The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (35 page)

‘Eventually you could get your own website,’ said Caroline. ‘Jeff says he can help you with that. Maybe even open the front of the shop as an ice-cream parlour
permanently.’

Charley was beginning to look stressed. ‘I can’t think about that. If it ever happens, that’s way off in the future. Look, I’ve got to concentrate on making those desserts first.’

‘Which is another thing,’ said Caroline. ‘We were looking on-line last night. There’s a second-hand industrial-sized ice-cream maker for sale for £1,500.’

‘I don’t have that kind of money,’ Charley told
her, horrified.

Actually, thanks to the recent flurry of business she had about half that amount put away to give back to her parents.

‘But you’re going to be getting a deposit from Grove Castle,’ Caroline reminded her. ‘Isn’t it worth investing in labour-saving tools?’

‘It’ll help with the amount of ice-cream you’ve got to make for the ball,’ Julie told her. ‘How else are you going to make
it all?’

Charley went into the kitchen to make everyone a cup of tea.

‘She thinks she’s going to fail,’ whispered Julie.

‘I know,’ replied Caroline in a low voice.

‘But I think this is just the beginning.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Caroline.

They nodded at each other in silent agreement. They hadn’t finished with the ice-cream making business quite yet.

THE LARGE COMMERCIAL
ice-cream maker had arrived within a matter of days. It took another day for Charley to work out the measurements for the ingredients as the balance differed from the smaller batches she was used to making.

She had decided on a dark chocolate ripple flavour, with streaks of raspberry puree running through it. The alternative flavour would be marbled vanilla
with swirls of toffee. Finally, she was happy with the look and taste of the recipes.

With only a week to go until the Valentine’s Ball, the tricky task of making and filling the moulds was all that was left.

Many hands make light work, thought Charley as she looked around the kitchen at the back of Sidney’s shop. Julie had taken three days off which, along with the weekend, made five days in
which she would help in the kitchen. Now they were measuring out the ingredients plus preparing the fruit purée and toffee sauce.

Even Charley’s mother and Aunty Peggy were helping, although she had decided it was best if her mother stayed away from the food preparation. Therefore, she and Aunty Peggy were in charge of wrapping long lengths of four-centimetre-wide cardboard with tin foil, ready
to be shaped into moulds. Which left them free to share their gossip with the others.

‘Grove Castle is looking marvellous apparently,’ said Aunty Peggy. ‘The ball is going to be fantastic. And they’re talking about having
Antiques Roadshow
up there next month.’

‘You’ve been there?’ asked Julie, who was washing a large bowl of raspberries ready for puréeing.

‘We bumped into the new housekeeper,’
replied Maureen. ‘She was at Bingo for Singles last night.’

Briefly, the activity in the kitchen halted.

‘You went to a singles event?’ said Charley, looking directly at her mother. ‘Both of you?’

‘I couldn’t let Peggy go on her own,’ said Maureen. ‘You know what her taste in men is like.’

Aunty Peggy had been widowed ten years previously. It was probably the wisest decision her husband had
ever made.

‘You should have taken part, darling,’ carried on her mother.

‘I’ve been busy,’ replied Charley.

Her mind briefly flitted towards Mike before she banished the thought. It had been a fortnight since she had last seen him and she was finding she missed their cups of tea and cheery banter. She missed his encouraging words and dry wit too. Charley wondered if he was still seeing anyone
and, if so, would he bring her to the ball?

She shrugged to herself, trying to feign disinterest. It didn’t matter to her if he brought a date with him, did it? But her heart kept trying to tell her different.

‘
DID YOU MANAGE
to deliver all the desserts safely?’ asked Caroline.

Charley balanced the phone under her chin as she painted her toenails. ‘Yes. They just about fitted in both our cars.’

She was feeling incredibly nervous about the results. What if the new Lord and Lady Beckenham didn’t like her work? What if they wouldn’t pay and wanted their deposit back?

‘I’m sorry I won’t
be there to see them all laid out,’ said Caroline. ‘You’ll have to memorise every detail of tonight.’

‘I’ll try,’ said Charley.

‘Is Julie picking you up on the way?’

Charley swapped the phone to the other ear. ‘Yep.’

‘I’ve been thinking about her too,’ said Caroline. ‘Any chance you can try and glam her up a bit?’

‘Julie? Not a chance. Why?’

‘She doesn’t make the most of herself. Try and
do something with her hair . . . and get some make-up on her.’

‘God!’ Charley blew out a long sigh. ‘I’m gonna have to order us a taxi. There’s no way I’m giving Julie a makeover with either of us stone cold sober.’

‘Don’t go overboard,’ said Caroline. ‘You’re trying to make her look glamorous.’

‘I used to be glamorous, a long time ago,’ said Charley. ‘By the way, I suppose you want me to steer
her in the direction of Wes?’

‘Of course.’

But Julie didn’t sound like she wanted any man in her life when she arrived at Charley’s later that afternoon.

‘Who cares that we haven’t got dates for tonight?’ she said. ‘It’s not a sit-down meal, is it?’

‘You’re telling me that you don’t mind being single?’

‘Over forty per cent of people in this country are now single.’ Julie put her glass of
wine down with a clatter. ‘Valentine’s Day is so commercial. Basically it’s just the majority of the country saying, “Hah! Look at us! We’re buying overpriced red roses and having sex tonight – and you’re not!”’

‘You know,’ said Charley, ‘you use that forty per cent figure quite a lot.’

‘That’s because it reminds me that I’m not a freak, just one of society’s oppressed minority.’

‘You’re still
a freak though, right?’ Charley watched her friend glance at her reflection. ‘Although a lovely-looking one.’

Julie was wearing one of Charley’s long evening gowns that she hadn’t been able to sell on eBay. It was pale gold with a lace overlay, off-the-shoulder and floor-length. It suited Julie’s blonde hair and pale skin much more than it did Charley’s colouring.

She had managed to persuade
Julie that she needed a touch more make-up than usual so had made up her friend’s eyes with smoky dark golds, and had brushed her cheeks with blusher to make her look healthy, not ashen. She had fixed Julie’s hair with spray and then tied it back in a messy bun to soften the effect.

Julie frowned. ‘I don’t look like me.’

‘Well, perhaps tonight you can be someone else.’

‘I think the role of
Prince William’s wife is already taken.’

Charley quickly got dressed in the only other long dress she owned: a black strapless gown with a heart-shaped neckline. She had always felt this was a little too low for her comfort zone, but she had no other choice. She had also rolled her long hair up into a bun, just in case she had to go near the food preparation area.

‘Very nice,’ said Julie. ‘You
look like a busty Audrey Hepburn.’

‘Oh, God,’ said Charley, rushing to the mirror. ‘Is it too low?’

‘Can a dress ever be too low?’ Julie’s phone bleeped. ‘Anyway, the taxi’s here. It’s too late to change your mind now.’

Charley took one last look at her reflection before snatching her evening bag from the bed and rushing out. The Valentine’s Ball awaited them.

THE SKY WAS
streaked with a dark pink sunset as the taxi trundled up the long driveway to Grove Castle. The fifteenth-century building had more the look of a stately home, standing in around 1,000 acres of land. The huge grounds were home to a herd of deer and there were aged oak trees lining the driveway which had been lit with fairy lights.

‘I’d forgotten how lovely the castle
is,’ said Julie as they got out of the taxi. ‘It’s been years since I’ve been up here.’

The huge square mansion had the look of a golden, miniature Buckingham Palace, lit up that evening with big spotlights set at ground level. Hundreds of people were milling around, getting out of taxis and their cars, gazing up at the beautiful building. The whole village had been invited for a champagne and
buffet supper.

Julie shivered. ‘Let’s go in,’ she said, her bare arms getting goosebumps from the cold February night air. A frost had been forecast and the temperature was already close to freezing.

They went into the immense entrance hall, with its grand stone staircase leading up to the first floor. A string quartet serenaded them as they took in their surroundings. To their left was the
beautiful ballroom, white-painted, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ornately moulded ceiling. A DJ played soft music from a secluded corner, trying to set the right ambience for the elegant evening ahead. To their right was another large room, the state dining room, which had been laid out with hundreds of round tables for people to sit at.

They each took a glass of champagne that one
of the many waiters had offered them.

‘This is the life,’ said Julie.

Charley nodded in agreement, already nervous about the reaction her ice-cream would receive.

‘Shall we try and find some food?’ said Julie, in a bright tone.

They went into the state dining room and helped themselves to the finger food on offer. It was bland but edible fare, puff pastry seeming to be the main ingredient.

‘Perhaps all the money is going to the charity fund,’ said Julie, peering at the grey mixture inside a vol-au-vent.

‘What charity is it for?’ asked Charley.

‘No idea,’ said Julie. ‘The whole village is only here for a good nose around.’

‘Darling!’ came a familiar cry from nearby.

Charley looked round to see her parents and Aunty Peggy bearing down on them. Maureen bent to give her daughter’s
cheek an air-kiss so that her lipstick stayed intact.

‘It’s nice to see you out of your washerwoman clothes for once,’ she said. ‘I don’t think everyone needs to see quite so much of your chest, though. You’ll catch your death of cold.’

Charley tried unsuccessfully to pull her dress up a bit.

‘I said to your mother, it’s all a bit fancy,’ said Dad. ‘Not sure how comfortable I am with all these
upper-class airs and graces.’

‘Nonsense. It’s easy,’ said Aunty Peggy, before bellowing ‘
Garçon
!’ at a young waiter.

Charley cringed and hoped no one was looking. The waiter scuttled over, allowing Aunty Peggy to replace her two empty glasses with full ones.

‘I don’t want to panic you,’ said Julie, craning her neck to see above the crowds, ‘but they’re just putting out your ice-cream hearts.’

‘Oh, God.’

Charley drained her glass in one gulp and grabbed one of Aunty Peggy’s full ones.

‘And that dreadful food critic is here from the newspaper,’ said Maureen.

Charley felt ill. What if she received yet another wretched review? What if her whole ice-cream business was going to be annihilated before it had even begun?

Feeling even more nervous, Charley drank another glass of champagne.
Getting drunk was obviously the only way to get through this evening.

CAROLINE’S PHONE RANG
out just as Jeff turned the car into the long driveway leading up to Grove Castle.

‘It’s Julie,’ she told her husband. ‘She says the ice-cream looks great and people seem to be enjoying it.’

‘That’s terrific,’ he replied.

‘Don’t go too close,’ said Caroline. ‘I’ve only got my baggy old clothes on and no make-up.’

She stared out of the window as the
car neared the castle. It looked beautiful, all lit up on that cold winter’s evening.

Jeff ignored her protests and took the car past the main entrance where he pulled over in a dark spot underneath some trees.

He turned to face his wife. ‘I keep telling you, you’re beautiful.’

‘I can’t believe I let you bring me here,’ said Caroline.

‘I couldn’t have you missing out after everything we’ve
been through.’ Jeff glanced at the back seat where Flora lay fast asleep.

He opened the driver’s door, walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger door.

Caroline looked up at him. ‘What?’

Jeff held out his hand out to her. ‘Please, just get out of the car for five minutes.’

She glanced down at the thick sweater which covered her eight-month baby bump, and sighed. But she was
smiling as she took his hand.

It was a beautiful night, she thought. The sky was lit with stars, the air fresh and crisp. Jeff led her around to the driver’s side of the car where it was darkest. Then he took his wife in his arms and began to sway gently in time to the music drifting out of the castle.

For a moment, Caroline tensed up. Then she told herself to relax. She was in the late stages
of her pregnancy. She would be fine. Besides, she realised, she wanted to dance with her husband.

Jeff held her close as they swayed gently back and forth. Caroline snuggled into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

‘I love you,’ she murmured.

‘I love you too,’ he replied.

They danced on for a couple more minutes before Jeff gently sat his wife back in the passenger seat.

‘Let’s get you
home,’ he said, before closing the car door.

Caroline glanced up at the castle as her husband turned the car around to head for home. She hoped the others were having as romantic a time as she was.

JULIE GLANCED AROUND
the tables. Everyone was busy eating the ice-cream hearts and none were being left untouched. That had to be a good sign, she thought.

‘I’m going to get some fresh air and text Caroline about your roaring success,’ she said.

Charley nodded in reply, still furtively glancing from table to table in apprehension.