Chapter Seventy-five
THE FOLLOWING MORNING Caroline smiled to herself as she thought of her friends’ reactions to her suggestion of a group resolution.
Of course, she had already decided how she would be brave. She would be brave enough to let go. To relax. To let things slide.
So much had happened to all of them over the past six months. Did she really need to fret that Flora wasn’t learning Mandarin any more? Especially as her daughter had never seemed to enjoy it. She’d certainly never smiled after the lessons in the way she smiled when she helped Julie take Boris for a walk. Or when she had been playing hide and seek on the heath with her friends from school.
So Caroline was going to relax and give Flora the greatest gift she could think of. She would have the time to dream, to play, to laugh, to run. To be a child.
She would also try not to set herself and Jeff such high standards. Her husband was enjoying his new work, along with the much shorter commute. He was home by six o’clock and therefore able to help with dinner plus Flora’s bath-time and story-reading.
He and Caroline had cuddled together on the sofa the previous night. ‘I love being with you both,’ he’d told her. ‘I always felt a bit isolated before. Like I didn’t know my own daughter.’
She kissed him on the cheek. ‘We love having you home more too.’
‘We can make the mortgage payments, but I’m afraid that’s the end of our fancy holidays for a while.’
Caroline shrugged her shoulders. ‘It doesn’t matter where we go, as long as we’re all together.’
‘Even camping?’
She grimaced briefly before smiling. ‘Even camping.’
The favourite part of Julie’s day was also the favourite part of Boris’ day as well. That first release from his lead on the morning walk caused her dog to run and bounce with glee, his tail swinging round and round with joy. It always brought a smile to her face.
‘Someone’s cheerful this morning,’ said Wes, appearing from the opposite direction.
‘Just Boris being Boris,’ Julie told him, feeling ridiculously pleased to see him.
‘Happy New Year.’
‘You too.’
He had a great suntan that shone out from the winter gloom. He looked healthy and hunky. Julie found herself gulping at how attractive he was.
‘They’re great when they’re this age, aren’t they?’ said Wes. ‘I was hoping I would bump into you this morning. I’ve got a present for you.’
He’d bought her a present? All the way from Australia?
‘Proper doggy chocolate drops,’ said Wes, bringing the packet out of his pocket. ‘The non-poisonous, doggy-friendly kind.’
Julie found herself having to force out a bright reply. ‘That’s great. Thank you.’
She felt a stab of something. Jealousy? Of her own dog? She was an idiot. She took the packet, his large fingers briefly brushing hers.
‘So you had a nice time in Australia?’ she asked.
‘It was great. But Mum always cries when we get to the airport.’
‘It must be hard for her,’ replied Julie. ‘She must hope you’ll move back home at some point.’
‘She knows I’m settled here now,’ he said.
Thank God, Julie found herself thinking.
‘Well, I’d better be off to work,’ she told him. ‘No rest for the wicked.’
‘I know,’ replied Wes. ‘I’m always trying to find an extra hour in the day, even if it’s just to walk the dog.’
‘Well, thanks again for the chocolate,’ she told him.
And then they went their separate ways, both deep in thought.
It wasn’t until she had walked a short distance that she finally focussed on what Boris was doing, which was eating as much horse manure as he could in a short space of time.
‘Boris!’ snapped Julie. ‘Stop that. Bad dog!’
His ears went down at her angry tone.
‘I’m sorry,’ she told him, bending down to stroke his head. ‘Here, have a wretched chocolate drop.’
He wolfed down a couple of them before giving her hand a lick in thanks. Julie tried not to think about the horse manure.
‘Do you know, you’re the first male who’s loved me just as I am?’ she told him. ‘You don’t care about my lack of money or the fact that I’m not all girly and sexy.’
Sometimes Julie longed to be soft and lovable. One of those women men wanted to protect from all evil. A girly girl. But she knew that wasn’t her. Knew she could never be like that.
She glanced at her watch and realised she had to get back to the house to be on time for work. She thought about Wes’ words on trying to find another hour in the day.
She finished her walk with her head bent, deep in thought. Something had to give in her life. It was all about being brave, she realised.
Chapter Seventy-six
CHARLEY WAS ALSO mulling over Caroline’s pledge of courage. Be brave, indeed.
‘It’s hard to be valiant and courageous when you’re cleaning other people’s toilets,’ she told Caroline and Julie the following weekend.
‘Well, things can always change,’ said Caroline, breaking into a grin.
‘What are you talking about?’ asked Julie.
‘It’s about Charley.’
‘Me?’ said Charley. ‘What have I done?’
‘Only made such fabulous ice-cream that the new Lady Beckenham up at Grove Castle has got to hear about it.’
‘Oooh! La-di-dah!’ said Julie, grinning.
‘But I haven’t made her any’ said Charley, frowning.
‘Well, she heard about it from someone,’ carried on Caroline. ‘And now she wants to place an order.’
‘Okay,’ said Charley. ‘Did she have any ideas?’
‘Well, seeing as it’s for the Valentine’s Ball, she thought something heart-shaped.’
Caroline broke into a warm smile as she watched the idea slowly sink into Charley’s mind.
‘The Valentine’s Ball?’ she said, now astounded. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly. And so was she. They want you to make all the desserts for the Valentine’s Ball.’
‘That’s fantastic!’ said Julie.
‘Isn’t it?’ said Caroline.
Then they both stared at Charley once more. But she wasn’t smiling. She was panicking.
‘How many? How many desserts does she want me to make?’
‘Two thousand individual desserts,’ said Caroline.
‘I can’t make that many,’ replied Charley, shaking her head.
‘But you’ve got to,’ her friend told her. ‘Think of the money, if nothing else.’
‘How much are they willing to pay?’ asked Julie.
‘A cool £5,000,’ said Caroline. ‘I got them to up the figure because of the late notice.’
‘What am I going to do?’ said Charley. ‘I mean, I’d love to, but I just haven’t got the time . . .’
‘Jeff and I were working it out last night,’ said Caroline. ‘He said the publicity alone will generate you so much business you should be able to set up on your own.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Julie. ‘You think Charley should do this full-time?’
‘Absolutely.’ Caroline picked up her laptop which was lying nearby. ‘We did a bit of research, working out how many ice-cream cakes and punnets she could make and sell each week. I’ve got all the figures here.’
But Charley couldn’t focus on the columns on the screen. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You running your ice-cream making as a proper business.’
‘But what about the cleaning?’
‘Is that what you really want to do for the rest of your life?’ asked Caroline.
‘This is mad,’ Charley told her friends. ‘It’ll never work.’
‘So you can go back to your cleaning if it doesn’t,’ Julie told her. ‘But think what might happen if it does work.’
Charley bit her lip. ‘I
don’t know. I really don’t.’
‘Remember what I said the other day,’ Caroline told her. ‘About our pledge to be brave. You’ve been braver than anyone I know this past year.’
‘She’s right,’ said Julie. ‘You’ve got through the worst of it. What have you got to lose now?’
Charley gulped. This was a turning point in her life. She could be brave or she could run away. But surely she had done enough penance for her many faults in the past? She had already survived one new start in the last twelve months. Perhaps she could survive another.
So she nodded. ‘Let’s do it,’ she told her friends, breaking into a smile.
Chapter Seventy-seven
CHARLEY HANDED IN her notice to Patricia on Monday morning, with more than a hint of nervousness in her voice.
‘Well, I can’t say I’m pleased,’ said her boss on the phone. ‘You’re one of our best cleaners. Not that there’s a lot of competition, I’ve got to admit.’
‘Thanks for the opportunity,’ said Charley. ‘It really helped when times were tight.’
‘I’m going to the Valentine’s Ball so I’ll look forward to sampling the ice-cream. But can you work out your notice this week? That would really help me.’
‘Of course,’ said Charley, wishing she could refuse.
That left her with not much time to plan the desserts for the ball and an awful lot of goodbyes to be said.
Miss Fuller surprised her with the enthusiasm she showed for Charley’s new job.
‘Something local,’ she boomed. ‘Splendid! That’s what we need around here. Not all that fancy stuff in the supermarkets, full of who knows what. Well, I wish you luck.’
It was a similar theme amongst most of her other customers too.
Prepared to put up with Mrs Smith’s sneering one last time, Charley was amazed to find her shuffling around the house in her dressing gown and no make-up.
‘He’s gone,’ said Mrs Smith in dull tones.
‘I’m sorry?’ replied Charley. ‘Who’s gone?’
‘My husband. He’s gone . . . it’s all gone.’
She was pale and shaking so Charley sat her down at the kitchen table and made her a cup of tea. ‘What happened?’
‘The silly sod invested it all in some dodgy shares. We’ve got nothing! Everything will have to be sold. The house, the cars . . .’
Charley tried not to smile at the irony as she sat down at the table with her employer. ‘The same thing happened to me,’ she said.
The other woman stared at her, as if taking proper notice of Charley for the very first time. ‘You?’ she said, amazed. ‘You had money?’
Charley nodded. ‘We went bankrupt and lost everything.’
‘What did you do? How did you cope?’
‘I coped because I had friends and family who loved and supported me. And I got a job as a cleaner. No, it wasn’t glamorous, and, yes, it was hard work. But it paid the rent and meant I could eat every week.’ Charley gave her a smile of sympathy. ‘I can tell Patricia if you like. They’re always on the lookout for more cleaners.’
Mrs Smith looked horrified. ‘I’m not going to be a cleaner!’ she cried.
‘It’s not so bad,’ Charley told her.
As she left, she realised her words were true. It really hadn’t been that bad. It had been a job that had kept a roof over her head and food in the fridge. What could be more important than that?
Mrs Wilberforce was possibly the most upsetting person to say goodbye to. Charley had already made sure Patricia had organised a suitable replacement.
‘I think it’s super,’ Mrs Wilberforce told her. ‘Proper ice-cream. My Ernest used to take me to an ice-cream parlour in our courting days.’
Charley knew she would miss these times with the old lady on a Friday afternoon and found her eyes filling with tears as she tidied the kitchen one last time.
Mike came in, saw her crying and came over to give her a hug. ‘Come on,’ he said, giving her a squeeze. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her. Don’t fret.’
‘I know,’ said Charley, with a sniff. ‘I don’t know why I’m so sad.’
‘It’s all a bit scary at the minute,’ he told her. ‘But it’s a good kind of fear. It really is.’
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked up at him.
‘My life’s changing again,’ she told him.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Thank you,’ she found herself saying.
‘For what?’
‘For keeping me going through the darkest of days.’
Mike broke into a smile. ‘That’s what friends are for, aren’t they?’
Charley smiled back. Yes, they were friends.
As she watched him leave, she finally admitted to herself that it wasn’t only Mrs Wilberforce she was going to miss.
Chapter Seventy-eight
THE GIRLS HELD a summit meeting at Caroline’s house the weekend after Charley had finished work.
‘No more cleaning,’ she said with a satisfied sigh. ‘Unless I fail spectacularly and get myself into more debt.’
‘Rubbish,’ said Julie. ‘You’ll be fine.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Caroline. ‘Remember what I said about being brave? So, what have you decided to make for the ball?’
‘Chocolate and raspberry hearts,’ said Charley. ‘Chocolate because everyone loves it, raspberry because it’s pink, and hearts because it’s Valentine’s.’
‘You’re going to make 2,000 individual ice-cream hearts?’ asked Caroline, looking faintly apprehensive. ‘In three weeks?’
Charley nodded. ‘I tried it out last night.’ She leant over to bring a silver object out of her handbag. ‘I wrapped tin foil around a long length of card and then made it into a heart shape. Then I just stapled the two ends together at the pointy bottom bit.’
‘Then what?’ asked Julie.
‘I filled the heart-shaped mould with some ice-cream that was just on the verge of setting then I stuck it in the freezer. Once it was solid, I cut the mould away and that was it. Simples.’
‘How long did that take?’ asked Caroline, glancing at Julie.
‘A couple of hours,’ said Charley. ‘But the heart was a bit of a pain to get right at first.’
‘I see,’ said Julie, staring wide-eyed back at Caroline. ‘So a couple of hours times 2,000 . . . ? Hmm. I think I’d better ask for some holiday in the next couple of weeks.’
‘You will?’ Charley was amazed. ‘Thanks.’
‘Actually the time off is the first part of a bigger plan,’ said Julie. ‘All that being brave stuff you made us think about.’
‘Why? What are you up to?’ asked Caroline.
‘I’m thinking of going part-time,’ Julie told them. ‘I’ve had a chat with my boss and he thinks we can work something out. Maybe job share.’
‘Blimey,’ replied Charley. ‘You’re going to be a lady of leisure?’
‘Hardly,’ said Julie, with a grin. ‘Look, Sidney’s moving out of the flat soon and he’s going to need help settling into his new retirement place. And I can’t keep leaving Boris on his own all day. It’s not fair. And with any extra time after all that, I’ll be packing.’
‘Packing?’ the others exclaimed.
‘I’m going to put the house on the market,’ said Julie.
‘But you’ve been there years,’ said Charley.
‘And that’s the problem,’ said Julie. ‘I’ve got a huge mortgage on it, two if I’m really honest. And what do I need a big house in Upper Grove for? I don’t even like the area.’
‘But it’s been your home for nearly twenty years,’ said Caroline.
‘And I’ve been hiding in there for most of that time. I mean, what do I need a dining room for? Or all those extra bedrooms. I need to get myself straight financially. I was thinking of getting a small cottage in Little Grove.’
‘Will you still need a mortgage?’ asked Caroline.
‘Hopefully not. That’s another plus. I held on to the
house for far too long. Security blanket, I guess.’
‘Long enough that some developers might offer you a small fortune for it now,’ said Charley.
‘Let’s hope so,’ said Julie with a grin. ‘So what’s the plan for Charley and the chocolate ice-cream factory?’
‘I was talking to Jeff last night,’ said Caroline. ‘The financial whizz kid that he is thinks this business could be a roaring success.’
‘If I get the Valentine’s Ball desserts done in time,’ Charley reminded her.
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Julie.
‘Exactly,’ said Caroline. ‘And once you get their recommendation, the world is your oyster. You’ve already got people who can help you so you don’t have the worry of recruiting. The only other overheads are the ingredients.’
‘Plus Sidney doesn’t want any money for renting the shop,’ said Julie. ‘He’s just happy someone is using it. He loved the rum and raisin flavour, by the way. Said the rum did him the world of good.’
‘Eventually you could get your own website,’ said Caroline. ‘Jeff says he can help you with that. Maybe even open the front of the shop as an ice-cream parlour permanently.’
Charley was beginning to look stressed. ‘I can’t think about that. If it ever happens, that’s way off in the future. Look, I’ve got to concentrate on making those desserts first.’
‘Which is another thing,’ said Caroline. ‘We were looking on-line last night. There’s a second-hand industrial-sized ice-cream maker for sale for £1,500.’
‘I don’t have that kind of money,’ Charley told her, horrified.
Actually, thanks to the recent flurry of business she had about half that amount put away to give back to her parents.
‘But you’re going to be getting a deposit from Grove Castle,’ Caroline reminded her. ‘Isn’t it worth investing in labour-saving tools?’
‘It’ll help with the amount of ice-cream you’ve got to make for the ball,’ Julie told her. ‘How else are you going to make it all?’
Charley went into the kitchen to make everyone a cup of tea.
‘She thinks she’s going to fail,’ whispered Julie.
‘I know,’ replied Caroline in a low voice.
The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan Page 27