The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (28 page)

There
were loads of pumpkins as Hallowe’en was only a fortnight away but Charley still wasn’t sure. There were a few baby pumpkins, but those were terribly expensive. Besides, pumpkin and ice-cream didn’t really go, did it? Charley wasn’t sure that pumpkin and anything went well together.

She was just beginning to lose heart when she passed one of the last fruit and vegetable stalls. She stopped in
the middle of the path and backed up a few steps, staring down at the box of fruit.

‘How much?’ she asked the trader.

‘How many do you want, darling?’ His cheeks were bright red from the cold wind.

Charley did a rough count in her head. ‘Thirty. No, you’d better make it forty.’

‘Forty oranges? You’re keen, aren’t ya? You making marmalade?’

She gave him a slow grin. ‘I hadn’t planned to but
it’s a good idea. How much?’

He blew out a long breath. ‘Go on, then. I’ll never get them sold now. You can have the whole lot for two quid. They’re just on the turn, you know.’

It was such a bargain she nearly leant over and kissed him. ‘That doesn’t matter.’

She handed over a £2 coin and carried the box all the way home. On the way, she popped into the corner shop and picked up four large
bars of chocolate and some tubs of cream.

Staggering through the front door, she heaved the box on to the kitchen top and then allowed herself a small smile. This was going to be fun.

Charley decided to make the ice-cream first, one batch of chocolate and one of plain vanilla. An hour and a half later, the tubs of ice-cream were beginning to crystallise in the freezer.

It was almost dark outside
so she had to switch on the overhead light in the kitchen. She plucked one of the oranges out of the box and stared at it for a while. Then she grabbed one of her carving knives and waved it in front of the orange whilst her mind tried to shore up its initial idea. If this didn’t work then she had just bought forty oranges for nothing.

In the end, she decided to be brave. The expensive carving
knife had been one of a set that she had hidden from the bailiffs. She had been very grateful for that afterwards, especially now when it pierced the rough skin of the orange so cleanly.

She sliced all the way across the orange about a quarter of the way from the top. Then she placed the ‘lid’ to one side and carefully began to scoop out the inner fruit, trying to leave the remaining skin intact.

Charley sucked on a juicy segment of orange whilst she stared at the empty shell. Then she took the knife once more and carefully carved out two small eyes and a jagged mouth. Stepping back, she beamed at the orange. It looked just like a tiny pumpkin all dressed up for Hallowe’en. She repeated the process with a second orange before bringing the chocolate ice-cream out of the freezer.

It was
almost frozen so she was able to spoon some into the empty orange. The darkness of the chocolate from behind emphasised the scary face she had carved out of the skin. She popped the lid back on and stepped away.

There it was. A smiley, scary Hallowe’en dessert.

Charley alternated between the chocolate ice-cream filling and the plain vanilla one, which looked equally as good emphasising the scary
face. It wasn’t a birthday cake as such, but it was different, individual, and in keeping with the Hallowe’en theme. And each one could have a candle placed on top of it.

She glanced at the clock on the front of the oven. It was nearly eight o’clock and she had at least a couple of hours’ work still to do on the desserts, but she didn’t care. She wanted to finish the job before the oranges deteriorated.
And besides, she was having too much fun to stop now.

CHARLEY RUSHED AROUND
at Mrs Wilberforce’s house and was out to the car on the dot of four o’clock.

‘Another hot date?’ called Mike, coming across the garden.

‘I haven’t had the first one yet,’ she told him before briefly explaining about Boris.

‘So where are you off to now?’

‘A birthday party for Flora, Caroline’s daughter.’ Charley sighed. ‘What is the collective noun for
a room full of five year olds?’

Mike broke into a grin. ‘An uproar,’ he replied.

She drove home smiling at his dry wit. Steve, she thought, had had barely any wit, and absolutely none of it dry.

Charley had just changed into her black jeans and top for the Hallowe’en party when there was a knock on the door.

She had to laugh at the sight of Julie, who had wrapped herself up in bandages, from
her head all the way down her torso and legs to her feet, looking just like an Egyptian mummy.

‘Did you drive here like that?’ asked Charley.

‘Of course. I’m hoping being mummified will help stop the ageing process.’ Julie stepped into the hallway and watched Charley place a witch’s hat on her wild black hair. ‘You could have made more of an effort.’

‘I’m on a budget.’

Julie breathed in deeply.
‘This whole place smells of oranges.’

‘I know. Isn’t it lovely?’

‘It certainly takes away that hint of damp.’ Julie followed her into the kitchen. ‘Let’s have a look then.’

Charley lifted the lid on one of the cool boxes that Caroline had lent her to keep the desserts as cold as possible.

‘Blimey!’ Julie stared down at the scores of smiling faces on the oranges lined up within. ‘Looks like
a freak show in there.’

‘You think they look scary enough?’

‘They’re giving me the creeps, sitting there smiling at me.’ Julie poked at one of the faces. ‘What are they made of?’

‘Oranges with chocolate or vanilla ice-cream inside.’

‘I’m impressed. I didn’t know you had been keeping your artistic talents hidden. But what happened to all the insides of the oranges? Don’t tell me you ate them
all?’

‘Not all of them, but I don’t think I’m in danger of getting scurvy any time soon. Right, let’s get these in your car before they melt.’

The inside of Little Grove village hall was festooned with fake spider’s webs and pumpkins lit from within by candles. The lights were turned down low to scare the children, who were scaring the adults by eating too much sugar and becoming hyperactive.
But the sight of Julie doing her Egyptian mummy impression with arms held rigid in front of her sent a shiver down everyone’s backs.

Caroline had laid out a few games for the children. In one of them they had to guess the body part by sticking their hand into a covered box. The brains made from spaghetti and blood made from tomato ketchup went down particularly well.

After the children had worn
themselves out whacking the piñata-witch to smithereens, everyone adjourned to the big long tables set out for tea. Once the majority of the food had been wolfed down, everyone received one of Charley’s Hallowe’en-face desserts in a paper bowl. There were even enough for the adults to have one each.

‘The puddings were great,’ said one of the women to Caroline, once teatime was over and the kids
were tearing around the hall once more. ‘Where did you get them from?’

Caroline pointed wearily to Charley. ‘My friend made them.’

‘Are you all right?’ asked the woman.

‘I just feel a bit drained,’ she said, dropping on to a chair.

It wasn’t long before Julie and Charley took charge, organising a lift home for Caroline and reassuring her that the party would be fine without her. Caroline had
protested at that but they had promised her that Flora would have a lovely time and would tell her all about it when they brought her home.

A couple of hours later, the party was finally over. The hall was in a state of devastation and the tidy-up began.

Except that Charley found herself surrounded by people, all eager to hear the details of her creative genius.

She was just telling them about
having to stir the ice-cream every half hour to ensure it stayed velvety-smooth when Julie barged her way through.

‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Can I have a word?’

She led Charley to a quiet corner.

‘Thanks for that,’ Charley told her. ‘It’s hard to make ice-cream sound interesting. So what’s up? Your ex-husband come back to haunt you?’

But Julie wasn’t smiling and her eyes looked troubled.

Charley
clutched her hand in alarm. ‘What is it? Is it Nick?’

Julie shook her head. ‘No. It’s Caroline.’

THE GLARE OF
the fluorescent lighting in the Accident and Emergency department of the hospital painted everything with a green tinge.

Charley and Julie had received a few chuckles and stares as they arrived in their full Hallowe’en get-up, but they weren’t the only ones. Sitting in silence and sipping the dreadful vending-machine coffee, they both watched as a small boy was
pushed through the waiting room in a wheelchair. He was dressed up in a black cloak and pointed hat and clutching what appeared to be a child-sized Hoover.

‘Just ’cos Harry Potter can fly, don’t mean you can,’ said his mother, walking alongside the wheelchair.

‘If we’d had a broomstick, I could have done,’ the boy said, scowling at the Hoover.

Charley and Julie watched them go through the swing
doors before giving each other a small smile. Julie clutched Charley’s hand briefly and squeezed it before letting go.

They had been in the waiting room for nearly an hour when Jeff appeared through the swing doors. He was pale and had obviously been crying but he gave the hint of a smile as he took in their costumes.

‘How is she?’ asked Julie, having given him a quick hug.

‘Weary, but I told
her you were both out here and she said she’d like to see you. The nurses said you could only stay for a couple of minutes, though.’

He led them through the doors and past a line of small rooms, each occupied by two patients. At the end of the corridor was a single room where they found Caroline lying in bed with her eyes closed. They crept in and hovered by the bedside, staring down at her.

‘They’re going to move her up to the ward in a minute,’ said Jeff. ‘Charley and Julie are here, love.’

Caroline opened her eyes and gave them a smile but Julie noticed it didn’t extend to her eyes.

Charley sat down on the bed and gave her a kiss. ‘What happened?’

‘It’s pre-eclampsia.’

‘That’s why your blood pressure was so high?’ asked Julie.

Caroline nodded. ‘And all those headaches.’

‘What
happens now?’ said Charley.

‘They’re going to keep me in for a couple of days and then, if I’m very good, I can go home.’

‘No more running around for you,’ said Julie, sternly.

‘No more anything,’ said Jeff, who had stayed nearby. ‘They’ve said she must have complete bed rest.’

‘Otherwise I’ll lose the baby,’ said Caroline, her voice suddenly tremulous with tears.

‘Flora’s gone home with
Molly and her mum,’ said Julie, looking at Jeff. ‘They said she can always stay the night.’

He nodded, looking exhausted.

Caroline looked very small in the bed. So very pale with only her beautiful red hair spread out across the pillow to lend her any colour.

Charley took hold of her hand and squeezed it.

‘How was the party?’ asked Caroline.

‘Flora had a lovely time. We got lots of photos
and Julie did a good job of scaring everyone.’

They all looked at Julie who was beginning to unpeel, a long strip of bandage dangling down from her arm. ‘I aim to please.’

‘You gave us a scare too,’ Charley told Caroline. ‘I hate that we can’t do anything for you.’

‘Just being here’s enough.’

For a moment none of them said anything, listening to the hubbub from the hospital corridor. Jeff
started to sniffle in the corner and Julie went across to hug him.

‘It’s all my fault,’ he said, beginning to break down. ‘I was made redundant.’

‘When?’ asked Julie, shocked.

‘Just today,’ he said. ‘There’s been round after round of redundancies but each time I was okay. I worked harder and harder, trying to make sure I was essential, but it didn’t matter in the end. The whole office is going.’

‘Poor you,’ said Julie, shaking her head.

‘What are we going to do?’ said Caroline, beginning to cry.

‘You’ll survive,’ said Charley, squeezing her hand. ‘After all, if I can do it, anyone can. How good are you with a mop?’

It raised a small smile from Caroline.

They gave both her and Jeff a hug before the porter came to take Caroline up to the ward.

Charley and Julie managed to hold out
until they had got back in the car and then they allowed themselves a little cry.

They used Julie’s bandages to mop themselves up before heading home.

THE LAST THING
Charley wanted to do after Caroline’s near miscarriage was go out on the re-arranged double date. But Samantha was insistent that it should go ahead and arrived promptly at the flat at 7 p.m.

‘Is that what you’re wearing?’ she asked, her face wrinkled up in dismay.

‘Yes.’ Charley glanced down at her outfit. She was wearing a white camisole top, jeans and some
high heeled boots. All were expensive items that she had dug out from the back of the wardrobe. The top still had the sales tag on it. ‘Why?’

Samantha shrugged her shoulders. ‘You might have shown a bit of leg.’

Charley threw on her aviator jacket, also barely worn. ‘It’s November and going to be ten degrees later.’

‘You don’t think you could have made a bit more of an effort?’

‘I spend my
life in old jeans and tops covered in dust and dirt. I’ve washed my hair and painted my toenails. Believe me, I have made an effort compared to how I usually look.’

But Charley now felt even more nervous.

Richard and his friend Keith were waiting for them in the bar. They were almost hidden from view in one of ten booths that lined the far wall. Samantha seemed to sense where they were and zoomed
ahead of Charley.

As they reached the last booth, both men stood up to greet them. In a room packed with glamorous people, Richard fitted in well. He adopted the nonchalance of someone who knows they look good.