They clustered round Charley’s computer, scoffing slabs of Pam’s freshly baked almond and apricot tart. Well, Pam and Charley scoffed theirs, while Nisha ate hers delicately, with a fork. Nisha vetoed some of the shops outright. ‘That one’s in the back end of nowhere, that one’s under a flyover and that one looks like it’s next door to a brothel!’
Pam snorted with laughter and nearly choked on her tart.
Nisha carried on savagely culling, until they were left with a shortlist of five shops to consider. ‘Think about customer parking, footfall, the quality and type of other shops and businesses nearby, street lighting, bus routes, unloading bays for deliveries…’ she advised Charley, who was making meticulous notes.
‘It won’t just come down to the rent,’ Nisha told her, reminding her that getting the right shop was vital. ‘It’d be a bad business decision to take the cheapest shop if it’s the one where you’ll do the least trade. Go and look at all of them. Get a feel for the area and check out the other shops nearby. You don’t want to set up slap bang next to someone selling the same sort of stuff. And don’t choose a shop just because it’s cute and you fall in love with it.’
‘So, it’s just like getting married,’ quipped Pam. ‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure!’
‘Precisely,’ laughed Nisha.
When they’d finished, Charley went to the door with Nisha, and asked her discreetly if there was any news from Jay. She hadn’t felt it appropriate to ask her in front of Pam, not least since, as far as she knew, Nisha had only confided in her.
Nisha shook her head. ‘He’s not replied.’
‘Is that a good thing?’ ventured Charley.
Nisha shrugged. ‘Maybe. Maybe no news is good news. But it means I don’t know what’s actually happening, so I’m sort of left in limbo, waiting to see what he decides to do. Or, more likely, what La Bimbo tells him to do. And I’m not going to prod him. The solicitor said if he doesn’t reply, I should let sleeping dogs lie.’
‘Very wise,’ agreed Charley. ‘There’s no need to poke the bear, or the dog, or whatever,’ she said, muddling her animal metaphors, ‘if you don’t need to.’
Nisha smiled, and then surprised Charley by reaching out and giving Charley a swift hug. ‘Thanks. You’re a good mate.’
‘So are you,’ Charley reminded her.
After Nisha had gone Charley looked at the list of shops again. Only one of them really appealed to her – a cute, old-fashioned looking store with a bow window, in a classy part of town near the Downs. Naturally it was the most expensive, but Nisha had said a more expensive shop might be better for business, hadn’t she? Charley could see why Nisha said not to go rushing in, but what if the one she wanted, the only one she really wanted, got snapped up? She called the agent and asked him to set up viewings for all the premises on her shortlist. ‘But I want to see the shop just off the Downs first,’ she insisted.
They were meeting the agent at nine, the following morning. Holding her scrunchy in her teeth, Charley deftly swept her hair up into a simple twisted topknot and smiled to herself in the mirror. Somehow, a confident-looking businesswoman smiled back. Then she grabbed her bag, the file of potential shops and a notepad. It was nearly half eight. ‘Pam,’ she called, ‘let’s go!’
They drove to the shop through the morning traffic. As they drew near they both looked out for somewhere to park.
Pam suddenly flung her arm out. ‘There!’ The space was on the other side of the road. ‘Quick, before someone else nabs it!’
There was a brief gap in the oncoming traffic, and Charley skilfully did a speedy U-turn. No mean achievement in the rush hour.
‘That was lucky!’ she exclaimed, reversing into the space.
They walked up towards the shop checking out the area as they went. Upmarket delis jostled with designer furniture stores and bespoke kitchen fitters. And exclusive hand-crafted jewellery hung next to original paintings and sculptures in the sort of art galleries where, if you had to ask the price of something, you definitely couldn’t afford it.
‘This is a perfect position,’ enthused Pam.
‘Isn’t it!’ Excitement rose up inside Charley, and she reminded herself not to let it show too conspicuously in front of the agent.
They met him outside the shop which, it turned out, was sandwiched between an antiquarian bookshop on one side and a chic gift shop on the other. Charley sighed. It was perfect. She could just imagine the little bow window full of Prosecco goodies and herself standing at a counter, wrapping a pair of glass flutes in gold tissue paper, with the credit card reader busy in the background. She exchanged what she thought was a subtle look with Pam, but nothing escaped the estate agent. Suddenly, he couldn’t sing the praises of the shop highly enough, insisting that although the rent was a little on the high side, it was a terrific business investment.
‘The whole area is awash with affluent customers, and an extremely high footfall – you won’t even need a marketing budget,’ he claimed.
‘Parking’s a bit tricky,’ Pam pointed out.
‘We managed okay,’ said Charley, dismissing Pam’s anxiety.
Mildly concerned that Charley’s judgement was being skewed by how much she wanted the shop, Pam wandered off to objectively check out the area, starting with the gift shop next door. A few seconds later she came back and beckoned Charley over to her. ‘I think we might have hit a bit of a snag,’ she
