customer’s not going to make a difference,’ Maggie said, as she rearranged plants on a shelf.
‘Hang on, Maggie, you were nice to him because he was trying to be romantic, weren’t you?’ Anna smiled like she’d just solved a puzzle.
‘Maybe,’ Maggie said, not giving anything away. ‘I can’t bear the thought of her being cross with that poor man, can you?’
When the shop bell jangled an hour after the lunchtime rush Maggie looked up without thinking. She smiled when she saw Jenny, smart in a charcoal trouser suit and a crisp white shirt.
‘Hello,’ Jenny said with a smile. She nodded at the clock. ‘My boss is away,’ she added by way of explanation for the late lunch hour. ‘Any chance you’ve got a minute to talk through the plans for my wedding flowers?’
‘Yes, sure,’ Maggie said, pulling a couple of stools up to the counter. ‘It would be a pleasure.’ She turned toward
s her assistant. ‘Anna, would you mind putting a pot of tea on for us?’ Anna nodded and walked towards the back room. Maggie went on, ‘And then do you want to join our meeting? I’d love to get your input.’ Anna turned around, her eyes lit up.
‘She’s a quick learner,’ Maggie said quietly to Jenny as they heard the kettle go on, ‘and weddings are her favourite.’
Jenny smiled and went to get her notebook out of her bag. ‘Sure, it would be nice to hear what she thinks,’ she said.
‘But first, while I have you to myself,’ Jenny said, fixing her wide hazel eyes on Maggie’s, and lowering her voice, ‘I’m going to need a full update. How did it go with Dylan?’
Maggie liked the sea-spray taste of oysters, and the ones here were the best. She prised one loose with her fork and swallowed it, before taking a sip of the champagne Dylan had ordered.
When she’d arrived at the restaurant just before eight he was already there waiting at a little table in the corner.
‘Maggie, it’s so good to see you. You look beautiful.’ He stood back, admiring her.
She’d put on a slate grey silk dress for dinner and tied her hair up loosely, so that strands framed her face and fell gently onto her shoulders. Her make-up brought out the green in her eyes and silver drop earrings hung down almost to her shoulders.
‘Ah, the old Dylan Leonard charm,’ Maggie said, with a smile. ‘I bet the women you were photographing today heard the very same thing.’ She pulled out her chair and sat down.
‘Not really, no,’ he laughed. ‘Actually I was doing a fashion shoot for Attitude magazine today, and the male models were pretty confident already.’
They’d sat down and looked at the menu, ordering up oysters, crab and lobster and a few sides, talking about Maggie’s day while they waited for the food to arrive.
The Vintage Teacup Club Page 10