The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (17 page)

The puppy began to waddle around the kitchen floor. Julie watched him in a daze, realising that she would have to take responsibility for rehoming him. The puppy continued to stagger round and round before coming to a sudden halt. He swiftly squatted, before Julie could understand what was happening. A second later he was up and trotting
into the hallway, leaving a small but stinky pile behind him.

Julie sighed. ‘You and every other male in my life,’ she muttered.

CHARLEY HAD FINALLY
confessed that she was making ice-cream again and the girls had insisted she bring some over to Julie’s house at the weekend.

She was trying out her brown bread ice-cream. It was a rich vanilla base dotted with crunchy clusters of caramelized brown bread. The name might not have sounded great but the taste was like cookies and cream. It was certainly going
down well with the girls.

‘I’d better not have any more,’ said Samantha, pushing away her bowl. ‘Richard’s popping by later and I don’t want my stomach to be all bloated.’

‘What’s the point in worrying what you look like?’ said Julie, between mouthfuls. ‘He’s married, isn’t he? He won’t care if you’re twenty stone.’

Samantha tried to look wounded. ‘It’s not just about the sex.’

Julie snorted
and almost choked on her ice-cream. ‘Of course it’s about the sex. Do you ever spend the whole night together? Go out in public?’

Samantha took a deep breath. She knew the girls wouldn’t understand how special her relationship with Richard was. But soon they would realise. Soon everyone would know how much he loved her.

Besides, he had sent her a huge bouquet after cancelling their last date.
She had accepted his grovelling apologies but kept him at arm’s length, in ice-queen mode. He was now desperate to see her, so she had decided she would allow him to later that afternoon and let him beg some more.

The puppy gambolled into the lounge at that point. Julie scowled at the focus of her current bad mood. Then she looked at Caroline.

‘Can you ask around at school and the playgroups
for me?’ she asked. ‘I don’t want him going to a rescue centre. I think it’s best he goes to a family home.’

‘Of course,’ said Caroline. ‘What have you been feeding him?’

‘I think Nick picked up whatever was on special offer at the supermarket,’ said Julie with a shrug.

Her friend frowned. ‘You’ve got to be careful, especially with puppies’ sensitive stomachs. What did the breeder recommend?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Didn’t Nick say?’

‘He didn’t even say it was from a breeder.’

‘Right,’ said Caroline, tapping the keys of her iPhone.

Charley stared, realising she had never even thought that she could be capable of phone envy until that time.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Samantha.

‘Seeing which is the best food for puppies.’ After a short while, she found the answer. ‘This website recommends
turkey with rice.’

Julie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘For a dog? He’s going to be eating better than me.’

Caroline ignored her. ‘The rice is very good for puppies’ delicate stomachs,’ she read. ‘Plus they need lots of protein for growth. Look, all the measurements are laid out week by week so you don’t over- or underfeed the puppy. How many weeks old is he?’

Julie stared at her. ‘I don’t know,’ she
said.

‘What did the vet say?’

‘What vet?’

Caroline was visibly shocked. ‘A puppy needs injections. I think it’s around the three-month mark. You can’t take him out for a walk until he’s properly protected against disease and infection.’

Julie was about to retort that she had no desire to take the puppy out anywhere. That would be Nick’s job when he returned. Instead she just sighed. What did
everyone else see in the dog that she didn’t?

‘What are you going to call it?’ asked Samantha, trying to move her feet away from sharp canine teeth.

Julie looked blank. She hadn’t named the puppy because then he would begin to become a proper presence in her life, something to care about. And she didn’t want that.

‘It’s got to have a name,’ said Charley. ‘What about Andrex?’

‘Or Scooby-Doo?’
said Caroline.

‘You must be joking,’ muttered Julie.

‘I know,’ said Caroline, with a sigh. ‘Blame it on the hormones. I’m pregnant.’

‘That’s wonderful,’ squealed everyone else, rushing over to give her a hug.

She nodded, a little tearfully. ‘I’m feeling permanently sick, but hopefully my blood pressure won’t rocket like it did when I had Flora.’

‘I tell you what would help,’ said Julie with
a smile, ‘a nice family pet to take your mind off the stress.’

Caroline shook her head. ‘Nice try, but a puppy and morning sickness is not a good mix.’

Julie sighed.

‘What about Fluffy?’ asked Samantha.

‘It’s got to be a proper name,’ said Julie. ‘I couldn’t bear something like Pluto or Digby.’

‘I know!’ said Caroline, picking up her iPhone once more and showing them
The Times
newspaper app.
‘And he looks exactly like him!’

She pointed to a story about the London Mayor. They all looked at the picture of Boris Johnson and then back at the puppy. It was a perfect fit.

‘Boris it is!’ declared Charley, before sweeping up the puppy in her arms. ‘What do you say, eh, Boris? Do you like your name?’

The puppy’s tail thumped at all the excitement.

‘He likes it!’ said Caroline.

And so
it was official. Of the four women, Julie was the only one not smiling.

A while later, they were getting back into the car to leave. Caroline sat in the driver’s seat and glanced across at Samantha, who was tapping into her mobile.

‘There’s a woman at work who might want a puppy,’ she said. ‘I’ll text her.’

‘Don’t send it!’ said Caroline, trying to snatch the phone out of her hands.

Charley
leant forward from the back seat. ‘What on earth’s the matter?’

Caroline glanced back at the house but thankfully the front door was closed. ‘That puppy could be the best thing ever to happen to Julie.’

‘But she hates it.’

Caroline shook her head. ‘Only because she thinks it will hurt her, like the men in her life have. But dogs aren’t like that. They’re faithful and loyal. When was the last
time she was given unconditional love?’

‘Know the feeling,’ muttered Charley, before shaking her head. ‘Sorry. Not about me today. Other people have problems too. Got it.’

Mike’s words of criticism were haunting her day and night.

‘We’ll just keep telling Julie that we’re putting the word around,’ said Caroline. ‘But we won’t, okay?’

‘What if she doesn’t get used to the dog?’ asked Charley.

‘If she’s still fed up when he’s six months old, then we’ll rehome him otherwise it’s not fair on the puppy,’ said Caroline. ‘But I think we should give Julie time.’

And so the pact was made.

IT WAS LATE
on Sunday afternoon and the sun was glinting on the trout. And the squirrel. Thankfully the badger had been returned to wherever it had come from.

Charley’s mother had cooked Sunday lunch for the whole family. The warm weather had helped them through it.

Charley’s nieces were playing with the garden hose in the garden, soaking themselves and everything else in
sight. Her twin sisters were on the patio arguing. Aunty Peggy was drunk on sherry, and her mother was in the kitchen trying to burn something.

Teatime and all was well in the land of the Summers family.

Charley handed her father his cup of tea.

‘Thanks, love.’

They sat together in silence for a while as she watched him slot together a wooden frame and tried not to think about what was going
to fill it.

She had always found his workshop a comforting place, despite the glassy-eyed audience. The windows were open and they were alone together. Birdsong filtered through from the garden. The sound of sandpaper smoothing down a piece of timber was oddly soothing.

For the first time in a long while she felt herself relax.

‘Charlotte! Daddy!’ her mother called down the garden. ‘Teatime!’

‘I’ve heard rumour of home-made carrot cake,’ said Dad.

Charley’s mouth dropped open in horror.

‘The quicker we eat it, the quicker it’ll be over.’

They reluctantly left the workshop and ambled down the garden, getting splashed with water as they went past the children.

‘Love the hair,’ cooed Victoria as they reached the patio.

Charley’s hand flew up to her head to touch the frenzied curls
that she now had to put up with.

‘What happened to your hair straighteners?’ said Elizabeth, running her hand over her own sleek blonde hair.

Charley shrugged her shoulders in reply. It was too nice a day to talk about the bailiffs.

‘Have you started paying Mum and Dad back yet?’ asked Victoria.

Charley blanched before retorting, ‘Yes. Of course I have.’

She had saved up a whole £10. It was
a ridiculously small amount of money but it made her feel slightly better.

‘And very grateful we were too,’ said her father, sitting down at the outside table before giving Victoria a glare.

Charley escaped into the kitchen just in time to see her mother jostle a burnt cake on to the counter. Maureen grabbed a carving knife from the drawer and stood over the cake before glancing at her daughter.
‘You look a bit down today.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Well, here’s something to cheer you up,’ said her mother. ‘A party.’

‘I think I’m too old for a bouncy castle.’

‘No, silly. It’s our silver wedding anniversary at the end of the month.’

‘I know. Where are we going for the party?’

Her mother’s smile dropped slightly. ‘We’re having it here, darling. At the house. What with money being short and everything.’

Charley’s eyes pricked with tears. She knew her mother had always dreamt of a special party for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. And the dream certainly hadn’t included a dull affair in their own back garden.

‘I mean, it’ll be more fun here, won’t it? A lovely afternoon tea party. I’ve invited all our friends. Everybody’s bringing something to eat.’

Charley smiled and nodded along with
her mother, but felt the weight of guilt hang over her. It was all her fault that they were having to do without. That her parents were having to relinquish their dreams.

‘I know!’ Her mother waved the knife around in an alarming way. ‘Hopefully it’s going to be hot so why don’t you knock up some of your ice-cream? There’ll probably be quite a few kiddies there.’

‘Of course,’ said Charley. It
was surely the least she could do?

She ended up poring over her recipe books late into the evening, determined to provide the most stunning ice-cream ever for her parents.

Unfortunately, she then overslept on Monday morning, having forgotten to switch on her alarm. Swearing under her breath, she dashed around the flat. It was too late to grab either a coffee or a shower, but at least the aroma
of dogs would compensate for that.

It was only when Charley arrived at Miss Fuller’s house that she remembered her employer was out that morning. Luckily she had a spare key and was still able to get inside. The sound of barking from within indicated that not all the dogs had gone with their owner.

As Charley put the key in the front door, she tried to ignore the blond blur pacing to and fro
behind the glass panels. As she opened the door, a hairy nose appeared through the gap, followed by the body of a labrador. It seemed Herbert had been left behind and was looking for company.

He threw himself at her and Charley staggered under his weight. She was only freed when he spotted a rabbit in a nearby bush and jumped off to chase it. Knowing he wasn’t usually allowed out of the house
unless on a lead, she then began to chase Herbert to try and get him back indoors.

No one warns you about this kind of thing at the beginning of a job, thought Charley as she ran. Can you dust a room properly? Yes. Can you use a Hoover? Yes. Do you have experience in handling animals, including obedience training and dog psychology? Er, no. Perhaps she should call Julie for advice.

Eventually,
she managed to drag Herbert by his collar into the house and shut the front door. He shot her a low ‘woof’ in disgust and went off to sulk in the lounge.

Later, when she switched off the Hoover, the sound of chomping filled the silence. Charley headed out to the hallway to find Herbert happily filling his stomach with a light snack. It was a good thing that she had never liked those flip-flops
and thanks to her previous shopaholic existence, she had plenty back at the flat to replace them.

SAMANTHA LET HIM
peel the top off over her head. She shook her head to make sure her hair settled back on her shoulders. He gave a gasp of delight at the sight of her lacy black bra and leant forward to kiss her neck.

A warm summer breeze wafted the curtain, letting in a shaft of evening sunshine. After he had arrived, they had enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine. All too
soon he had begun to make his move, putting his arm along the back of the sofa and moving closer.

They had intended to go out to dinner and were unlikely to make it to their eight o’clock reservation now.

‘Mmm,’ she murmured as he moved his mouth along her shoulder.

But Samantha’s heart wasn’t in it. It was no use. He wasn’t Richard.

She had met Gareth at the gym a week or so previously. He
was good-looking and reasonably fit so she had agreed to have dinner with him.

She hadn’t been surprised when he had made his move so early in the evening. After all, what was the point in going out to a restaurant to make small talk when they could have the main reason for their date over and done with?

He moved the bra strap from her shoulder, following it with his mouth. She knew Gareth didn’t
want a serious relationship with her. After all, you didn’t make a move like this if you were in it for the long haul.

And nor was Samantha serious about him. Gareth was being used to prove a point. That she could still pull any man she wanted, that she had no need to rely on Richard for male company.