Love, Bonnie Cartwright.
Bonnie read the letter through again and sighed deeply before screwing it up and putting it in the bin.
Just then, Linda came in wiping her hands down her tabard. ‘Ugh, just put my fingers straight through a rotten satsuma.’
Bonnie wrinkled her nose. ‘God, you can tell by the stink!’
Linda went to the tiny sink and washed her hands. ‘I know, they’re the foulest smelling things known to man. Prisoner of war – rotten orange under his nose and he’d tell you anything.’
Bonnie drank the last of her tea.
‘And Fred says you’re due back out, by the way,’ Linda added.
‘I’ll bet he does,’ Bonnie mumbled. ‘He must have a stopwatch surgically implanted in his brain, and if he doesn’t, I bet he’s after a Harley Street specialist to do it.’
Linda wiped her hands on a tatty towel. ‘Fred would never pay Harley Street prices. I’m sure he’d know some Del Boy down the pub who could smash a watch into his brain on the cheap.’
Laughing loudly, Bonnie pushed herself up from the chair and took her cup to the sink. ‘I’ll rinse this at lunch,’ she said, putting it down. ‘Right now I’d better get back out before he blows a gasket.’
‘I’ll do it for you,’ Linda said, flicking the kettle on.
‘Thanks, Linda; I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘You’d still be chasing cockroaches around the back yard for a start.’
Bonnie, still looking back and laughing, almost bumped into someone as she made her way out from the tiny kitchen into the warehouse, beyond which lay the main shop.
‘Oh God, Max, I didn’t see you there!’
‘I’m pretty hard to miss,’ Max grinned down at her. ‘All six-foot-two of me.’
‘That’s true,’ Bonnie smiled. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve got more stock to bring in, I’ve lugged enough Spanish strawberries to last me a lifetime today. And I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to reduce the buggers by the end of today, which always makes His Royal Fredness in there as grumpy as hell.’
Max pushed a hand through his wind-tousled hair. His cheeks were a little ruddy from the autumn chill. Along with his golden hair, naughty smile, and lean height, his current flush made him look like an over-grown and mischievous schoolboy. ‘I’d hate to be the cause of that. You’ve no need to worry, though; I’ve just come to drop off an invoice.’ He leaned closer and dropped his voice. ‘Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind about that drink?’
Bonnie laughed. ‘No I haven’t. I’m sure I couldn’t keep up with you.’
‘Probably not,’ he said, grinning and straightening up. ‘You are, like, a hundred years old.’
Bonnie slapped his arm. ‘That’s no way to persuade me either.’
Every week Max asked her and every week she gave the same reply. They always laughed it off. But today, Bonnie thought she caught something else in his expression, something sad. She shook the thought away. This was Max, the wise-cracking, whistling delivery driver. She didn’t think he would know sad if it slapped him in the face. Not like Bonnie, of course, she and sadness were best friends these days.
‘Linda’s on the hunt for a man,’ Bonnie said. ‘Her John is driving her mental and she’s looking for a younger model.’
Max laughed. ‘And I’m on the hunt for a woman. But much as I like Linda, there’s only one that I want.’
‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’
‘I do. Just ask in Cherry Ripe across town, they’ve all been subjected to the Delaney charm. It takes years of practise to come across this desperate.’
‘Max,’ she smiled up at him, ‘I’m sure there are girls queuing around the block for you.’
‘Queuing around the block to get away from me, more like.’
Bonnie’s reply was cut short by Fred’s sweaty face at the doorway. ‘Any chance of a hand out here?’
He disappeared again and Bonnie looked at Max, shrugging apologetically. ‘I’d better get back in. Anyone would think it was the first day of the Harrods sale in there. I bet he’s got old Mrs Simkin asking for the plums on top of the display that he can’t reach. He hates that, makes him feel all emasculated.’
Max chuckled. ‘In that case, I’ll just leave this on his desk and sneak out. I’m sure an invoice won’t improve his mood.’
‘Probably for the best,’ Bonnie said as she made her way back out to the shop. ‘See you later, Max.’
‘Yeah,’ Max replied as he watched her go. ‘See you later.’
***
Linda turned the closed sign on the shop door and locked it as Bonnie waited on the pavement. The day was cold and blustery but the late autumn sun on their backs was warm and comforting.
‘So…’ Linda asked as she and Bonnie made their way to the delicatessen down the street for lunch. ‘Did Max ask you out again?’
‘Not really.’ She looked across and caught Linda’s raised eyebrows. ‘Ok, sort of. It was a bit half-hearted though.’
‘It’s not going to be anything else if you keep saying no.’
‘I know, it just doesn’t seem like a good idea right now.’
‘You know Henri is not coming back, don’t you?’ Linda asked serenely.
Bonnie looked at her sharply. ‘I’m not stupid.’
‘I didn’t say that. What are you waiting for then?’
‘I have to say yes to the first man who asks me?’
‘When he’s that nice and asks that often, maybe you should at least think about it.’
‘He’s too young. And there’s Paige to consider too.’
‘He’s about six years younger than you, but I don’t see how that’s a problem. And Paige is going to hate whoever you bring home, because Paige hates everyone, so that’s no reason to stay single. You’re making excuses.’
Bonnie shrugged and looked away, unable to hold Linda’s questioning gaze.
‘Oh my God, there’s someone else you have your eye on, isn’t there?’ Linda squealed suddenly. ‘Who is it, come on, spill!’
‘There’s nobody else,’ Bonnie corrected hastily. ‘I’m just not ready for a man.’
Linda plunged her hands into her coat pockets and shot a wry glance at her friend. ‘Henri has been gone for two years. He wasn’t that much of a catch when he was here…’ Linda didn’t flinch under the sour look that Bonnie gave her. ‘I’m just saying…’
‘And you think our delivery driver is?’
‘He’s lovely. And he’s not just a delivery driver, is he? He owns the firm.’
‘That wasn’t what I was getting at. It doesn’t bother me how much money he earns.’
‘Clearly, as Henri was quite content to laze around and let you bring in all the money and you were happy to let him get away with it.’
‘He had… issues. Being French and all, it was hard for him to get a job. You know he didn’t get many clients for his language lessons either. And there was his depression too.’
‘Made everyone around him depressed, that’s for sure.’
‘Linda!’
‘It’s true. Bloody cock.’
They arrived at The Bountiful Isle delicatessen and sandwich shop, a place that was referred to locally simply as ‘The Bounty’. As they walked through the door they were greeted by a loud voice with a strong Greek accent.
‘Ladies! What will it be for the beautiful workers today?’
‘Hey, Stav,’ Linda said, looking down the board. ‘Flattery won’t get us spending any more money, you know.’
The deli owner pulled a face of mock affront. ‘Perish it! Every word from my mouth is truth.’
‘Yeah, right. So what’s going on with your nose then, Pinocchio?’ Linda replied.
Stavros laughed. ‘You are beautiful to me, fair Linda.’
‘How’s your Mama?’ Linda asked, ignoring the backhanded compliment.
Stavros pulled his face. ‘Getting uglier by the day.’
; ‘Poor woman,’ Bonnie giggled. ‘I hope Paige never talks like that about me.’
‘Come on,’ Linda turned to Bonnie, ‘what are we having?’
‘I’ll just have a cheese sandwich,’ Bonnie said, looking into her purse.
‘Right,’ Linda said to Stavros. ‘I’ll have a Cajun wrap special and Bonnie will have the same.’
‘But –’
‘It’s on me.’
‘Linda!’
‘Shut up and put your purse away. John got his annual bonus this week, so I’m flush. You’re the only thing that makes working in that bloody shop bearable so if I can’t treat you once in a while, it’s time to pack in.’
Bonnie was about to argue, then her face relaxed into a smile. ‘Thanks Linda. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘Yeah,’ Linda said giving her a wry sideways glance. ‘You keep saying that. Let’s hope you don’t have to find out.’ She looked up at Stavros, who was watching them with a grin on his face. ‘What are you standing around for, we only have half an hour, you know!’
Stavros erupted into a hearty laugh. ‘Oh, just like Mama! Marry me, Linda!’
***
Bonnie trudged up the path of her mother’s house. Her hand reached for the bell and stopped, mid-air, as a pounding bass erupted from within and the first strains of Another One Bites the Dust by Queen travelled out to her. Bonnie smiled to herself, imagining Paige’s face as Jeanie gyrated around the living room doing her best Freddie Mercury impression. Realising that the bell was as likely to be heard as a hamster with laryngitis, Bonnie hammered at the front door instead.
Moments later it was opened by a red-faced Paige.
‘Mum!’
Bonnie raised her eyebrows. Paige was sweating, her ponytail was coming loose, with half her hair hanging out at one side, and she was clearly out of breath.
‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been moshing with your nana.’
‘Yeah, but she wanted to…’ Paige moved aside without another word and let her mum through into the hallway.
Jeanie appeared at the living room door. Freddie was still singing his heart out on the sound system in the living room and the light fitting in the hallway was vibrating with the volume, dust dancing from the tops of the family portraits that lined the walls.
‘Alright?’ Jeanie shouted over the din, her face split into a huge grin. ‘We’ve had such a laugh today.’
‘Have you?’ Bonnie looked slyly at Paige, whose gaze dropped to her feet as she wrestled her hair back into a ponytail.
Jeanie disappeared into the living room and Bonnie followed. She watched as her mum went to the CD player and turned down the volume.
‘Cup of tea, love?’ Jeanie asked Bonnie as she straightened her denim blouse down over skin-tight trousers.
Bonnie’s attention was drawn to her mum’s bottom half. ‘Are those leather trousers?’ she asked with an incredulous stare.
‘Gorgeous, aren’t they?’ Jeanie said with obvious pride. ‘Got them off Ebay.’
Bonnie could think of a lot of words to describe the trousers that her mum had poured over her legs, but gorgeous wasn’t one of them. There was no doubt that for someone of her age, Jeanie had a fantastic figure; even so, leather trousers were not, in Bonnie’s humble opinion, entirely appropriate – even she would feel self-conscious in a pair. At times Bonnie was convinced that her mum thought she was twenty-six, not fifty-six.
‘I like them,’ Paige said in a stubborn voice from behind Bonnie.
‘I’ll get you a pair then,’ Bonnie replied sweetly.
‘Ugh!’ Paige turned and swept from the room.
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Jeanie said, sharing a wry smile with her daughter.
Bonnie shook her head. ‘I probably should get back,’ she said. ‘Thanks though.’
‘What have you got to hurry back for? I was going to tell you about the lovely shopping trip Paige and I had today. I got her some pink hair colour.’
‘What?’
Jeanie nodded as she squeezed past Bonnie to go to the kitchen.
‘She can’t use it, school won’t let her.’ Bonnie followed her mum to the kitchen.
‘It’ll wash out in no time. It’s not permanent.’
‘Did she choose it?’
‘No, I did. I thought it would look lovely with her skin colouring.’
Paige was sitting at the kitchen table texting.
‘You know you can’t use that hair colour, school won’t let you,’ Bonnie said to Paige.
‘Chill, Mum. I’ll just wait until the holidays.’
‘You used to dye your hair all the colours of the rainbow,’ Jeanie said to Bonnie. ‘And permed it too.’
Bonnie sighed and took a seat at the table. ‘I suppose it could be worse,’ she said to Jeanie, ‘you could have tried to get her to have that nose piercing again.’ She looked at Paige, whose attention had returned to her phone. ‘Who are you texting?’
There was no reply.
‘Paige?’
Nothing.
‘Earth to Paige,’ Bonnie called.
Paige looked up at her. ‘What?’
‘Who are you texting?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘No, but I’m interested.’
‘Why?’
‘I just am.’
‘Well, my text is very uninteresting, so maybe you want to find your entertainment elsewhere.’
‘Paige!’
Bonnie heard Jeanie chuckle from across the room where she was putting mugs out.
‘It’s not funny, Mum!’ Bonnie squeaked.
‘You have to admit, if nothing else she’s eloquent,’ Jeanie replied.
‘She’s fifteen.’
‘Yes, and very like her mum was at the same age.’ Jeanie turned and put her hands on her hips as she gazed at her daughter. ‘When did you lose that spark, Bonnie?’
Bonnie pushed a hand through her fringe and glanced at Paige, who had returned to her messaging. ‘Right about the time that Henri left.’
Jeanie sniffed as she squeezed the teabags in the mugs. ‘Him again. I knew he was trouble the minute you brought him home. Your dad said so too.’
‘Dad didn’t like him because he was French. Bloody Frog was the exact term he used.’
‘French or not, your dad knew bad news when he saw it; he just wasn’t good at expressing his feelings in a PC sort of way.’
‘He didn’t express anything in a PC way. He thought PC stood for Political Crap.’
‘All I’m saying is that you need to move on. Henri’s not coming back.’
‘I know,’ Bonnie said irritably, ‘everyone keeps telling me, as if I don’t know.’
‘Knowing is not the same as accepting, love.’ Jeanie crossed the room with two mugs and set one down in front of Bonnie.
‘I have accepted it.’
‘Then why aren’t you dating?’
‘Where is the rule that says I have to?’
‘There isn’t one. But it’s normal behaviour.’
‘Who says?’
‘I do.’
‘Ridiculous. Women can manage perfectly well without men these days.’
‘Oh, and when did you turn into Annie Lennox, doing it for yourself?’
Bonnie couldn’t help but grin. ‘Be careful, you’ll be showing your age: that song is so before my time.’
‘That song is a classic,’ Jeanie retorted, ‘old or not you can’t argue that Annie Lennox is amazeballs. Paige knows it, don’t you?’
Paige glanced up, shrugged, and then went back to her phone.
‘Amazeballs?’ Bonnie laughed. ‘You’ve spent too much time listening to your granddaughter. Next you’ll be telling me Freddie Mercury is epic.’
‘He is,’ Jeanie said defensively.
‘All I can say to that is LOL!’ Bonnie said.
‘You must have your eye on someone?’ Jeanie insisted, turning back to Bonnie.
Bonnie’s thoug
hts went to the flowery paper in her bag. ‘Not really.’ She took a sip from her cup. ‘Besides, men only let you down. It’s just not worth it.’
‘Not all of them.’
‘You’re still single.’
Jeanie looked into her cup. ‘That’s different.’
‘How?’
‘I’m older for a start. And your dad…’
‘Was the love of your life,’ Bonnie finished, her tone softening. ‘He was, and you were his, but he wouldn’t want you to be alone. Even when you went backstage flirting like a prossie with Whitesnake, he knew you’d always be going home with him. But he also knew how much you liked company, and he’d hate to think of you living on your own like this, year after year.’
‘I get plenty of company,’ Jeanie said. ‘More mates than I can visit.’
‘It’s not the same, Mum.’
‘We’re talking about you, not me.’
‘Pot… kettle…?’
‘Paige!’ Jeanie said, turning to her granddaughter in an obvious attempt to change the subject. ‘You want a can of coke or anything?’
Paige looked up from her phone. ‘Are we staying for a bit?’ she asked Bonnie.
‘For half an hour, why?’
‘I wanted to FaceTime Annabel.’
‘And you have to do that right now?’
‘Yeah, she’s got something important to tell me.’
‘Aren’t you texting each other as we speak?’
‘Yeah, but…’
Bonnie sighed. ‘At least let me finish this drink and gaze upon your beauty for a while, because once we get home, you’ll be locked in your bedroom with that ipad and I won’t see you for the rest of the night.’
‘You were the one saying we couldn’t afford it so if you did buy one I couldn’t leave it gathering dust under my bed… like everything else you get a fad for…’ Paige mimicked Bonnie’s voice as she finished the sentence.
‘Paige, don’t be hard on your mum, she’s been to work all day to pay for those things that are gathering dust under your bed.’
Paige almost fired back a reply, but then clamped her mouth shut and stared at her phone again.
‘Just leave it, Mum,’ Bonnie said wearily.
Jeanie shrugged. ‘You’re not staying for anything to eat, then? I have pork chops that need using up.’
Hopelessly Devoted to Holden Finn Page 2