‘No,’ said Nisha. ‘And I don’t think he’s bluffing, or rather La Bimbo isn’t. I’ve either got to pay him a heap of money I don’t actually have, or spend a fortune fighting him in court… with money I don’t actually have. I’m stuffed either way, and he knows it!’
‘Bastard,’ said Charley.
‘Tea or coffee?’ queried Pam mildly, standing by the kettle, which was nearly boiled.
Nisha looked at her vaguely as if the idea of drinking either beverage, or indeed any beverage, just at this moment was extraordinary.
‘Or perhaps something a bit stronger?’ suggested Pam.
‘Preferably something a lot stronger,’ agreed Nisha.
‘We’ve only got wine,’ said Charley apologetically, but Pam had already gone to the fridge. She poured Nisha a generous glassful.
Nisha put her hand out for it gratefully, and took a couple of large gulps, before setting the glass down on the table with a hand that was still shaking.
‘I’m sorry to come round like this…’ she started to say, but Pam interrupted her by leaning over and putting her hand gently on her arm.
‘Why?’ she asked simply, and Nisha seemed momentarily lost for words.
‘It’s what friends are for,’ Charley reminded her.
‘I just don’t know what to do,’ said Nisha in a small voice.
Charley glanced across to Pam, who was looking thoughtful. She hoped to God her mother-in-law had something useful to suggest, because she had absolutely no idea how to help Nisha. After a few thoughtful moments, when Pam did speak, she surprised Nisha and baffled Charley completely.
‘How well do you get on with your mother-in-law?’
‘My ex-mother-in-law?’ Nisha queried, reminding Pam of her actual status.
‘Yes.’
‘I haven’t seen her since we divorced.’
‘How did the two of you get on before that?’ Pam persevered.
‘Fine,’ shrugged Nisha, but her forehead was furrowed with a slight frown, and she was clearly wondering where all this was going. ‘Actually, better than fine. I really liked her, and I know she liked me.’ A small smile crept across her face. ‘She’s smart, very funny, and she was always lovely to me, forever wanting to take me shopping and spoiling me with little gifts.’
‘Well, it’s just a suggestion,’ said Pam carefully, ‘but if I thought my son was behaving like…’
‘Like Jay,’ provided Charley.
‘Like a little shit,’ corrected Pam, making Charley’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at her language. ‘I’d shred him. And then I’d step in and try and stop him. So, maybe you should build some bridges, get in touch with his mother, and let her know precisely what her son is up to. Just a thought,’ she finished.
Charley and Nisha exchanged astonished glances. Charley doubted either of them would have come up with a suggestion like that in a million years, but then, perhaps it was a solution only a mother-in-law could have dreamt up.
‘But what if she already knows?’ asked Nisha.
‘And what if she doesn’t?’ countered Pam.
‘It’s got to be worth a try,’ ventured Charley.
Nisha was less easily convinced. ‘I’m not sure. We’ve sort of lost touch. Won’t she think it’s a bit cheap, me contacting her out of the blue, just because I want something?’
‘Why not let her decide that?’ advised Pam. ‘She might be delighted to hear from you. Just because you’ve divorced your husband doesn’t mean you have to divorce his whole family, too.’
‘Actually, that’s a really important point, Nishe,’ agreed Charley. ‘Like you said, why should La Bimbo get to be part of his family, and not you?’
‘Because she’s with Jay and I’m not any more.’
‘That doesn’t have to change anything,’ said Pam. ‘We can choose to keep the people we like, and love, in our lives if we want to.’
‘Give her a ring,’ encouraged Charley gently.
‘What if she doesn’t even want to talk to me?’ said Nisha, in her quiet voice again.
Charley paused, not wanting to reassure Nisha with what might be naive assumptions based on her own relationship with her mother-in-law.
Fortunately, Pam rescued her. ‘Well, I don’t know you very well, Nisha, but what little I do know I like a lot, and speaking as a mother-in-law, I’d suspect your ex-mother-in-law will be only too happy to meet you for coffee.’
Chapter Twenty-eight
Technically, Charley wasn’t meant to get access to the shop until her contract started, but since the crafters were keen to move out ASAP, and an abandoned shop gave out a bad image, the management had said that once the unit was empty she could begin decorating and shopfitting, as long as she wasn’t actually trading. As it turned out, the crafters – evidently keen to cut their losses – had cleared out by the end of the week. Charley spent the week productively, setting up her business, sorting out a business bank account, building a website and drawing up an Excel sheet of potential products to sell, complete with prices, discounts and delivery details.
As soon as she got the keys Charley cycled eagerly down to the dockside, but when she got to the unit her enthusiasm evaporated. She’d expected the crafters to empty the shop, but in their keenness to strip it out they’d trashed the paintwork, left dozens of ragged screw holes in the walls, and a trail of rubbish and debris all over the floor. Momentarily she was infuriated, but making a conscious effort to rise above it, she told herself not to let it ruin her day. She dumped the bike inside the unit and nipped along to Ricky’s shop to borrow a broom, dustpan and brush and a bin bag. Even just cleaning the shop would make it feel hers. Getting to work restored her mood, but as she’d actually come down to measure up and sketch the design for the shelves she wanted Baz to build, once she’d cleared up, she took a pad and pencil out of her rucksack, sat cross-legged on the floor and started drawing.
Before long, the shop door opened behind her, surprising her. She turned to see Ricky holding a couple of takeaway coffees. ‘Cappuccino?’
She scrambled to
