The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (3 page)

‘This is fantastic,’ said Julie, licking the chocolate ice-cream from her spoon.

‘I don’t even like rhubarb normally,’ said Caroline, leaning forward to scoop more sorbet into her bowl.

‘Just one more spoonful then
don’t let me have any more,’ said Samantha, helping herself to the chocolate.

Charley smiled inwardly, revelling in her friend’s compliments. It wasn’t that Steve didn’t appreciate her cooking, but to her chagrin a takeaway from McDonald’s seemed to give him as much pleasure.

This was her favourite time, sitting around her lovely big kitchen table, eating good food and exchanging gossip.

‘So
what else do you know about this new Adonis in the office?’ asked Caroline.

‘He’s got buttocks of steel,’ replied Samantha with grin.

‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Caroline, shaking her head, but smiling too.

‘What’s the plan then?’ asked Charley.

‘Seduce him at the staff party at the end of the month.’

‘Does he have any brothers?’ asked Julie.

It was her first quip of the evening. She
had been quieter than usual, her trademark sense of humour absent after the grief of the funeral earlier that day.

Charley got up from the table to get another bottle of wine, thinking as she did so that she was in awe of Samantha’s love life. Charley herself had never had a one-night stand, her first and only date had been with Steve, twelve years ago.

The wine cabinet was hidden behind a dark
walnut door. Charley picked up a bottle of Pinot Grigio, chilled to just the right temperature. She loved all the gadgets in the kitchen; the hot water tap, which meant the work surfaces didn’t need to be cluttered with anything as mundane as a kettle. The integrated bean-to-cup coffee machine, which produced everything from espressos to large lattes. And, of course, the Gaggia Gelatiera ice-cream
maker.

She returned to the table and topped up all the wine glasses, apart from Caroline. She was driving Samantha home.

‘Are you sure Nick’s all right?’ asked Caroline. ‘I mean, something must have happened for him to miss the funeral.’

Julie shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, blowing out a long sigh. ‘But it won’t be anything serious. It never is.’

‘Easy does it,’ said
Samantha to Caroline who was helping herself to yet more ice-cream. ‘Are you going for the world record?’

They all knew that Caroline never overdid anything, especially food.

‘Everything okay?’ asked Charley.

Caroline tucked a strand of red hair behind one ear. ‘It’s all been a bit stressful today. Apparently I’ve left it too late to book Flora the violin lessons with Professor Stratberg.’

‘Who?’ asked Samantha.

‘He’s the best violin teacher in the area. Comes highly recommended. I was told to leave it until she was five, so that her hands would be large enough. I figured there was only a couple of months to go until her birthday, so I’d perhaps book some lessons in early. But now the professor is fully booked until Christmas.’

‘It’s only February!’ said Charley.

‘Exactly,’ said
Caroline with a sigh.

‘She’s only four,’ said Samantha, trying not to roll her eyes.

‘You do realise that Mozart was five when he wrote “Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star”?’ replied Caroline, still stressed.

‘Yes, but he’d never been subjected to the
Teletubbies
,’ said Julie, a touch acidly.

A while later, they were giggling over Samantha’s bitchy descriptions of her work colleagues, when the front
door slammed shut.

‘Sounds like the Lord of the Manor is home,’ said Charley.

‘I’d better think about going,’ said Caroline, standing up. ‘Lord knows what state I’ll find Flora in when I get home.’

Julie was also rattling the front-door keys in her hand. ‘It’s been a long day,’ she said, hugging Charley goodbye.

‘I’ll pop in tomorrow,’ Charley told her.

She waved them off from the front door
before closing it behind her. The house was quiet, giving no indication where her husband was. She hunted around the ground floor before finding Steve slumped in a chair in the den. It was a snug room with large leather armchairs and a huge 3D television.

‘Hello,’ said Charley, leaning down to kiss him.

Even after twelve years together, he still looked good to her. His strong jaw and cheekbones
had become a little more pronounced over the years but he managed to maintain his muscular body with frequent visits to the executive gym to which they both belonged.

But as Charley inhaled the strong smell of whisky and cigarettes coming from him, she stopped short.

‘Have you been smoking again?’ she said. ‘I thought you’d stopped.’

‘Give it a rest,’ snapped Steve, suddenly getting up and
leaving the room.

Charley trailed behind him, shocked by his harsh tone. Normally Steve was all charm and cheeky smiles. But he wasn’t smiling now, as he headed into the kitchen and poured himself a large glass of wine.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

He swilled the wine around in the glass before downing it in one. ‘Nothing,’ he said, sitting down at the table which was still strewn with dirty
bowls and spoons. ‘Go to bed.’

‘Is it the bank?’ she asked, picking up the dishes and taking them over to the dishwasher. ‘I had a problem with both the debit and credit cards today. You need to get it sorted out tomorrow.’

As she bent down to load the dishwasher, she could feel an extra roll of fat escaping over the waistband of her designer jeans. She hadn’t visited the gym in months and then
only for a massage. She really had to go the next day and talk to someone about a personal trainer. She turned round to catch Steve pouring himself another large glass of wine, his mouth a tight line.

Charley walked over to the table and sat down opposite him, suddenly anxious.

‘What’s happened?’

There was a short silence whilst he swirled the liquid round and around in the glass.

He took
a large gulp before replying, ‘It’s all gone.’

‘What has?’

‘The business. Our money. Everything.’

‘What do you mean, it’s all gone? Gone where?’

Steve took a deep breath. ‘As of four o’clock this afternoon, we are now officially bankrupt.’

Charley stared at him in horror as he raised his glass to her in mock celebration.

‘Cheers,’ he said.

FOR A MINUTE
after her husband’s shocking admission, Charley could only sit speechless. At last, she found her voice. ‘I don’t understand. How has this happened to us?’

She realised his mouth was trembling as he fought tears. So she leant across the table and grabbed his hand.

‘Tell me everything.’

‘Business hasn’t been so good recently.’

‘It’s a recession. What does the bank
expect us to do about it?’

‘They expect us to pay back our debts.’

Charley frowned. ‘How much do we owe?’

Her husband sighed before speaking. ‘Almost £200,000.’

She was aghast, her hand slipping away from under his. ‘How can we owe that much money?’

‘Unpaid rent on the shops. Stock to pay for.’

Charley frowned. ‘Yes, but that still seems a huge amount.’

Steve looked away. ‘Things have been
tight since we opened the third shop. I sorted out some loans but didn’t read the small print. Turns out the interest was sky-high. We’ve ended up owing almost double the amount borrowed. I’ll never be able to pay it back.’

‘Wait,’ said Charley, dragging a hand through her hair. ‘The third shop? That was over a year ago. Why didn’t you tell me?’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Thought I could sort
it out by myself.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘So have you talked to the bank? What about the Citizens Advice Bureau?’

‘It’s too late,’ he snapped. ‘We’ve got an interview with the Official Receiver on Friday. He wants all our personal papers. Mortgage and all that kind of stuff.’

‘Why does he need all that? It’s the business that’s bankrupt, not us.’

Steve got up from the table to find another
bottle of wine to drink. With his back to her, he said, ‘Our commercial landlords were given a personal guarantee against the shops.’

‘I don’t understand what that means.’

He glanced over his shoulder. ‘It means that we’ll have to use any assets we own to pay off the debt.’

She took a sharp intake of breath. ‘We’ll lose the house?’

He shrugged his shoulders before turning away again. ‘House,
savings, the lot.’

Suddenly Charley was angry. She got up from the table and began to pace across the kitchen.

‘I don’t believe this! I don’t bloody believe this!’ she raged at him. ‘How can you have got us into such a mess and not told me?’

‘I told you to calm down on the spending, didn’t I?’ Steve shouted back.

Charley felt a guilty pang. She had raided the savings accounts recently to pay
off some of the credit card bills. She had planned to put the money back, but it seemed she was too late.

‘I didn’t know things were this bad.’

‘No, you never asked. You just kept on buying more and more bloody stuff!’

Charley’s face flushed with shame as she realised there was some truth in that. But she retaliated, ‘You’re blaming me for all this?’

‘Fancy holidays to the Caribbean. Expensive
furniture.’ Steve waved his hand around the room. ‘Posh kitchen, for God’s sake.’

They glared at each other for a minute before she was able to take a deep breath. She placed her hands on the kitchen counter, drumming her perfectly manicured nails on the imported Italian marble worktop. Charley clenched her jaw and ignored the small voice inside reminding her of the tens of thousands of pounds
she had spent on this room. And the rest.

‘So we have to go and see this Receiver person on Friday?’ she said, deliberately making her tone softer once more.

‘Yeah.’

They looked at each other for a beat before she headed around the counter to give him a hug.

‘We’ll get through this,’ she muttered into his chest.

‘I know,’ Steve replied dully.

Charley waited until he had gone upstairs to
take a shower before finally sinking on to one of the kitchen chairs. She had done very well not to scream and rant at Steve . . . but what a mess. She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to. A tear slid out of one eye and rolled down her cheek.

She brushed it away before standing up again. It would all be fine. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as they imagined. Perhaps they wouldn’t have to lose the
house. They would make it. They would get past this and move on.

She finished tidying up the kitchen, switching the dishwasher on before heading upstairs.

Steve was already in bed, his snores an indication of the amount of alcohol he had consumed that evening. She tried to snuggle in, desperate to be comforted, but he turned away from her, oblivious.

But Charley couldn’t find the luxury of
sleep. Her mind was racing and she suddenly felt very afraid of what the future held for them.

THURSDAY BROUGHT A
fine drizzle but it didn’t stop Julie from pottering down the garden to see if her daffodils were in bud. She was just straightening up when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. It was Charley.

‘Hiya!’ she called out, surprised to see her friend at that time of the morning.

Then Julie’s heart flipped when she saw Charley’s expression. She just managed
to reach her before Charley collapsed sobbing into her arms.

‘What is it?’ said Julie, drawing her friend inside into the kitchen.

‘I’m sorry,’ cried Charley. ‘I know you only had the funeral yesterday but I didn’t know where else to go.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Julie. ‘Tell me everything.’

She pressed her lips together and kept quiet whilst Charley poured out her heart.

When she’d finally
stopped, Julie asked, ‘So what happens now?’

‘We’ve got some kind of interview tomorrow with the Official Receiver.’

‘Sounds fun.’

‘I’ve got to get all our paperwork together today.’ As she spoke, Charley realised that it had been some years since she had really got involved in the business or even looked at the bills. She had left it all to her husband.

‘What about Steve?’

‘He disappeared
first thing,’ she sighed. ‘I think he’s feeling guilty and can’t face me.’

Julie patted her on the arm. ‘Typical man. They’re just like mascara . . . always running at the first sign of emotion.’

The touch of humour caused Charley to disintegrate into more tears.

‘What do I tell everyone?’ she sobbed.

‘You tell them the truth,’ said Julie firmly. ‘If they don’t want to know you any more then
tough luck. They’re obviously not true friends.’

Charley nodded. ‘You’re right. But can you tell Caroline and Samantha for me? I’m having trouble getting any words out at the moment.’

‘Of course. Do you want to hang out here for a while? I’ll be at work until four but you’re welcome to stay here if you need time to think.’

Charley shook her head. ‘I’d better head home, in case Steve comes back.’

‘Okay. But if you change your mind, just let yourself in.’

‘Thanks.’

Julie watched Charley walk away and then called Caroline.

‘You’re kidding!’ she said. ‘I had been wondering how their shops would cope in the recession, though. Obviously not wishing them ill or anything. You know, it happened to one of the mums from the nursery. Came home one day to find the house boarded up and the locks
changed. Husband had never told her about their debts, until the bank took the house.’

‘So Charley’s lucky that she knows what’s going on?’

Caroline blew out a sigh. ‘Not sure I’d use the word lucky. Look, we’d better warn her to get anything of sentimental value out of there, just in case the same thing happens to them.’

‘Good idea,’ said Julie. ‘She can put any jewellery in my safe.’

‘Poor,
poor Charley. God, what a mess.’

‘Poor being the word,’ replied Julie, drily.

She called Samantha next.

‘Do you think they’ll lose everything?’ asked Samantha, shocked.