The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (24 page)

Every evening she just wanted to come home and relax but the dog needed attention, to play and be walked. Bored at being left for hours at a time, Boris was slowly chewing his way through
the wood-laminate flooring.

Except that day he had found something else. He had managed to reach up to the kitchen counter where Julie had left her mother’s favourite bud vase, ready to be replenished with sweet peas. The sheepish expression on his face when Julie came in and found the vase in pieces on the floor said it all.

Something snapped in her then. She had reached the end of her tether.

The girls had told her that nobody could afford the upkeep of a golden retriever because of the recession. But Julie knew somebody must want this dog more than she did.

So she rang the local newspaper and placed an advert for the following week, that read, ‘Puppy For Sale’.

ALL WEEK, CHARLEY
had been praying for a miracle. Something that could turn her business around. Anything that could help. And on Saturday morning, she got the first sign that someone was listening.

The weather had been mixed so far that summer, the odd sunny day but no endless sunshine as had been forecast in advance. But that was about to change. She had received a couple of text
messages already that week from Caroline, telling her that the weather forecasters were predicting a heatwave.

And, for once, they were right.

Friday had been a bright day, the summer sunshine finally breaking through the fluffy white clouds. But by Saturday somebody had turned up the thermostat. The weather was going to top the mid-eighties and stay that way for the foreseeable future. Surely
that would encourage customers to come into the shop?

But Charley felt no excitement as she turned over the ‘Open’ sign on the front door. No anticipation of the day ahead. She was going to thank her lucky stars if she got through it in one piece.

‘Hi,’ said Julie, rushing in a while later. ‘I picked up the hundreds and thousands you wanted.’ She came behind the counter and dumped her handbag
on a seat. ‘My God, the supermarket is packed. There’s a real scrum. Everyone’s trying to get stuff for barbecues.’

Charley nodded and attempted a smile.

‘You’re gonna have to do better than that,’ said Julie. ‘Smiles all round as the customers flood in.’

‘What customers?’ said Charley, gesturing at the empty shop. ‘They’ve all read the review and are staying away.’

‘Keep the faith,’ Julie
told her. ‘Somebody somewhere’s got to want lovely ice-cream, haven’t they?’

And she was right. As the temperature soared, the customers flocked in. Thankfully, Caroline and Aunty Peggy were on hand to help out later that afternoon.

‘Coo, I needed this,’ said Peggy, helping herself to a couple of scoops of vanilla-and-fudge-flavoured ice-cream.

Caroline frowned. ‘Isn’t that your third helping?’

‘I’m quality control,’ said Peggy, grinning. ‘Gotta make sure the stuff’s up to scratch.’

Charley and Caroline locked eyes but said nothing.

‘Excuse me,’ said a woman in upper-class tones. ‘Is your ice-cream fairtrade?’

‘It certainly is,’ said Peggy, in between licks. ‘Fairtrade, organic, free-range, recyclable, you name it.’

Caroline subtly moved in front of Peggy and smiled at the customer.
‘Can I help you?’

But the woman’s reply was drowned out by the chimes of an ice-cream van parking right outside the front door. The tinny sound was on full volume as the tune played on and on.

‘He’s got a cheek!’ shouted Julie, who had just returned from taking Boris for a quick walk.

‘He’s blocking out the sunshine,’ said Peggy, scowling through the window.

To Charley’s horror, Wayne of Wayne’s
Whippy entered the shop as he had done the previous weekend. He had left the chimes playing on the loudspeaker fixed on top of the van.

‘Can’t believe you’ve got the cheek to open up again,’ he scoffed, elbowing his way past the queue. ‘Especially after the dog’s dinner you made of it last week.’

Charley slowly took in his tattoos, beer belly and grubby t-shirt. ‘If you’re not here to purchase
anything, please leave,’ she said, in her loudest, snootiest tone.

‘I’m doing a special offer,’ he announced to the queue of waiting customers. ‘Buy one, get one half-price.’

‘More like buy one, get a stomach upset,’ snapped Julie. ‘You and that van are a health hazard.’

‘Hah!’ laughed Wayne. ‘I wasn’t the one serving dodgy ice-cream last week.’

Charley was dismayed to see a few of the customers
glance at each other in concern. They obviously hadn’t read the disastrous review.

‘It wasn’t dodgy,’ she quickly told them. ‘The power cuts affected some of the flavours.’

But one customer took her child’s hand and left the shop.

‘All the ice-cream is brand new this week,’ said Charley in a bright tone. ‘There’ll be no further problems.’

‘So she says,’ sneered Wayne.

Another customer left
the queue and headed back out into the sunshine.

Charley felt tears begin to prick her eyes. It was all going wrong again.

‘Listen, mate,’ said Julie. ‘I see no problems here that wouldn’t be helped by your departure.’

With that, she gave Wayne an almighty shove towards the door. He took the hint but left his van parked outside, the music playing over and over.

‘Free ice-creams,’ shouted Julie
over the din.

There was a rush to the front of the counter. Charley was horrified, thinking that any profit she’d made was disappearing fast.

But, to her surprise, Caroline agreed with Julie’s actions when she popped in later on.

‘That was absolutely the right thing to do,’ she said, nodding furiously. ‘Think of the repeat business.’

‘Nobody’s going to want to come in with that music playing
over and over,’ said Charley, shaking her head.

‘The important thing is that the ice-cream was good. Really good.’ Julie gave her friend a hug. ‘That’s a start, isn’t it?’

Charley tried to smile but knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.

THE HEATWAVE CONTINUED
throughout the first two weeks of August. As Charley opened the door to the shop, she glanced over at the green opposite where the grass was now faded and brown.

She let herself in, relishing the cool of the shop compared to the heat outside. But the weather had at least been good for business. School holidays had meant a brisk trade each afternoon and
she had ended up leaving the shop open until the evening. Some of her cleaning customers had gone on holiday so she had taken advantage of the free hours to make more ice-cream.

But the previous evening she had noticed that the darkness had drawn in by eight o’clock. Autumn was just around the corner and then the shop would have to be closed once more. After all, who was going to want to buy
an ice-cream cone in October?

Charley knew she should be grateful for having had the chance to earn some extra money, and that now perhaps she would get the opportunity to rest after such a busy summer. The previous morning, Mike had found her asleep on the back doorstep of Mrs Smith’s house.

‘Hey,’ he had said, gently touching her on the shoulder.

But Charley had nearly jumped out of her skin
and instantly sprang to her feet. ‘What?’ she said, blinking at the bright sunshine.

‘Were you asleep?’ he asked with a laugh.

‘No,’ she said, somewhat embarrassed. ‘I just closed my eyes for a minute.’

‘I see.’

‘It was only for a second in the sun. If I spend any more time indoors I’m going to get scurvy.’

He suddenly sat down on the back doorstep and pulled her down next to him.

‘I’ve
got to get back to work,’ she protested, shuffling her bottom on the hard concrete.

‘Five minutes,’ he told her, leaning against the back wall. ‘Besides, she’s gone out shopping so I’ve made us a cup of coffee.’

Charley realised she must have dropped off to sleep as he would have had to creep past her to make the drinks. She shook herself with a sigh as she gratefully took the mug from him.
It was too hot to get bothered about anything. She finally relaxed and sat back with a sigh, the warmth from the sun quickly spreading through her.

‘How’s things?’ asked Mike.

‘Good,’ she told him. ‘Apart from Wayne’s Whippy, of course.’

Mike frowned. ‘Is he still giving you trouble?’

Charley sighed. ‘That van is permanently parked outside but it means I get some of his passing trade, so it’s
not all bad. I’m just tired, that’s all.’

‘Can’t you drop a few of your cleaning jobs for the time being?’

She shook her head. ‘Need the money too much.’

‘But the shop’s going well?’

‘So well that I barely have time to make the ice-cream. It’s a juggling act to make sure we’re always fully stocked.’

He took a sip of his drink. ‘Can’t you get someone to help?’

‘I should but I’m enjoying it.
Whenever I get some free time, I mooch around the market and buy whatever fruits are in season, then I head home and add a touch of cinnamon or walnuts or honey. Sometimes it tastes disgusting and I have to start all over again. But sometimes I get it just right. I found the most fantastic recipe in an old cookbook I got for a pound in the second-hand bookstore. You wouldn’t believe . . .’

Her
voice trailed off as she realised Mike was smiling at her.

Charley felt her cheeks redden. ‘But that’s enough from Nigella for now.’

She took a long swig of coffee from her mug but managed to spill most of it down her chin. She wiped it away with her hand, avoiding his look.

He gave a low chuckle but said nothing, instead closing his eyes and turning his face up to the sun. It gave her a rare
moment to study him. The dark hair was ruffled, as always. The eyelashes lying against his cheeks were similarly thick and black. Her gaze drifted downwards to his arms which were muscly and brown from working in the summer sun. She looked briefly at his broad chest before moving her eyes upwards once more to his face.

It was then that she found him watching her with a smile. In a slow movement
he reached out one hand towards her. She had a sudden vision of being pulled towards him and kissed, right there in the sunshine.

But his hand went up to her hair instead, plucking something out of her ponytail.

‘I think it’s a money spider,’ he said, bringing his hand back so he could study the tiny creature he was holding.

‘It must be lost,’ she told him, quickly getting up and heading back
into the kitchen.

That afternoon, having opened up the shop as quickly as possible, Charley’s spirits sank once more as the familiar chimes of Wayne’s ice-cream van rang out from the pavement.

Business was slow that afternoon, which unfortunately gave Wayne the opportunity to visit the shop once more. Only a few customers were inside this time.

‘Not many in here, are there?’ he cooed, giving
her a wink. ‘I’d give up if I were you.’

‘Haven’t you got better things to do?’ snapped Julie, glancing at Charley’s fading smile.

‘Aww, don’t feel bad about it,’ cooed Wayne, ignoring Julie and continuing to grin at Charley. ‘A lot of people ain’t got no talent.’

Charley bowed her head. She should never have opened up the shop again. There were some things that were out of her control.

‘What’s
going on?’

She looked up to see Mike moving to the front of the crowd, which appeared to be building in anticipation of a showdown.

‘Is he giving you trouble?’ said Mike, taking in Charley’s stricken expression.

She glanced at Wayne before replying, ‘It doesn’t matter.’

But Mike had turned back to face Wayne. He had straightened up but Mike towered over him.

‘What’s up, Wayne?’ he said, keeping
his tone light. ‘Can’t take a bit of healthy competition?’

‘This is my patch,’ muttered Wayne.

‘Well, it was,’ said Mike. ‘Until you were done for illegal street trading last year.’

Wayne shrugged his shoulders. ‘So what?’

‘So I thought you were banned from ever trading again?’

‘Nobody cares about that.’

Mike smiled at the queue who were agog at the stand-off in front of them. ‘But I think
they’ll care about the food poisoning outbreak. What was it . . . listeria?’

‘Was never proved,’ said Wayne, beginning to sidle away.

‘Go on,’ said Julie, moving to stand next to Mike. ‘Hop it. And take that disgusting van with you.’

‘Your only purpose in this life is to serve as a warning to others,’ said Mike, taking Wayne by the shoulders and marching him out of the shop.

‘Blimey,’ said
Julie, turning to face Charley. ‘Who ordered the bouncer?’

The chimes of Wayne’s van soon faded into the distance and the women quickly served their customers.

Mike waited until the queue had died down before going up to the counter again.

‘Thanks,’ said Charley, with a grateful smile. ‘Now, this one’s on the house. What do you want?’

‘Chocolate fudge brownie and toffee sundae,’ said Mike,
with a grin.

Charley put a scoop of each into a large cone before handing it over.

‘So?’ she asked, as he took his first bite.

Mike nodded. ‘Fantastic,’ he told her.

‘Let’s hope everyone else agrees with you,’ she said.

‘They will,’ he replied. ‘And as long as I can rely on my staff discount, I’ll be one of your most frequent customers.’

Charley stared at him for a beat as a smile spread
across his face.

‘Don’t push your luck,’ she told him.

But with Wayne’s Whippy finally out of the way, she began to relax and hope that everything would be all right from now onwards.

‘MUMMY!’ WHINED FLORA,
shuffling her feet impatiently on the pavement.

‘Just one more photo,’ said Caroline. ‘I promise.’

She was trying not to cry as she looked at her daughter through the camera lens. Flora was so grown up in her school uniform. It seemed like yesterday that she had been a baby in Caroline’s arms. Now it was September and she was going off into the world
on her own.