The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (37 page)

BOOK: The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan
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‘I can’t believe it was you who suggested my desserts for tonight,’ she blurted out.

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Thought it might help.’

She shook her head in wonder. ‘Why are you being so nice to me?’

She looked deep into his eyes, which was a mistake. In the streetlight, they were the colour of melted plain chocolate and she found she couldn’t look away.

‘Because I thought you needed a friend to help you out,’ he told her.

Charley felt even more despondent. Was that all they were? Friends?

Be brave, she heard Caroline telling
her.

She leant forward and placed her hands against his broad chest. Beneath her fingers, she could feel his heart beating.

‘I want you to know that I’ve drunk a lot of champagne tonight,’ she told him.

‘What are you saying?’

She moved her face closer to his. ‘I’ve drunk a lot of champagne so I can’t be responsible for my actions.’ Her gaze dropped to his mouth. ‘So don’t forget that.’

‘I
won’t,’ he told her, looking bemused by her words.

She reached up and kissed him. She had only meant it to be a brief kiss, something that would prove to her once and for all that they were only meant to be friends. That he meant nothing to her after all. But once their lips had met, she found she couldn’t stop kissing him.

For a brief moment he kissed her back, strong and hard, and she was
lost. But then she found herself being pushed very gently away from him.

‘Charley,’ he murmured, shaking his head.

Her cheeks were flaming with horror. He didn’t want her. He didn’t feel the same way.

‘It was just the champagne,’ she told him, breaking into wide, fake grin. ‘I did warn you! Anyway,’ she carried on, the words coming out in a rush, ‘it’s been a big day so I’ll say goodnight.’

He watched her until she finally managed on the third attempt to get the key into the lock.

‘Goodnight,’ he said in a soft tone.

‘Goodnight,’ she called over her shoulder, unable to face making eye contact with him.

Closing the door to the flat behind her, Charley leant back against it. She brought her hands up to her lips. The kiss had been, oh, so sweet. But only for her, it seemed.

She put
her hands over her eyes and began to cry.

Chapter Eighty-seven

IT WASN’T POSSIBLE
to feel this bad without being dead, decided Charley.

She had barely been able to drag herself out of bed and had only made it as far as the kitchen so far. She was on her second cup of coffee and her third piece of toast. That helped repair much of the physical damage from the previous evening’s champagne. However, the mental wounds were still gaping.

Oh, yes, it was all coming back to her now, detail by horrifying detail. She had rejected Steve, that was good. Her ice-cream had, hopefully, been a success. That was even better. But Mike . . . Her lovely, wonderful, handsome Mike. She touched her lips briefly as she remembered kissing him. She couldn’t stop seeing him shaking his head at her as he had pushed her away. He probably still thought
she was a spoilt brat, miserable because she was no longer rich. Maybe he was even laughing to himself that morning about just how drunk she had been.

Her heart was broken. More so than it had been with Steve, she knew. Mike was worth a thousand Steves.

Maybe he had called or texted her. Even a message of friendship would be better than nothing. She felt a tiny flicker of hope as she picked
up the evening handbag slung on the floor in the hallway where she had left it the previous night

But the screen on her phone showed only two missed phone calls from Caroline.

‘Hi,’ she said when Charley rang her back. ‘How’s the head?’

Charley slumped into her armchair. ‘Like it’s still trying to reject the rest of my body.’

‘Good night, was it?’

‘Far too much champagne.’

‘No wonder I can’t
get hold of Julie either.’

Charley shook her head and then decided that was a very bad idea. ‘She disappeared quite early on.’

‘Any gossip I should know about?’

‘I think she was with Wes.’

‘Excellent!’ said Caroline. ‘But I meant you.’

‘Nothing,’ said Charley with a sigh.

‘You’re lying. But for now, tell me about the ice-cream. I’ve already had an email from Lady Beckenham to say how thrilled
they were with the desserts.’

Charley closed her eyes, trying to hold back her emotions. It was all because of Mike that she had been given the business at Grove Castle in the first place.

‘Hello?’ called Caroline down the line. ‘Did you hear what I said? You’re going to be very busy from now on.’

Charley clutched her head. ‘Can I have a couple of days off first to recover?’

‘I don’t see why
not,’ Caroline told her. ‘You’ve been working seven day weeks for months. Give yourself a bit of time off. Recharge the batteries before all the new orders come flooding in, especially after everyone hears about Lady Beckenham’s recommendation.’

‘That food critic from the newspaper was there too, apparently.’

‘Okay,’ said Caroline, sounding a little more unsure. ‘Well, I’m sure that will be
all right.’

‘I hope so.’

Once Caroline had said goodbye, Charley shuffled into the kitchen once more to consider another piece of toast. She really hadn’t eaten an awful lot at the Valentine’s Ball, which might not be helping the headache disappear.

She clicked a piece of bread into the toaster and waited whilst it warmed up. She stared vacantly at the free local newspaper which had appeared
the previous day on her front doormat and had only got as far as being thrown into the kitchen by Julie when she had arrived.

Charley picked up the paper to flick idly through the pages, anything to take her mind off Mike. But an envelope wafted on to the floor as she moved the newspaper.

Thinking it was probably one of those blank mailshots, she gave it a cursory glance. But it was an official-looking
letter, in a typed envelope addressed to her. It must have been hidden under the freebie newspaper the whole of the previous day. Charley bent down to retrieve it from the floor, her head immediately feeling like it would burst into flames.

She stared at the envelope as she straightened up. It looked official. Scary, even. God, she didn’t need any bad news today.

But when she ripped open the
envelope, she found it was from the Official Receiver. The representative of the bankruptcy court had concluded his enquiries into her affairs and would file a notice of early discharge in court.

The court date was the following Tuesday. In two days’ time, Charley would be free from the bankruptcy which had hung over her for nearly ten months.

She continued to stare at the letter, but the words
swam before her as her eyes filled up with tears. The hangover was all but forgotten.

She was being given a new start. Any future financial mistakes would be down to her, but she knew she wouldn’t be risking anything from now onwards. Financial insecurity had been a dreadful, debilitating feeling that had dragged her down for many months.

She glanced out of the kitchen window and saw brightly
coloured crocuses beginning to appear in the ground outside. Spring was nearly here. A new season for a new start.

She just wished she had Mike to share it with.

Chapter Eighty-eight


IT’S BEGINNING TO
settle,’ said Jeff, looking out of the patio window on Monday afternoon.

The sky was a grey infinity, filled with snow. On the ground, a dusting of white powder was beginning to change the landscape.

‘Flora’s going to want to play outside when she gets home,’ he said. ‘Where are her wellies?’

‘She’s staying at Molly’s house for tea,’ said Caroline.

Jeff spun round in surprise. ‘I thought that was tomorrow?’

‘It was,’ replied Caroline. ‘But my waters just broke.’

His mouth fell open. It was only then that he registered that his wife was wearing her coat.

‘So I’ve rung Molly’s mum and it’s all sorted.’ Caroline was cool and calm.

Jeff, on the other hand, was a bag of nerves as he rushed around the house, checking that the back door was
locked and the door of the wood burning stove was shut tight.

Caroline waited patiently, sitting on the sofa until he was ready. It had been exactly the same when Flora was born.

Eventually, her husband crashed to a halt in front of her, his breathing rapid. ‘Okay,’ he panted. ‘The bags are in the car. The windows are locked. I’ve put the heating on low. I’ve got the car charger for the mobile.
What else do I need?’

Caroline stood up. ‘Me,’ she told him, taking hold of his arm.

He held on to her as they made their slow and steady progress outside into the snow.

‘It’s so pretty,’ said Caroline as she lowered herself into the car.

‘God, I hope we don’t get snowed in on the way,’ moaned Jeff, getting into the driver’s seat.

Caroline smiled. The hospital was only ten minutes away.

She found herself surprisingly relaxed these days. Flora’s trousers had been muddy after their walk the previous day and it didn’t faze her. Nothing did any more. Well, not the small things in life.

She rubbed her extended stomach, eager to meet her new son or daughter. She didn’t care which sex the baby was. As long as he or she was healthy.

If the last nine months had taught her anything, it
was that there was no point in worrying. The baby was coming and that was all that mattered.

The snow squeaked under Julie’s wellington boots as they made their way through it the following morning.

‘So your friend’s okay?’ asked Wes.

They had arranged to meet on the heath that morning for the dog walk.

‘She’s fine, thank goodness. Apparently all the worrying symptoms disappeared now her son
has arrived safely into the world.’

‘Do you want a lift to the hospital later?’ he said. ‘My old Land Rover will be okay in the snow.’

‘Thanks. That would be great.’

As they carried on walking, Julie watched Boris enjoy his first experience of snow. He was bounding about in the foot-deep downfall, leaping around as if on springs. Cadbury, Wes’s brown labrador, was equally excited, catching
the snowballs Wes threw for him. Both dogs’ tails were wagging in unison.

Julie knew how they felt. She too felt excited about the future for the first time in years. Her house had been on the market only a day before a developer had snapped it up at a hugely inflated price. Despite the recession, the land in Upper Grove was still valuable. She had already spotted a small cottage overlooking
the green in Little Grove which should leave her with only a tiny mortgage. The relief of having the financial burden lifted from her was palpable.

And then there was Wes. Perhaps her new start would include him too, if only as a friend. He was thoughtful, kind, and, most importantly in Julie’s eyes, trustworthy.

He had even promised to help her move Uncle Sidney into a small bungalow in a retirement
community village in Little Grove. Sidney had already offered the flat to Julie, who hadn’t been able to take it because it was upstairs with no garden. But she thought it would be perfect for Charley to live in.

Because Julie wasn’t moving anywhere without her beloved Boris. He was older now, nearly nine months old. He was almost fully grown in his body, but his brain and spirit were still pure
puppy. His black eyes remained the same too, soulful, as if ringed by charcoal.

Boris was cuddly but clumsy. His tail could sweep everything from the coffee table in one movement. The house was covered with dog hair, but he was gentle with children. He was eager to please. And he just wanted to be with Julie, every hour of every day.

‘This is awesome,’ said Wes, staring around the heath. ‘We
never had snow Down Under.’

Julie shook her head. ‘Never seeing snow? That’s crazy.’

Yes, there was only one small cloud in her sunny world, she thought. For sure, Wes was lovely but they had only shared one slow dance a few nights previously. Afterwards he had behaved like a perfect gentleman and she really, honestly, appreciated it. But did it mean that he was happy just being friends?

‘No
snowball fights growing up,’ carried on Wes. ‘And what’s this snow angel that everyone goes on about?’

‘You don’t know?’ said Julie, in surprise.

‘Not a clue.’

Julie glanced down at her jeans. Oh, well. She would just have to get changed when she was home. So she dropped to the ground on her back, the snow cold against her legs and back.

‘What are you doing?’ said Wes, laughing as he looked
down at her.

Julie moved her hands and legs across the snow. ‘Making an angel, of course.’

She jumped up and showed him the pattern in the snow where she had just been lying, brushing herself down.

‘There you go. One snow angel!’

But Wes was shaking his head. ‘Nope,’ he told her. ‘I can’t see it. You’ll have to show me again.’

Suddenly he grabbed Julie’s hand before throwing himself on to
the ground, pulling her down on top of him. She lay on her front, the whole length of their bodies touching, their faces inches apart.

‘So how does this work again?’ Wes asked, his tone husky as he stared deep into her eyes.

Then he reached out to touch the back of her head and pulled her down for a long, deep kiss.

When they finally drew apart, Julie was smiling. His kiss had told her everything
she needed to know. His warm smile was everything she needed to see.

They were suddenly interrupted by the dogs throwing themselves on to their owners, desperate to join in this new game in a wet, cold assault of paws and swishing tails.

‘Geroff!’ said Julie, jumping up to shoo them away.

Wes stood up next to her, grabbing her hand to hold as they continued their walk.

Chapter Eighty-nine

CHARLEY’S WEEK HAD
been very quiet. Not only had the snow made driving impossible, the Mini was not exactly cut out for extreme road conditions. But her friends were also quite difficult to get hold of.

Of course, Caroline was in hospital most of the week until she and baby Joshua came home. But Charley also had difficulties talking to Julie whose conversation had become quite
short, sweet and giggly. Charley was pleased for her friends but found herself alone once more.

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