Page 19 of The Payback Plan
‘Always come here for a coffee afterwards. In winter anyway. Gotta support local especially when the tourists leave and Jiya gives us a discount. In summer we usually go to Sheila’s for a nice cool Pimm’s.’
Paige laughed. Oh, to be an age where indulging in a morning drinking sesh didn’t require a snowed-in airport. ‘Do you have other regular meetings?’
‘Oh yes, duck. We meet on the first Thursday morning of the month except January. We usually do some kind of craft or cooking or a fundraising activity. Sometimes we have guest speakers like next month. We’ve got Geraldine’s’ – she tipped her head in the direction of a woman with frizzy poodle curls and giant hoop earrings – ‘great-niece, Pippa, who used to work for ITV in London in production. She’s done all kinds of behind-the-scenes stuff for so many television shows including’ – she lowered her voice to a hushed, reverent tone – ‘Coronation Street. She even wrote a couple of the episodes!’
Partial to a bit ofCorrieherself, Paige was impressed. ‘She sounds interesting.’
‘Indeed.’ Dorry nodded briskly. ‘We always try to have some relevant kind of theme and as the BAFTAs are two days after the meeting we thought she’d be a good fit.’
‘Perfect I’d say.’
‘If you’re at a loose end, you should come along. You don’t have to be a member to attend and all are welcome. Plus’ – she dropped her voice again – ‘Myrtle over there makes the best scones you’re ever likely to eat. Worth it for that alone.’
Paige got the impression thatDorrywas a WI recruiting wet dream. Always on. Always ready to push her product like any good drug dealer. Or Scientologist. ‘Thanks.’
Paige smiled. ‘I’ll think about it.’
‘Doris.’ A woman with steel-grey hair and an even steelier spine if her almost military erectness was any indication, shot an impatient look in their direction. ‘Leave the poor girl alone and come pay Jiya for your damn order.’
Dorry rolled her eyes. ‘That’s Elizabeth, our dear leader,’ she said in a low amused voice, clearly not cowed by the command. ‘Better go before she has an apoplexy. But it would be lovely to see you at the next meeting. Just drop in. We meet at St Agnes’s church hall at 10a.m.’
Paige got the impression it was an order, not a suggestion. And there was no doubt in her mind that this bunch of spritely women could hunt her down and kick her ass. After all, theywerethe daughters and granddaughters of women who had fed the country.
She turned to go just as Paige was struck by an idea. ‘Are men welcome?’
‘Of course. Eighty-five per cent of us are widows.’ Dorrie winked. ‘A man is always appreciated.’
And then she was gone, leaving Paige to tuck that morsel of information away as she pondered the possibilities.
* * *
Oliver wasn’t upstairs when Paige got home but the kitchen was once again pristine. Even the cupcakes she’d taken out of the oven and left on a cooling rack amid all the debris had been set on a wooden cutting board and draped with a clean tea towel. The bowl with the frosting had been covered in cling film and placed in the fridge.
Paige smiled. Mr Neat Freak was making her job far too easy.
After unpacking the groceries into the pantry and fridge with zero care and attention, Paige tackled the frosting of the cupcakes. She generously slathered on the chocolate cream cheese, eating the first one as she finished the others. There were crumbs everywhere when she was done. She didn’t bother with cleaning them up and left the rack, the frosting bowl and the utensils in the sink unwashed.
Wandering over to Flower’s cage, she noticed his water dish had been filled and she smiled again. Plucking the rodent out of the cage, she cuddled him close to her chest and stroked him.
‘Methinks he secretly likes you, Flower,’ she whispered.
Flower had no opinion so she kissed his furry little head, placed him back in the cage and decided it was time to work.
Real work. That paid the bills. Not this karma stuff that she was doing to redress the cosmic imbalance. And was, thus far proving to be super fun.
As she mounted the stairs to her bedroom, she heard what she assumed was the television coming from the media room below. Was that what he did all day? Just sat on his ass and watched the idiot box?
Oh, how the other half lived!
Retrieving her laptop and work bag, Paige returned to set up at the table. Not on one end which she’d normally do, so as not to disrupt Oliver’s life too much given he was so generously sharing his home. Nope. Right in the middle to be as much of an inconvenience as possible.
With that in mind, Paige spread out as much as possible. Plonking the violin case on the table, she placed folders with relevant client files on either side of the laptop. Yes, most of her records were electronic but she kept meticulous print copies of everything as well. Just in case she was ever hacked or something else equally calamitous.
She also placed several different notebooks on the table along with a colourful array of Post-it notes – which she could not live without. The last thing on the table was her pencil case containing pens of infinite colour. She’d got into the habit of using a different coloured pen for each client and consequently had quite the collection.
Stupidly it made her happy looking at them. Like she could see the success of her business just by peering into the pencil case.
She’d also snaffled another cupcake which she planned to eat as messily as possible.
