‘None at this rate!’
They sorted through everything, and then Charley checked her emails and frowned. ‘The tote bags and the tea towels should have been delivered too, and the bath bombs.’
‘Are they from the same company?’ asked Pam, ‘Perhaps the order went astray?’
‘No.’
‘That’s worrying. When were they delivered?’ asked Pam.
‘According to the email, yesterday.’
‘But nobody was here yesterday.’
‘Bloody hell!’ swore Charley. ‘I hope they didn’t leave them outside and someone’s nicked them.’ And with that unpleasant thought hanging in the air, they started clearing up the mountain of packaging covering the floor.
Shortly afterwards, when Ricky appeared with the three missing packages, Charley could have hugged him. ‘Thank you so much! You’ve made my day!’ she gushed.
Ricky gave her his easy smile and said, ‘I only took some packages in! It’s not that much of a big deal. You’d do the same for me.’
‘Yes of course. But I thought they’d been nicked!’ explained Charley, smiling back warmly. Then, suddenly acutely aware that Pam was watching her, she felt a hot flush creep up her neck and into her face. She turned away and busied herself opening the missing packages, creating a decidedly awkward moment.
Covering the uneasy silence, Ricky turned politely to Pam, ‘I’m Ricky, I own the bike shop.’
‘Oh, sorry!’ said Charley. ‘This is Pam, my—’
‘Business partner,’ said Pam.
‘Mother-in-law,’ Charley finished at the same time.
Ricky seemed amused, but then no doubt noticing the new sudden tension between Pam and Charley, he said, ‘Well, I’d better get back, I’ve left Carlo guarding the shop,’ and he slipped off.
Charley pointedly engrossed herself in finding all the delivery notes she’d left in the packaging, which she had now belatedly realised she needed to keep, while Pam started breaking up the cardboard boxes before taking them to the recycling bins. Both of them studiously avoided mentioning Ricky.
When they got back to the flat, Pam went to the kitchen to start cooking supper while Charley ran herself a hot bath and poured in a generous slug of the Prosecco and Rose Bubble Bliss she’d nabbed from the shop. Stepping into the warm, frothy water, she gratefully sank under the mountain of foam. Idly brushing the bubbles off her legs, Ricky slid, uninvited, into her mind. He wasn’t her type, she reminded herself, but he was a nice guy, and he had nice eyes. Brown. Josh’s were blue, blue and always smiling, always looking for the fun in life, whereas Ricky’s eyes were more thoughtful, she mused. Then, picturing Ricky in an imaginary flat, she wondered what he was doing. Cooking supper? Watching something? Or listening to music? Or maybe he was a reader? Josh hadn’t been into books. It was the one thing she wished she could have shared with him. They had never sat and read. Her mind wandered to an image of her and Ricky relaxing on his sofa, reading companionably together, Carlo sprawled on a rug in front of them. She brought herself up short and sat up abruptly, the bathwater splashing violently around her legs. She was furious with herself for even allowing herself to think about Ricky, to fantasise about him like that. Comparing him with Josh, and finding Josh wanting! She must not do that again.
And then, to her absolute mortification, she remembered that she’d blushed, actually blushed, when Pam had caught her smiling at Ricky. Cringing at the memory, she just hoped to God she hadn’t given her the wrong idea – or Ricky, which would be even worse.
Getting out of the bath, she wrapped a towel round her and padded barefoot into her bedroom. Sitting down on the bed put her face level with the photo of Josh on her bedside table. He grinned at her, as usual, and she felt immediately guilty. Even thinking about Ricky in the bath seemed a disloyal act, a betrayal. Josh was The One. He always had been, and he always would be; no one could ever follow him and she didn’t want anyone to even try. Pulling on some baggy joggers and Josh’s old Arctic Monkeys T-shirt, she went through to the kitchen to help Pam.
A tantalising smell of mushrooms frying in garlic butter filled the kitchen as Pam stood at the cooker stirring them round, letting them crisp without burning. Charley wandered in, her hair still damp from the bath.
‘Mmm! Smells amazing. Anything I can do?’
‘You could make a salad, if you like.’
‘Sure.’
Then, glancing over to Charley, Pam said casually, ‘Nice of Ricky to take in those packages.’
‘Yes,’ replied Charley evenly, then she buried her face in the fridge.
‘He seems like a decent bloke,’ persisted Pam, and when Charley didn’t answer she continued with a light prod, ‘Don’t you think?’
‘Probably,’ shrugged Charley. Then dumping the salad stuff on the table she added, ‘I’m just not interested.’
There was a sudden hiss as Pam poured cream into the hot butter. She let it bubble furiously for a moment. She’d seen the way the two of them were together, and the way Charley’s face had lit up when she smiled at him.
‘It just seems such a shame, letting a good man like that go to waste!’ laughed Pam.
‘Well the field’s clear if you want him!’ teased Charley.
Pam was scandalised. ‘I’m old enough to be his mother!’ she spluttered, nearly dropping her spatula.
A mischievous gleam glinted in Charley’s eye. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you might be keen on him. It was the way you told him you were my business partner rather than my mother-in-law… I mean, obviously, being a “mother-in-law” does imply a certain age…’ she trailed off provocatively.
Pam was almost hyperventilating at the cooker. She threw the oven gloves at Charley. ‘I’m always happy to say I’m your mother-in-law! You know I am, even though, technically I’m not any more, of course.’
‘Well, I will always think of you as my mother-in-law’ said Charley affectionately.
Always? thought Pam. Always? And that’s when it hit her, and about half a dozen
