‘But he does have somewhere else, doesn’t he? He can move in with his other woman.’ She saw Pam’s look of dismay. ‘I know that isn’t your best-case scenario, but having looked at what you could afford to buy, I don’t think selling up and moving is much of an option either.’ An assessment Pam couldn’t fail to agree with.
‘Maybe you could buy Geoff out?’ continued Zee.
‘What with?!’
‘Maybe you could get a mortgage?’
‘Again, what with?!’
‘You could take a leaf out of Charley’s book.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Get a lodger! In fact you could have more than one – it’s a big house.’
Pam pulled a face. ‘Taking in lodgers? It makes me sound like a seaside landlady or a distressed Edwardian gentlewoman down on my luck!’
‘Careful!’ Zee warned her provocatively. ‘One of my best friends is a lodger!’
Pam laughed out loud and the cloud of dismay, verging on despair, which had gathered over her throughout the afternoon, began to thin. Perhaps Zee was right. As worst-case scenarios went, having a lodger or two wouldn’t be nearly as excruciating as living with Geoff, or, heaven forbid, having that Barbara living in her home, or having to sell up altogether.
‘You don’t have to decide immediately, Pam, in fact don’t decide anything at all today,’ counselled Zee sagely. ‘Just think about it as another option.’
Pam could see the wisdom of that. But there was one thing she was now blindingly certain of. Whilst she might not be quite ready to move back to her house quite yet, moving back was going to be her ‘best-case scenario’, and she wasn’t going to give up her home without a fight.
Chapter Thirty-two
Faced with the alarming prospect – no, make that the terrifying prospect – of four hundred people pitching up at the Prosecco Night, Charley called an Immediate Emergency Meeting.
As they gathered round her coffee table Charley could only hope someone would know what the hell to do. ‘I can’t possibly run an event for four hundred people!’ she panicked. ‘That’s huge!’
‘Four hundred flyers doesn’t mean four hundred people will turn up,’ reasoned Angie, but in a tone that very much suggested that she thought they might.
Nisha, on the other hand, clearly thought they wouldn’t. ‘There’ll probably only be about two hundred,’ she said calmly. Normally Charley would have found Nisha’s characteristic unruffled composure reassuring. This evening she was trying hard not to find it infuriating.
‘Only two hundred is still hell of a lot of people!’ Charley reminded her, and to illustrate the fact she did the sums out loud. ‘Two hundred glasses of fizz, with five glasses to a bottle… that’s forty bottles. Oh!’ She stopped. Actually, now that she had a much smaller number in her mind, and one in double digits rather than three, it suddenly didn’t seem as daunting.
‘Forty-five bottles to be on the safe side,’ suggested Nisha.
‘Make it fifty,’ said Tara.
‘Okay,’ nodded Nisha. ‘It’ll be sale or return anyhow.’ She always bought the fizz at a significant discount on her cash-and-carry card, which was a double-whammy for Charley, since not only did it take it off her own to-do list, it added to the profits of the night, too.
‘I’ll take care of the float,’ said Tara, confident that she’d be able to sort it out at work like she usually did.
Charley scanned her list. ‘Felicity suggested we sell cupcakes.’ She pulled a face, not knowing what sort of reaction the notion would get, fearing that cupcakes were a bit more ‘school fete’ than ‘Prosecco Night’.
‘Not a bad idea in itself,’ said Nisha, warily, ‘as long as they’re classy and have a Prosecco theme. We don’t want piles of multicoloured fairy cakes plastered with brightly coloured sweeties leaking food dye all over the icing, looking like mould.’ She visibly shuddered at the thought.
‘Well, that counts mine out!’ laughed Angie.
‘I’m up for making them,’ volunteered Pam casually, then turning to Nisha to get her seal of approval she said, ‘I’m thinking vanilla-flavoured cupcakes with Prosecco butter icing, topped off with a sprinkling of gold sugar stars.’
‘That sounds perfect!’ cried Nisha, looking mildly astounded.
‘Gold or white cases?’ asked Pam.
‘Gold!’ answered Angie and Nisha in once voice.
‘Are you sure you want to make them, Pam?’ asked Charley. ‘We’re going to need two hundred.’
‘Of course,’ replied Pam, ‘I’ll do two hundred and fifty, just to be on the safe side.’ Then, catching the look of alarm on Charley’s face she added, ‘Darling, I’ve made literally thousands of cupcakes for fetes and fairs… football tournaments… charities, not to mention the W.I.’
‘Well, okay… but we’ll pay for the ingredients out of the profits.’
‘Absolutely not!’ retorted Pam, visibly offended, ‘It’ll be my contribution!’
Angie had printed off a draft flyer and she passed it round. ‘It’s only a first stab, I’m not wedded to it,’ she assured them. But, after running her professional eye over it, Nisha pronounced it to be excellent, and Angie beamed at her.
‘It’ll do… I suppose,’ deadpanned Tara, and Angie clobbered her with a cushion.
‘Bunting,’ said Charley, checking her list. Again she was a little worried about the tone it would set, but the school hall was markedly drab and would need something to set the party mood.
‘The Avalon’s got miles of the stuff,’ said Tara. ‘I’ll borrow some. I might even ask first,’ she added, getting a laugh.
‘Do we really want a tombola or a raffle?’ asked Charley.
‘No,’ said Nisha firmly. ‘They’re too—’
‘Complicated?’
‘Time consuming?’
‘Hokey?’
‘Dull?’ suggested the others.
‘Naff,’ corrected Nisha.
The only thing left on Charley’s list was sourcing the Prosecco gifts, which she didn’t mind getting, like she usually did. Except this time she needed to get enough for two hundred people – most of whom she didn’t even know. It was a vast step-up from buying a couple of dozen or so little items for a group of mates and mates of mates.
‘Charley, you know how to do this,’ Nisha told her serenely. ‘It’s exactly the same as usual. Just ten times bigger.’
Which,
