The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (21 page)

So from somewhere deep inside, she found herself saying, ‘Okay, I’ll do it.’

‘
I DON’T UNDERSTAND
how you can run a business when you’re bankrupt.’

Charley sighed. ‘Mum, as I’ve told you before, it’s Julie’s business. She’s inherited it from her uncle and she’s only loaning me the shop for the summer. Just to make a bit of cash.’

‘It’s quite seasonal, isn’t it?’ added her father. ‘As a business, I mean.’

Charley nodded.

‘So you probably won’t make
any real money?’ Her mother’s tone was full of concern.

Charley dragged a hand through her wild hair. ‘I don’t know until I try. But maybe. I mean, they’re talking about a heatwave this summer, aren’t they?’

‘Aren’t they always?’ said her father, with a wry smile.

Charley bit her lip. She couldn’t really blame them for being so negative. After all, the last business she had been involved in
had crippled them all financially.

‘Look, do the figures add up?’ said her father.

‘The ingredients don’t cost too much. There are already freezers and tubs in the shop, they just need a good clean. And, apparently, Caroline says the mark-up is quite significant.’

Unsurprisingly, it had been her organised friend who had found the time to investigate the business side of the idea. She had showed
Charley flow-charts and profit projections.

‘But I can’t own any business whilst I’m still bankrupt,’ Charley had told her.

‘You’ve got to think long-term,’ said Caroline.

Charley couldn’t even dare to think beyond the following week.

‘And there’s no competition to speak of,’ said her father, nodding thoughtfully.

‘Apart from that ghastly ice-cream man,’ said her mother.

They all shuddered
in unison. Wayne’s Whippy was a new ice-cream van which had suddenly appeared at the beginning of summer. Wayne was a rough guy from the depths of Lower Grove whose business style was somewhat aggressive. The police were already handling dozens of complaints about his extra loud music and forceful selling technique.

‘But what about the money for ingredients?’ asked Charley’s father. ‘Surely the
initial layout will be expensive.’

‘It’s already covered,’ she said.

Julie was doing a roaring trade on eBay with Charley’s collection of designer handbags and shoes. As she had ransacked her wardrobe, Charley had been ashamed to find that most of them were barely used. So she collected up all the items she knew she was only keeping because of their designer label and bagged them up. It was
a gamble because this really was the end of it. After that, there was nothing. No savings. Nothing else to sell. She was just hoping that people would come in to buy the ice-cream and that the mark-up that Caroline had proposed would repay the outlay.

But before any ice-cream could be made, the shop needed a complete overhaul. Julie had made her a set of keys so Charley had let herself in one
Saturday morning and stood in the middle of the floor. She turned in a slow circle, realising the place was in a far worse state than she had remembered.

She let her shoulders slump, suddenly overwhelmed by the dirt and frightened by the responsibility. This had been a stupid, terrible idea. Who was she to think that this would work, that people would want to come in here and buy her ice-cream?
Who on earth would want to bring their family into this dirty, filthy place to buy food of all things? What if her business skills were worse than Steve’s? What if she failed?

Charley wrapped her arms around herself, desperately willing optimism back into her bloodstream. She took a few deep breaths. People would want her ice-cream, she told herself. Hadn’t Mrs Trimble and her friends already
raved about it? Surely they wouldn’t buy it if it tasted bad?

She walked over to the window and tore down the layers of posters from the glass. Down came the faded, brown paper and in came the warm July sunshine. She turned round to find the room bathed in light. The sun may have accentuated the dirt and cobwebs but it also made her see the potential in the place. At once, the room felt bigger,
wider and more inviting.

And then she got to work. With Julie stuck at home with the puppy, Samantha obsessed with her boyfriend and Caroline stricken with morning sickness, it was down to Charley to get the place spick and span. It was exhausting, filthy work but there was something satisfying in taking such a woeful place and seeing it slowly come back to life.

That weekend, she’d spent the
whole time scrubbing and cleaning the shop counters, floors, walls and ice-cream cabinet. By Sunday night, it was at least sanitary. She would keep wiping and disinfecting it at every opportunity until she was happy to allow her food into the shop.

During the evenings and following weekend, Charley then scrubbed every inch of the kitchen including the fridge and freezers. Both were a good size
and would be large enough for her to make up significant amounts of the ice-cream there.

It was thrilling, fun and totally exhausting. She cleaned for her customers each day and then cleaned and scrubbed the shop every evening.

Once the place was ready, she invited the girls back.

‘It looks bigger now,’ said Julie.

‘You’ve done a great job,’ said Caroline. ‘You must be shattered.’

‘I thought
the two ice-cream counters should be back here, in a right-angle.’ Charley led them towards the rear of the shop. ‘The big one along this side wall and the smaller one along the back. Another counter over on that side for weighing sweets, and the cash register. I still want all the tubs of sweets stacked on to shelves up the wall behind the till.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Julie. ‘That’s how it’s always
been.’

‘What about the rest of the place?’ said Caroline, looking at the front half of the shop. ‘You’ve still got quite a bit of space.’

‘I was thinking of a few tables and chairs against that far wall. You know, for when the weather turns bad.’

‘We’ve got some plastic chairs and tables you can borrow,’ said Caroline. ‘They’re only for the garden anyway.’

‘We just need the ice-cream and we’re
away,’ said Julie, with a smile.

Charley nodded. She was shattered but knew they had to open up before summer passed by. It was nearly the middle of July but that still gave her two months of summer trade. Then who knew what would happen? But she didn’t dare plan that far ahead.

NOW THAT THE
shop was clean, Charley’s biggest dilemma was which flavours of ice-cream to serve.

‘Okay,’ said Caroline, sucking on the end of a pen whilst running through the list she had written. ‘I’ve got the plain versions of vanilla, strawberry, raspberry, chocolate and white chocolate.’

‘Ooh, and toffee,’ said Julie.

‘Right,’ said Caroline, adding it to her list. ‘Then
I’ve got the sorbets: strawberry, lemon, passion fruit and mango.’

‘I’ve been thinking about experimenting with a chocolate sorbet,’ said Charley. ‘You know, so it’s not so heavy.’

‘Maybe you could play around with the flavours at a later stage,’ said Caroline.

‘Yeah,’ agreed Julie. ‘Because the private schools are finishing this week and you want to catch the start of the school holidays.’

‘What about some different flavours?’ asked Caroline.

‘Rum and raisin,’ Charley told her. ‘Chocolate ripple, coconut, coffee, and the chocolate ginger recipe I made for you.’

‘What happened with that chocolate rocky road flavour?’

Charley grimaced. ‘Bit of a disaster, actually. The marshmallows froze solid. It was very bad. Best leave that off the menu until I’ve got the hang of it.’

‘Well,
the rest sound great,’ said Julie, glancing across to Samantha. ‘What do you think?’

She looked up from her iPhone. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘But . . .’

‘But what?’ said Charley sharply.

‘It’s all a bit boring, isn’t it?’

The others took a deep intake of breath.

‘What do you mean?’ said Charley, her fledgling confidence waning. ‘Boring?’

‘I mean, couldn’t you have a few more interesting flavours?
You know, other than for the kiddie market. When I was in Ibiza, they had Red Bull flavour and bubblegum. That kind of thing.’

Caroline made a face. ‘Sounds gross.’

Samantha shrugged her shoulders. ‘But at least it’s not too old-fashioned. I mean, you’ve got to cater for everyone, haven’t you?’ She glanced at her phone. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ve a hair appointment.’

She kissed them all on
the cheek before heading out.

Charley sighed as she peered over Caroline’s shoulder at the list. ‘She’s right. They’re all a bit boring.’

‘Traditional,’ said Caroline in a firm tone of voice.

‘Look,’ said Julie, ‘you’ve got to cater for your target audience and that’s families. Kids are picky and they’ll want nice, safe flavours.’

‘Exactly,’ said Caroline, nodding. ‘Besides, I was reading
recently on-line about premium brands and how you should never dilute them down. The idea is quality, not quantity. That’s what people will warm to.’

‘Home-made and delicious,’ said Julie. ‘But throw in a few wacky ones, if you want. Just to mix it up a bit.’

‘You’ve got thirty tubs to fill in that counter,’ said Caroline. ‘You can always mix and match.’

Charley nodded, making a mental note
to research a couple of unusual flavours.

‘I’ve got the whiteboard in the back of the car,’ said Julie.

She had managed to save one that was being thrown out after some recent office renovations at work.

‘I’ve got the posters for the shop windows,’ said Caroline, waving a folder. ‘And the tubs and cones are on order and should be arriving tomorrow.’

They were both doing so much for her. Charley
had no idea how she was ever going to repay them. Free ice-cream for ever?

After they had left, Charley went back into the kitchen. She had a few more days left to make the stock and then that was it. It had been announced in the local paper that the ice-cream shop would open the following Saturday.

There was no going back now.

THE MORE JULIE
read through
How to Take Care of Your Puppy
, the more out of her depth she found herself.

She wasn’t just taking care of a puppy, it seemed. She had responsibility for a living, breathing thing whose brain was fully formed at six months. After that, any new information or instructions were open to failure so the first six months were crucial. And it was up to
Julie to get the puppy up to speed before handing it over, preferably to the first available person.

Caroline had insisted that she was still checking out the families who were willing to take Boris into their home, but that these things took time. In the meantime, he was Julie’s responsibility.

At nearly four months, all of Boris’ energy was going into a massive growth spurt. He was changing
shape weekly, gradually becoming larger. His legs were getting longer which meant he could now reach new and exciting places, such as the sofa, the stairs and, consequently, Julie’s bed.

‘Get off!’ she found herself shouting, finding Boris sprawled there.

He had stared up at her, his large black eyes as sad as he could make them as he crept down on to the floor. A coating of fluffy puppy fur
remained on the bed behind him.

Each day she practised the sit command and, very slowly, Boris began to be trained. He would now sit whilst being handed his meals and when waiting for his lead to be put on, instead of leaping up in a frenzied playful attack.

Walking on the lead took more time but, with the help of some cold hot-dog sausages, she could at least walk down the road without him
bucking like a rodeo horse.

Letting him off the lead to run about was a little more problematic. The puppy book told Julie that it would be all right, but she wasn’t convinced.

‘What if he runs off and I can’t find him?’ she said.

Caroline didn’t reply as they walked towards the heath, watching Flora scamper ahead.

The heathland was an open space full of the heather, pine and birch coppices
over which much of Upper Grove had been built. But the council had insisted on a couple of miles of heath remaining as a sanctuary for the local wildlife.

Julie liked the ease of access, as one of the many entrances to the reserve was at the end of her avenue. But she worried about taking the dog somewhere unfenced and had roped in Caroline to help bring Boris back, in case he made a bid for
freedom once off the lead. Charley was still frantically making ice-cream in time for the grand opening of the shop.

Boris scampered through the woods, the long cord of his retractable lead getting wrapped about bushes and trees. In the end, Julie knew she just had to be brave.

‘Set the beast free,’ said Caroline, looking around. ‘There’s no one in sight.’

Julie nodded. ‘Okay. Let’s do it.’

She brought Boris closer to her and released the catch on his lead. At once the dog began to gambol around the woods in utter joy and abandonment.

‘Aww, he’s so sweet,’ said Caroline.

She glanced at Julie who was not smiling, however. She was glancing around in total panic in case there were any other dogs, other owners, or just anything that could entice Boris away from her.

But as they gradually
began to walk a little further into the heathland Boris kept trotting back to her, lured initially by the treats in Julie’s coat pocket then by some inner instinct. Eventually she began to relax.

Caroline suddenly stopped and began to go pale.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Julie, touching her shoulder.

‘Just feel a bit sick again,’ muttered Caroline, bending over. ‘This is the worst pregnancy
ever.’

‘Do you want to go back?’

She nodded.

‘We’ll come.’

Caroline shook her head. ‘Don’t ruin your first walk with Boris. I’ll be fine. I just don’t think I can go any further.’

‘Okay. If you’re sure. I’ll text you later.’

Julie waved at Flora as they left and then she was alone. She walked slowly along the path, glancing around her, but Boris kept within sight. She was just relaxing when
she turned round a bend in the track and almost bumped into Wes the vet.