Wonder Women (28 page)

The shop was quiet after he'd gone, so she took his card into the back room and googled him. He worked for an investment bank and was obviously successful. She couldn't begin to understand what the investment bank did, but she was fairly sure that they didn't put money into one-woman businesses in East Finchley. It all seemed very strange. When Mel came in at midday, she didn't mention Richard's visit, just filled her in on a delivery they were expecting that afternoon and set off to fetch the kids. To be honest, she wasn't sure what Richard saw in the shop that made him
want to invest in it. They had been quiet for all of January so far, and Jo was actually quite worried. They would just about break even that month – that is, she would be able to pay her suppliers and a wage to Holly and Mel – but only if she took nothing out herself. It wasn't like she was sitting on a secret gold mine.

That evening after the kids were in bed, she curled up next to Lee on the sofa. ‘I had the oddest experience today,' she began, and told him about Richard coming to the shop and what he had said.

‘So he said “help”,' said Lee. ‘That was the word he used?'

‘Yes, why?'

‘He didn't say he wants to invest in the business.'

‘No.'

‘Well, it all sounds a bit odd. Like you say, it's not like the shop is bringing in millions. You're doing okay, but not brilliantly.'

‘I know.'

‘What's your gut feeling?'

‘He seemed genuine. It's an odd thing to say about a banker, but it didn't feel like he was feeding me a line.'

‘So what's his motivation?'

‘I don't know. Maybe I should speak to Louise about it, see what she says.'

‘Well, if you think it wouldn't put her in an awkward position, maybe that's a good idea.'

The next day, Mel was on the morning shift, so Jo was at home and she rang Louise's mobile. Louise didn't answer, so she left a brief message asking her to call back, but without saying why. Louise rang back within the hour.

‘So sorry I didn't pick up,' she began. ‘Tiny baby, poo explosion. I'm sure you know what I mean. I had to shower her down and change all her clothes, then clean the bathroom. Life with small children is so glamorous.'

Jo laughed. ‘Been there, done that.'

‘So how are you? How's business?' Louise asked. Jo listened to see if there was a hint of extra meaning in the question, but it just seemed a friendly and genuine enquiry.

‘Okay. Good December, quiet January,' said Jo.

‘Well, nobody has it easy right now,' said Louise. ‘Belts are tight, people aren't spending much. Keep your costs down, keep marketing like mad and hope for the best, that's all I can say.'

There was no doubt Louise had no idea about Richard. Either that or she was a very good actress, and from what little Jo knew about her, that just wasn't her. What she'd liked about Louise from the start was her direct manner and honesty.

‘Louise, this isn't just a social call. I had a visitor at the shop yesterday, and I wanted to talk to you about it. It was your brother-in-law, Richard.'

‘Richard?' If Jo had had any doubts left, they were dispelled by the surprise in Louise's voice. She clearly had no idea. Jo ran through what Richard had said to her, and Louise listened without asking any questions. When Jo had finished, she said, ‘I'm going to give Richard a call, and I'll ring you back.'

She was true to her word, and rang back within ten minutes. ‘Richard genuinely does want to get involved in your business. It's not for the bank. It's in his personal capacity.'

‘What do you think I should do?' asked Jo.

‘I can't advise you on that. All I can say is this: Richard's a banker by trade, but he's not a bullshit artist. He is genuinely interested. The question is, is it what you're looking for? Only you know the answer to that.'

Until she heard what he was offering, Jo didn't know the answer, but it seemed Holly did. When she tentatively told Holly and Mel the next day, Holly just stared at her.

‘What? Are you sure? Are you sure he wants to buy in?'

‘I'm not sure about anything. And I won't be, unless I go to the meeting and see what he has to say.'

‘Please, Jo, please be careful. Don't agree to anything, don't shake on anything and don't give him too much information. Not before you've put any proposal he has in front of a lawyer.'

Jo smiled. ‘I'll be careful, I promise.'

‘I'm sorry, it's just … I had a business. I let someone buy into it and I lost everything.'

‘I don't know what this guy wants to give us. It might not be an offer of money at all. He just said “help”. And I know it ended badly for you, but it doesn't mean every experience will be like that.'

‘I know,' said Holly, calming down slightly. ‘It just … well, the idea of it freaks me out.'

‘I understand,' said Jo. ‘But at the very least, I want to hear him out. For his family connection to Louise, if nothing else.'

‘It does seem odd to me,' ventured Mel. ‘I kind of remember him from the launch day, and the description you give makes him sound like a banker wanker, if you'll
pardon the expression. What interest could he possibly have in a little suburban shop, miles from where he lives?'

‘I don't know,' said Jo. ‘When you put it like that, it does seem strange. But I won't know unless I talk to him, will I?'

She rang Richard's secretary, who set up a lunch date for the end of that week. Lee took a day off work so she could go and not worry about the time and picking up the kids. In the morning, Jo took herself off to the hairdressers and had a blow-dry and a manicure, to give herself a little polish and courage. She dug out a suit from her working days, a classic Chanel-style knee-length skirt and cropped jacket in a dusty pink. Thankfully, it still fitted her. Discreet make-up, pearl earrings, low-heeled but elegant shoes, and she was ready to go. Lee, who was sitting on the floor doing play-dough with Imogene, gave a low whistle when she walked into the living room.

‘Bloody hell. You're working that sexy businesswoman look,' he said, and stood up to look at her more closely, then drew her into his arms. He kissed her softly and whispered, ‘Don't be in a hurry to take that off when you get home. You look delicious.'

‘Mamma!' gurgled Imogene and toddled up, her doughy hands reaching for Jo's skirt. Lee broke free and snatched her up in his arms, covering her little face in kisses. ‘All right, little miss, let's let Mummy go to her meeting without play-dough accessories. See you later, love. Knock 'em dead. Oh, by the way … do you want to take my iPad?'

‘And do what? Show him how good I am at playing Fruit Ninja? Let him watch an episode of
Bob the Builder
?'

‘I don't know … I just thought it would make you look professional.'

‘It would, if I had some whizzy presentation of the figures with pie charts and stuff, but I don't. I just have my little balance sheet, and a folder of press cuttings.'

‘That sounds fantastic,' said Lee firmly and loyally. ‘Now go. Take the car and park at the station so you don't have to walk in those shoes. If we go anywhere it'll be to the park, and we'll walk there. And have fun.'

He held Imogene off to one side so she couldn't touch Jo, and leaned in to kiss Jo softly at first and then very much more passionately. ‘Now go, before I put a DVD on for the kids and rumple your suit.'

Jo giggled. ‘Why, Mr Hockley, you've still got it. You've made my knees go all funny. I'm quite collywobbled.'

She blew a kiss to Imogene, who wasn't particularly interested in her departure, blew Lee a saucy kiss over her shoulder and headed out of the door.

Lee

Lee sat back down on the floor, put Imogene on his lap and reached for a lump of play-dough. ‘All right, lovely, what do you want Daddy to make now?'

‘Poo!' said Imogene delightedly.

‘Well, that shouldn't stretch Daddy's artistic talents too much. I can manage that.'

They played contentedly for a while longer, then Lee read Imogene a couple of books. She went soft and quiet in his
arms so he knew she was getting tired. He changed her and gave her some milk, and she curled up obediently in her little toddler bed for a nap. He tidied the house and made a plate of sandwiches for lunch. He checked his watch, and there was a good hour before he had to go and pick Zach up from nursery. He knew Imi would sleep until he transferred her into the pushchair to walk to Zach's school. He had an hour. A perfect, silent, uninterrupted hour at home, and he could do anything he liked.

He quite fancied sitting on the sofa and surfing the TV channels, or reading a magazine, but those pursuits seemed too mundane for such rare and precious time, so instead he dug in his desk drawers and found his old college pencil case. Inside were some ancient charcoal sticks. He took out a few sheets of textured drawing paper and found a board to press on, and then sneaked into Imogene's room and sat on the edge of the armchair where Jo used to breastfeed. He looked at his daughter's perfect face, her little lips pink and pouted in sleep, the sweep of lashes touching the swell of her cheek and her rather dramatic dark brows curved under the mad tangle of her hair. He began to draw, trying to capture the essence of her face with the charcoal lines. The first drawing was a disaster. It was stiff and wooden, and it made Imi look like a rather scary doll. He tried again, remembering the feel of the charcoal in his hand, and finding the natural arc as he drew. The result was slightly better, and he felt he had caught the shape of her mouth particularly well, but the hair wasn't right and her eyebrows looked wonky.

The third drawing was better still, but, Lee felt, too fussy and mannered. He did a series of five more, and with each
he tried to capture the essence of Imogene's face with fewer and fewer lines. Some of them worked, some of them didn't. He suddenly glanced at the clock and realised that they had to leave in ten minutes. He put his drawing things away in his desk. He knew from experience that he would need to leave the drawings for a little while before he looked at them again to get a real sense of whether they were any good. He washed his hands and got the pushchair ready, then gently scooped a sleepy Imogene up and slipped her into the cosy cocoon of the pushchair. He pulled a woolly hat on to her head, yanked on his coat and a scarf and set off to walk to Zach's school. It didn't matter if the drawings were terrible, he realised as he walked in the crisp, cold sunshine. He had just spent the most fulfilling and creatively satisfying hour he had had for ages.

The weather was too cold for the park, so they came home for sandwiches and then Lee and Zach played an indoor ball game with a pair of Lee's rolled-up football socks, while Imi giggled and was the piggy in the middle. Later, he bundled them both up and they walked to the shop to get a few things for dinner. It was almost four o'clock, and while Lee wasn't worried, he was aware that lunch would be long over and he hadn't had a text or call from Jo. He hoped it was because it was all going so well, and not because she was depressed and wandering the streets of London alone.

He took a moment to check his work email. There was very little, not just because everyone knew he was out of the office, but because things at work were quiet. Not just quiet, worryingly silent. Custom typography was a luxury, and in these economic times, one that many companies
were having to forego. A beautiful individual typeface or logo was a lovely thing, but when marketing and advertising budgets were being slashed, losing that was an easy way to trim costs. The company had seen a marked decline in their revenue over the previous year, and Lee knew his bosses were worried. They'd already had to let three junior designers go, and Lee was under no illusion that his job was secure. If he lost it, what would he do? The shop wasn't bringing in anything like enough money; he knew Jo hadn't paid herself anything at the end of January. He'd have to find work, and find it fast. There was usually graphic-design freelancing to be had, but it would mean a lot of travelling and working in strange offices, and there was no guarantee of work. Well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

As he shut down his email, his phone rang. It was Jo, sounding breathless, obviously calling as she walked along. ‘Hi, love, so, so sorry,' she began. ‘I've just left the restaurant and there just wasn't a chance to nip out and ring you earlier.'

‘No worries, everything's fine here. The kids are playing a game that involves a cardboard box and two wooden spoons. No injuries so far, but lots of laughing. How did it go?'

‘It went … wow. Well, it wasn't at all what I expected, and I'm very surprised, but it's a long story. I'll tell you everything when I get home.'

‘But it was good?'

‘I don't know. It could be good, or it could be impossible. There are just so many things … so many problems … Lots of things we need to discuss. Look, I'm sorry I'm being
cryptic, but just let me get home. I'm dying to see you and the kids, and once they're in bed, we can talk.'

It didn't take her too long to get back, and she came through the door, looking beautiful and smelling of the cold and the outside world, just as Lee set plates of dinner in front of the kids. She kissed him, then sat down between the children and helped them with their meal. Zach chattered away nineteen to the dozen about his day, and Imogene banged her spoon and squealed in delight. She managed to flick a baked bean on to Jo's lap. Jo laughed, grabbed a baby wipe and scrubbed the stain off her expensive skirt, then leaned in and kissed Imogene's chubby cheek. Lee watched her and thought he had never loved her more than he did right that minute, his clever, resourceful wife, mother of his precious children and builder of a successful business. He'd known from the first time he'd seen her at that student party all those years ago that she was something special, but he hadn't imagined she'd get more special as the years went by.