The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (12 page)

But she was surprised and extremely embarrassed
to be discovered by him in her new role as domestic staff.

‘Hi,’ said Charley with a shy smile.

‘Hello.’ Mike looked equally surprised to find her there.

They had occasionally bumped into each other in the village but never exchanged anything more than a passing nod and greeting. Working together would mean having whole conversations with each other.

‘This is my new cleaner,’ said Mrs Wilberforce,
pouring out the tea. ‘It’s the first day for both of you.’

Mike stared at Charley for a few seconds before lowering his eyes and going over to the counter to pick up his cup of tea.

‘Thank you,’ he said. His huge hands made the cup look doll-sized, she noticed.

‘How are you getting on?’ Mrs Wilberforce asked him.

He took a long swig of tea before replying. ‘You’ve lost a couple of roses but
I’ve pruned the rest back hard. Should come on a treat this summer.’

‘Well done,’ she told him. ‘Let me fetch you a chocolate biscuit. I think I left them by the bed last night.’

There was a silence as she began her slow journey upstairs, leaving them alone.

Charley glanced at Mike, thinking how rarely she actually saw him, despite the fact that they both lived in the village. Mike lived in
a small cottage on the outskirts, nowhere near Upper Grove and the life that she led. Or rather, used to lead.

She had forgotten how tall he was. He had to be well over six foot. Perhaps it was all the fresh air.

She found herself blushing as she realised he was studying her in return with his dark eyes.

Charley shuffled from foot to foot under his scrutiny.

‘So you’re a cleaner?’ He was unable
to hide the surprise in his deep voice.

‘That’s right,’ said Charley, suddenly feeling defensive. ‘Just one of many personal goals I’ve achieved so far this year.’

‘What are the others?’ asked Mike, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Was he laughing at her? At the ghastly situation she had found herself in?

‘Bankruptcy, losing my house and finding my husband with another woman,’
she snapped in reply.

His smile faded. ‘Really?’

Charley sighed. ‘Yes.’

‘I’d only heard about the house and bankruptcy.’

Charley waited for words of commiseration and comfort, especially about the demise of her marriage. But they didn’t come and the silence stretched out between them.

Thankfully they were interrupted by the arrival of the chocolate biscuits. ‘Here we are,’ said Mrs Wilberforce,
holding out the packet to them both.

Charley took a couple of digestives with a smile of thanks. They were stale but chocolate was chocolate.

‘I’d better get on,’ said Mike, finishing his tea in one swift movement.

He grabbed a couple of biscuits before heading back out into the garden, without so much as a backward glance in Charley’s direction.

She felt rattled as she went back to the drawing
room to finish cleaning. Okay, so she and Mike weren’t exactly close, but they had known each other since they were five years old. They used to play at each other’s house when they were very young. A little sympathy wouldn’t have gone amiss, she thought. After all, she would have done the same thing if the tables were turned. Not that she knew that much about Mike’s love life or finances.

Enraged
by his unsympathetic attitude, she cleaned furiously and an hour later her work was done. The room was a warm inviting place once more.

‘What a wonderful job you’ve done,’ said Mrs Wilberforce with tears in her eyes. ‘I haven’t seen the place look this good for years.’

Charley sighed with a small sense of satisfaction. She had survived her first week at work and made someone happy. If only she
could say the same of herself.

THE GIRLS CAME
over to see the flat on Friday evening, the idea being to give her new home a housewarming. Charley figured it would be better to set light to the whole place. It seemed a lifetime ago that she had prepared for a girls’ night in by purchasing expensive roses and scented candles to set the mood. It was hardly the same in her damp-ridden flat. But then, nothing
was the same for her any more. The most upsetting thing was that she hadn’t been able to make any ice-cream.

Charley had found out to her cost that wooden floorboards had been installed in the flat above. Every noise was magnified tenfold. Footsteps, furniture scraping along the floor, dropped objects.

‘What are they doing up there?’ asked Julie, walking into the lounge. ‘Auditioning for
Riverdance
?’

‘You get used to it,’ lied Charley, turning up the radio for some background noise.

‘This is, er . . .’ Samantha stopped and looked around her. She was unable to disguise the horror on her face as she took in the flat. Finally she broke into a smile. ‘Let’s unscrew that wine, eh?’

Once poured, they clinked their wine glasses together and tried to act normal.

‘To the future,’ said Caroline.

‘And may Steve’s be absolutely rotten,’ said Julie.

Charley sighed.

‘It must have been horrible for you, finding them together like that?’ said Caroline.

Charley shrugged her shoulders. ‘It wasn’t a Kodak moment, that’s for sure.’

‘I hear the Caribbean is rubbish this time of year anyway,’ said Samantha.

‘Start of the hurricane season, isn’t it?’ said Julie. ‘The hotel will probably be as
flat as a pancake by now.’

‘And real tans are out,’ said Caroline, whose pale skin never went dark, thanks to Factor 50. ‘Better to fake it anyway.’

Samantha just managed to stop herself from telling them about the long weekend in Ibiza that she’d booked with some of her female work colleagues.

‘So how’s the cleaning?’ asked Julie.

Charley rolled her eyes. ‘Exhausting.’

The others shook their
heads in sympathy.

‘With the added joy of bumping into old school chums,’ she said with a groan.

Caroline frowned. ‘Who?’

‘Mike Shearer, of all people.’

‘Aww!’ cooed Caroline. ‘He was always so sweet at school. You were too busy getting off with Steve behind the bike shed to notice.’

Charley’s reply caught in her throat at the mention of her husband’s name.

‘Mike went to agricultural college,
I think,’ said Caroline. ‘Got his own business now. Doing really well, from what I hear.’

‘He must be the same Mike I know at the gardening club,’ said Julie. ‘Tall and dark-haired?’

Caroline nodded. ‘And with a great body!’

‘Oooh,’ said Samantha, her eyes lighting up. ‘Handsome?’

‘No,’ said Charley at the same time as Caroline and Julie said, ‘Yes.’

‘Come on,’ urged Caroline. ‘You must at
least admit he’s good-looking?’

Charley shrugged her shoulders. ‘He doesn’t really compare with Steve.’

The others exchanged glances before looking at Charley sympathetically.

‘You’ll get over him,’ said Julie in a gentle tone. ‘In time.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ replied Charley.

‘Ice-cream will help,’ said Caroline. ‘Have you made any?’

Charley shook her head. ‘Too tired, too broke, and the freezer
section at the top of the fridge is too small.’

‘Just enough room for a small taster,’ urged Julie. ‘How about it?’

But Charley had no inclination to do any kind of cooking. Most evenings she slumped in her armchair, staring at the small television. Tired from a day’s cleaning, she normally cooked herself a bowl of pasta with a tin of tomatoes poured on top. It was hardly nouvelle cuisine, but
she didn’t care. What was the point of making an effort when there was only her to cook for?

Besides, her lovely ice-cream maker had left along with the bailiffs.

No, her ice-cream days were definitely behind her.

BACK AT MISS
Fuller’s house, Charley had just finished mopping the kitchen when a small dachshund called Desmond trotted through the back door and across the floor, leaving a perfect set of dirty pawprints behind him.

Charley thought it was a good thing that she was an animal lover otherwise Desmond could easily have ended up in her father’s workshop.

On Tuesday morning she
had to drive into Upper Grove, although thankfully to a different road from the one on which she had lived until a few short weeks previously.

The reminder did little to lighten her mood, especially when she met her new customer. It hadn’t been instant dislike on Charley’s part. It had taken as long as thirty seconds perhaps.

She didn’t know why Mrs Smith irritated her so much. Perhaps it was
the ridiculous new home which had been built in the style of a Spanish villa. Maybe it looked all right when the sun was shining, but on a dismal April morning the pristine white villa appeared as fake as Mrs Smith’s generous chest.

And then there had been the name. ‘It’s pronounced Smythe.’

Charley watched Mrs Smith swan off to her fitness class and was about to close the back door when she
spotted someone striding across the garden. With Grove Village not being the largest place in England, perhaps Charley should have expected that trained gardeners would be thin on the ground. But she had not reckoned on coming face to face with this one so soon after their last meeting.

‘Hello again,’ said Mike, with a nod.

Charley stood aside as he stepped in through the back door. ‘Hi.’

‘I thought I recognised your Mini on the driveway.’

Charley rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, yes. There’s only one like it in the world. I hope.’

Mike followed her into the kitchen. Most customers were happy for Charley to help herself to a hot drink. Some days it was the only thing that kept her going.

Mike nodded at the empty garage viewed through the kitchen window. ‘Where’s she gone this morning?’

‘Pilates.’

He gave a snort of derision. ‘Isn’t that some kind of Greek bread?’

Charley smiled as she poured hot water into two mugs. ‘So the gardening business is going well?’

‘Thanks,’ he said, taking the mug from her. ‘Yes. Can’t say it was easy in the early days, but I’m doing okay.’

She didn’t offer any information about herself. She was cleaning other people’s houses. Her situation was
obvious enough.

Thankfully her mobile rang so Mike gave her a nod and headed outside while she answered it.

‘Hey. It’s me.’

Her heart lurched at the sound of Steve’s voice. It was the first time they had spoken in a couple of weeks.

She tried to keep her voice level. ‘How are you?’

He gave a sigh. ‘Not great.’

‘That makes two of us,’ she snapped, before instantly regretting her words. Now
wasn’t the time for nagging. Especially if he had missed her enough to call.

‘The doctor’s put me on antidepressants,’ said Steve.

‘Oh dear.’

Charley was trying to work up the strength to feel sorry for him, but all she could think was that he hadn’t even asked about her, about how she was.

‘You’re not making this easy for me,’ her husband told her.

Charley tutted in exasperation. ‘What do
you expect?’

‘I did apologise, if you remember.’

‘No. I don’t, as it happens.’ Her tone began to harden. ‘I don’t think you ever said sorry for anything. For the money you borrowed from my parents. For losing the roof over our heads. For any of it.’

He heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘This obviously isn’t a good time for me to have called.’

‘I haven’t had a good time since you spent all of our money
and then cheated on me,’ she snapped.

‘Look . . .’ he began.

‘No, you look!’ Charley’s voice had risen above shrill. ‘I’m here, slogging my guts out cleaning other people’s toilets, for God’s sake! I’m trying to make enough so I can pay back the money you took from my parents. And I’m having to do it all by myself, because
you’re not here
!’ Her voice was now so high it was possible only dogs
could hear her. ‘You haven’t even asked about me, have you? No, as always it’s all about you. It’s always been about you! You broke my heart, stole my parents’ life savings, wasted all of our money . . . and now you’ve got the nerve to ring up because
you’re
the one that’s depressed!’

Charley gave a frustrated scream and threw the phone across the room, narrowly missing Mike who had come back
into the kitchen to drop off his empty mug.

He raised his eyebrows at her and opened his mouth as if to speak. But seeing her irate expression, he quickly changed his mind and left.

Charley was left to stomp about the kitchen in a rage, before grabbing the mop and bucket to clean the floor. She slopped the damp mop against the tiles with a smack, shaking with fury as she swished it to and fro.

Steve was a liar, a rat, and she wanted nothing to do with him ever again. He and that trollop deserved each other.

Halfway across the floor she stopped and let the pain wash over her for a moment. He was still her husband and she missed him, despite his many faults. She missed him so much she ached.

Her tears splashed on to the floor. She began to move the mop around once more until they had
disappeared.

BY THE END
of the week, Charley felt as low as she had ever done. The fresh misery caused by Steve’s phone call hung over her like a cloud. The cleaning had been exhausting and demeaning. Her husband had not called her back or even sent a text. She had hidden from Mike in the downstairs bathroom that afternoon at Mrs Wilberforce’s house, not able to face any questions about
Steve.

Charley blinked away a tear and pulled down the kitchen blind before washing up her solitary plate. She missed her dishwasher, her six-ring hob, even the microwave. She missed everything from her previous life, but especially the food.

Having bought some basics and topped up the electric meter, she only had £14.50 left in her purse to last her the weekend. Everything was now paid for
in cash, including the rent. Using an electricity meter had been an eye-opening experience. Now she made sure that every wall socket was turned off when not in use. She could see the meter count rising if even her mobile was charging, so nothing was left on standby.