‘She’ll be worth every penny you pay her. She often works Saturdays too so you’ve got a good chance of speaking to her today if you wanted to set the ball rolling.’
Bonnie hadn’t considered how much a divorce would cost her. As if Lew could read her mind he then said, ‘I think you’re looking at around a couple of thousand pounds, in case you’re wondering. It won’t be much cheaper with anyone else either so take my advice and use her.’
Bonnie’s eyes rounded. She hadn’t expected it being anything like as much. Would she have to pay it all or would Stephen be liable for half? She guessed the former.
‘Look,’ Lew began, scratching his newly shaved chin, ‘Bonnie . . . please don’t be offended but if you need me to advance you some wages or even to borrow money—’
Bonnie held up a protesting hand. ‘No, I don’t want to go down that road—’
He interrupted back. ‘All I’m saying is that the offer is there should you need it. Okay?’ She nodded, grudgingly, but both of them knew she wouldn’t ask. Some people weren’t used to taking because they had so little experience of it.
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ he went on. ‘You nip next door to Leni’s for a couple of toasted teacakes so we can toast – if you’ll excuse the pun – your first day of freedom. What do you think about that?’
‘That sounds smashing,’ said Bonnie, but she couldn’t quite believe it was freedom. Not yet. More of a fool’s paradise, knowing Stephen.
Chapter 37
There had been a steady stream of customers in the shop all morning, but at one o’clock it was empty, except for Valerie who was in her unit unpacking some clothes and steaming them on their hangers with her iron. Lew had gone out to the supermarket in Penistone for some wine for the evening. It was the first chance that Bonnie had had to talk to Valerie. She looked terribly pale and aged, thought Bonnie. Grief was weighting her features, pulling her lips downwards into a sad arc.
‘You all right, Valerie?’ asked Bonnie.
‘Thank you, as well as can be expected,’ she replied, pressing the steam button to remould a felt hat.
‘I didn’t think you’d be in for a while.’
‘I have to carry on and earn a living,’ said Valerie, with a loaded sigh. ‘My world is a little grey at the moment, Bonnie dear, but slowly some colour will come back into it, I’m sure. I’m going to stay with my sister in Italy for a couple of months. Hence why I’m here, replenishing my stock so there’s plenty for you to sell in my absence.’
Bonnie wanted to throw her arms around Valerie and hug her, but she wouldn’t. Valerie wanted to keep her composure intact, even if her heartbreak was obvious.
‘Valerie, would you mind if I borrowed your iron for two minutes please?’ asked Bonnie. ‘Whilst the shop is empty? My shirt needs a press.’ She checked to make sure no one was about to come in.
‘Go behind my changing curtain,’ commanded Valerie. ‘I’ll do it for you. Go on and take it off.’
Bonnie did as she was told.
‘I’ve never seen you with a creased shirt before,’ said Valerie as Bonnie handed it to her. ‘In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never been less than immaculately presented. Now why is that, I wonder?’
‘I left my husband,’ said Bonnie from behind the curtain. ‘I only took the bare essentials with me.’
Valerie didn’t miss a beat. ‘And when did you do this?’
‘Yesterday,’ said Bonnie, peeping around the curtain. ‘After what you said at the funeral about taking your chance, I took mine yesterday.’
Valerie pressed the short sleeve of the blouse. ‘Jack always said you weren’t happily married. Harry Grimshaw once told him that he didn’t like your husband.’
‘Really?’ said Bonnie. Harry had never interfered, apart from what he’d said at her wedding, and she’d certainly had no idea that he’d spoken about her to anyone else.
Valerie went on, ‘Of course Harry was too much of a gentleman to gossip but he did once tell Jack that he thought you had rushed into things.’
‘I did,’ sighed Bonnie. ‘I made a mistake.’
Valerie handed the shirt back to her.
‘Not so easy to leave a marriage. I know this, of course,’ said Valerie with a sad smile. ‘Especially when you are held there by ties of loyalty.’
Bonnie nodded slowly. Valerie was talking about Jack; she didn’t know how true that was of Bonnie’s situation too.
‘Where are you living now, Bonnie?’
‘I’m renting Starstruck’s daughter’s house on Rainbow Lane in Dodley Bottom.’
‘I’ll leave the iron for you. I won’t need it if I’m going away. And take the ironing board too. Are you short of anything else, other than that? I have a few bits of extra furniture at home.’
Bonnie smiled. ‘That’s very kind of you, Valerie, but I’ll not put you to any trouble. I’ll buy pieces here and there when I can afford them.’
Valerie’s hands flew to her hips in a gesture of impatience. ‘Do you have a bed? Sofa? Table? Chairs?’
‘I have one of those chair things that flops out into a bed.’
‘That will be no good at all for your back,’ Valerie tutted. ‘Leave it with me.’
‘Honestly, Va—’
‘Can I tell you something, Bonnie?’ Valerie cut her off with a snap in her voice.
‘Go on,’ said Bonnie. Valerie was a formidable creature and when she demanded people’s attention, she usually got it.
‘Your father was a gentleman. When I first started off in this game, I fell behind paying my rent in his shop because someone bounced a large cheque on me. He gave me three months free on my unit so I could get on my feet and I think he’d have given me more if I’d needed it. I survived because of his kindness and I never looked back, and I don’t forget things like that. I’ve made a good living at this game and I’ve loved it, and I have your dad to thank for extending his hand of friendship towards me when I needed it most. And it isn’t just me that feels like that. Your dad helped Stickalampinit out with a lot of things, and Jack and Boombox and Stan. They all thought a lot of your father and they wouldn’t see his daughter in need.’
Bonnie recalled how many of them went to visit him in the home, just to pass some time with him. Even though he mostly didn’t recognise them, they still went and sat and talked to him.
‘You have customers,’ said Valerie, shooing Bonnie away just as she was about to open her mouth and protest. Bonnie saw how shiny and full of tears her friend’s blue eyes were before she turned back to steaming the hat. ‘Bonnie, go and attend.’
Chapter 38
Patrick and Regina’s behemoth of a house stood behind presidential-style electric gates. Jason and Lew privately referred to it as ‘the White House’ because Regina had had the facade of it painted a blinding shade of white a couple of years ago so that it would stand out from the other five clone houses on the prestigious cul-de-sac. She also had an eight-foot fountain installed in the front complete with stone cherub posed in arrow-shooting mode on top.
‘You look nice tonight,’ said Lew as Charlotte took his arm when they got out of the taxi, because the pebbles on the drive weren’t compatible with her heels.
‘Thank you.’
‘Haven’t seen that bag before, is it new?’
Charlotte stopped in her tracks. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means have you bought yourself a new bag, because I haven’t seen that one before. It’s called conversation.’ Mentally Lew threw up his hands in exasperation.
‘Do you mean “we’re on an economy drive so you shouldn’t be buying anything”?’ she replied tightly, resuming walking, but her grip loosened on his arm.
‘Okay, I’m sorry I asked,’ replied Lew, refusing to be pulled into an argument and setting a sour note for the evening. ‘If it is or isn’t new, it’s nice . . .’
‘It’s not new,’ said Charlotte, but he knew she was lying because that nervous smile
was playing at the corner of her mouth.
‘I wouldn’t begrudge you a handbag, Charlotte. Just not one made out of a white crocodile.’
‘It’s. Not. New,’ she insisted through clenched teeth.
Lew rang the doorbell and Patrick greeted them looking even heavier and hairier than the last time they’d seen him. He’d gone past Chewbecca and advanced to Bigfoot. ‘Come in and what can I get you both?’ he asked, rubbing his hands together.
‘I’ll have a glass of red,’ said Charlotte.
‘Same for me, please,’ added Lew, noting that Charlotte hadn’t said please. Another one of Regina’s less desirable influences, thought Lew. People of class and distinction didn’t have to say please, would have been her ridiculous justification.
They were the last to arrive. Regina, who was directing things in the kitchen, came out to greet them warmly. She made no mention of what had happened during the week in the shop and Lew had put it to the back of his mind so that it wouldn’t encroach on his enjoyment of the soirée. Then they joined Jason and Gemma who were in the garden under the pergola, glasses in their hands: wine for him, Shloer for her. Patrick was the best host and, as Regina liked to show off, she usually pulled all the stops out when it was their turn to hold a dinner party. Lew hoped – for once – they’d have an evening that passed without incident. They were all well overdue that privilege.
Gemma and Jason jumped up to greet them too. Gemma, especially, looked delighted.
‘We aren’t meeting up enough,’ she said, settling back onto the big rattan outdoor sofa. ‘We must be due a shopping trip soon, Charlotte.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Charlotte. ‘But I’ll have to check my diary, it’s mad busy at the moment.’
Mad busy? thought Lew. With what? he wondered. Gemma hadn’t bought the lie either if the small shrug of her shoulders and the withered ‘Okay’ were anything to go by. It was funny that as soon as Regina rang, there wasn’t anything that his wife wouldn’t drop to accommodate her. It saddened him. He hoped that Gem and Jason did have a baby and that she met more deserving friends with children.
Lew and Jason had a quick catch-up. Jason was expanding the business to include American vehicles, Lew learned. He started reeling off figures of what he was paying out and his expected profits but Lew couldn’t quite concentrate because he was watching how Jason’s forehead didn’t seem to move when he spoke. Jason, it appears, was worshipping at the altar of the Botox god these days. And he’d had his eyebrows shaped.
Regina appeared and plonked herself down next to Charlotte and Lew noticed how wide and genuine his wife’s smile grew, as if she was at school and the head girl had just picked her out to be her friend. Patrick followed and sat on the chair arm next to Lew.
‘Shouldn’t you be putting the chip pan on, Reg?’ laughed Jason.
‘Fernanda has everything in hand in the kitchen. I’m better off out of the way,’ she replied.
‘Fernanda’s leaving us soon,’ put in Patrick. ‘She’s getting married and is going back to live in Brazil.’ He looked sad about that.
‘Lovely for her, but sad for you, I imagine,’ said Gemma. Fernanda had been their live-in housekeeper for three years.
‘We will miss her a lot,’ agreed Patrick, scooping up a handful of vegetable crisps from a bowl on the table.
‘You’ll miss looking at her arse,’ chortled Regina, swigging back the last of the wine in her glass. Patrick didn’t respond, as if he was so used to these sorts of comments now, they didn’t even flash up on his radar.
‘Jason’s just been telling me he’s expanding the business, Gem,’ said Lew, moving the conversation away from women’s arses and back to the much safer subject of cars.
‘Tell me about it. I never see him these days,’ Gemma replied, rolling her eyes but smiling at the same time.
‘As you gentlemen know, you have to put in the time to build up the business,’ said Jason, winking at his fellow entrepreneurs.
‘Excuse me, and women as well,’ said Gemma, jabbing herself in her chest.
‘I’m talking big business not trimming someone’s fingernails, Gem,’ laughed Jason, but there was too much derision in there for Lew’s liking. He was reminded that the last time they’d met, Jason had also said something in front of them all that put his wife down.
‘Cheers,’ said Gemma with a good-humoured tut. She hadn’t taken offence by the sounds of it. Maybe I’m being over-sensitive, thought Lew.
‘Yep, it’s all going really well,’ said Jason. ‘So if you want to get rid of that old banger of an Aston Martin, Patrick, I’ll give you a couple of thou’ for it.’
‘In your dreams,’ said Patrick. ‘She’s the love of my life.’
‘Apart from Regina, obviously,’ put in Charlotte.
‘Of course,’ nodded Patrick, but not very convincingly.
‘I might come and see you. I need something more satisfactory than I have at the moment, Jason,’ said Charlotte. ‘A little less conservative and more racy.’
‘Anytime. Just come in my office when you’re ready,’ he replied, quirking a waxed eyebrow. ‘Always go for speed above comfort, that’s what I say. I can sort you out, no problem with that.’ A click of the tongue, a cheeky wink. Lew wondered what the hell had gotten into him. Had a little money gone to his head so much? A bottle of dye had also gone to his head, he noticed. The grey hairs that had been sprouting at his temples were now as dark as the rest. He was turning into Boycie from Only Fools and Horses.
‘So how’s Sparkles doing, Gem?’ Lew enquired. As soon as he asked, Jason started another conversation about cars, leaving Lew and Gemma to it.
‘Very well, thank you,’ she replied. ‘I’m building it up as much as I can and training up a manager to take care of things for a while when I catch on.’ She crossed her fingers and raised them.
‘Any luck yet?’ Lew asked, casting Charlotte a quick, concerned glance, but she was too busy listening to what the others were talking about.
‘Alas no,’ she said. ‘Jason’s always knackered when he gets in. His working hours aren’t conducive to my temperature chart.’ She chuckled. ‘I can’t believe I’ve been bitten by the broody bug at forty though. I mean, what’s that all about?’
Jason and Charlotte groaned loudly at something Regina had said, which led Lew to think she’d made another joke at Patrick’s expense.
‘I’m a big believer in there being a right time for some things, Gem, and not always when you’d expect it,’ said Lew. ‘Now, when the baby comes, you’ll have some money at your back and security and age and experience that you didn’t have before.’
‘You’d have made a nice dad, Lew,’ said Gemma, giving his hand a sudden squeeze and his gut a hell of a sucker punch.
*
Bonnie was spending the night quietly tucked up in bed with her book after a Chinese takeaway from the restaurant around the corner, and a large glass of red wine, or rather a mugful, because she hadn’t brought any glasses from Greenwood Crescent. It didn’t matter what she drank from, but she felt that she wanted to toast her new life properly and she had. Wishful thinking and having the guts to back it up with some action had got her this far, she had to believe they would help her keep it.
When she went to pick up her chow mein from the takeaway counter, she could see through to the restaurant which was full of couples and groups all smiling and eating together and she wished she were part of the scene. Maybe in time she might meet a kind, sociable man with good friends and a great line in banter. It was something else to wish for. She pictured Lew at a table with his buddies that night, laughing, drinking wine, though not from mugs. She imagined him turning to her, grinning at her. She imagined feeling lucky that he was hers and the person she’d be going home with that night.
*
Fernanda sounded the dinner gong and everyone filed back into the house, seating themselves around the amazing glass and metal dining table which Regina had custom-made by a Japanese des
igner. The chairs were stunning polished chrome, although Lew always thought they became very uncomfortable to sit on after an hour, however impressive they were to the eye.
Whilst Patrick refilled everyone’s glass, Fernanda served up the starters: exquisite parmesan crisp baskets filled with a warm bacon and avocado salad with tiny quail eggs sitting on top.
‘Fernanda, Fernanda, they are not going to let you go,’ said Jason. ‘You are too good.’
‘They should lock you in the house so you can’t get out,’ added Gemma, which sent a shiver tripping down Lew’s spine.
Fernanda chuckled. ‘I have to go, Mr Whiteley. My fiancé needs me to cook for him.’
‘He’s a very lucky man,’ said Patrick, tucking straight in as if he hadn’t eaten for days.
‘No wonder you’re on course for doubling your weight by next month,’ Regina remarked.
‘I’ve starved myself all day for Fernanda’s cooking,’ came Patrick’s retort.
‘You – starve yourself?’ said Regina, with a loud ‘ha’. ‘Yeah, looks like it. You’re turning yourself into a hog roast.’
‘Children, children,’ said Gemma, raising her glass. ‘Come on, let’s toast something. I know, what about friendship.’ She raised her glass and everyone lifted theirs to join with it in the air. She chinked it against Lew’s and the thought came to him that out of everyone around that table, at that moment in time, he liked her the most. In all the years he’d known her, she’d always been sweet and uncomplicated, hard-working and smiley. She’d been a rock for Jason and never bragged about anything she’d accomplished. Lew hoped that Jason appreciated what a gem he had in Gemma.
Regina had made Patrick change seats so she was sitting next to Charlotte, interrupting the boy-girl, boy-girl, boy-girl pattern. She’d made such a fuss about it that Lew hoped Gemma didn’t feel put out that they were cosying up to each other so obviously.
‘That’s a lovely bag you have, Charlotte,’ said Gemma, noticing it parked on the urban-chic sideboard behind her.
The Queen of Wishful Thinking Page 19