Page 87 of Barging In
“Oh, she is. She gets very stroppy about signage. You want to watch out for her.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of Victoria’s mouth. “Sounds like someone who lives by the rulebook.”
Clem lifted an eyebrow at her, her face suddenly sullen. “Sometimes a little too closely.”
Victoria took a sip of wine and eyed Clem. What didshe mean by that?Too closely?Yes, she liked rules; you knew where you stood with them. They made things easier, clearer. Was Clem talking about her marriage?
Victoria stood, deciding to ignore the comment, and began clearing their plates. “Do you always work this late?”
“No, I usually start my last bake about seven. Then I’m up again at six.”
“Oh, sorry! I should have thought and had you round earlier.”
“It’s fine, honestly.” Clem shrugged. “It was very nice, whatever the time.”
“Can I interest you in dessert before you go? I’ve got cheesecake — only shop-bought, I’m afraid. I’m not a whizz in the kitchen like you.”
“Sounds lovely,” Clem enthused. “Yes, I can bake, but that doesn’t mean I’m a great chef. That carbonara was delicious, so don’t pretend you can’t cook.”
“I’ve perfected a few staple recipes over the years.”
Victoria plated up the cheesecake and returned to the table. Retaking her seat, she moved the conversation back to where they had left off.
“I much prefer to finish at five and get home to enjoy a glass of wine, especially after working all hours in London. I know there is a lot of work to do at the wharf, but I unapologetically set the pace of my own life now. I’ve no desire to return to that sort of lifestyle, which is why I cling so tightly to the one I have.”
“I can understand that,” Clem said, nodding a little awkwardly. She looked like she was about to respond further but thought better of it, slipping a spoonful of cheesecake into her mouth instead.
Victoria wasn’t sure if she truly understood or was just being polite. Clem knew where she stood: stuck for now,in a life she didn’t wish for but couldn’t quite change. Whether her comment was genuine or not, Victoria was grateful she wasn’t being dragged through the wringer again, like she had been the night of the party.
“Mmm, that’s not bad for shop-bought,” Clem said, pointing her spoon at the cheesecake as she swallowed. “I do like the flexibility of my hours, but I miss the regularity of a nine-to-five. To know when your time is your own, you know? When you work for yourself, you end up working all hours and feeling guilty when you’re not. You always assume you’re not doing enough.”
“Until I was full-time here, I was working four days in London, three at the wharf, and working late into the nights. My relaxation time was the couple of hours’ drive between.”
The memory of that relentless routine, the way she’d used work to numb herself from the mess her personal life had become, made her chest tighten. She’d soon learned that the less time you had for a life, the easier it was to ignore how much of a shit show your own had become.
“That doesn’t sound healthy,” Clem said. “And not working to someone else’s timesheet sounds liberating, but it’s not always the answer.”
Victoria nodded. “And to reiterate, if you did decide to come and work for me, you really could set your hours. I’m grateful for any time you could give me. No pressure, but… can I ask what your thoughts are?”
Clem took a thoughtful bite of dessert. “I want to take the job. I just… don’t think I can.”
“What’s holding you back? I can sense your excitement about it.”
“That I’ll love it as much as I think I will,” Clem sighed. “Then I’ll feel I made a mistake, that I followed a whim with the café and Florence — and that I failed.”
“But changing direction isn’t failing,” Victoria protested. “You could be moving forward to something better.”
“You seem to think some changes mean failure when it comes to yourself,” Clem observed.
“This is a bit different to a change in a relationship, Clem,” Victoria said, putting her fork down, having lost her appetite.
“Is it? Really? Change is change, surely.”
“The consequences are different. You’d be closing up a business to work in a sector you’re passionate about. That’s not the same as me divorcing my husband and risking everything dear to me. If that happens, chances are you wouldn’t even have a job at the wharf.”
“Then I shouldn’t take it. If I did, it would be another reason for you to keep ignoring your domestic situation.”
Victoria let out a loud, frustrated huff. “Why is my domestic situation so important to you, Clem?”
