Page 22 of Barging In
“Ha!” Her mum chuckled. “You give her a run for her money.”
Clem had to grin at that. “I intend to.”
“Which days are you working?” her dad asked.
“Every day at the moment.”
He nodded in understanding but added, “Don’t you work yourself into the ground. You need a couple of days off a week.”
“I’m not sure I can afford to, not now that I work for myself.”
“If you will quit a well-paid job,” her mum sniped.
“Well paid but not fulfilling, Mum. I keep telling you that,” Clem said through gritted teeth.
“Money isn’t everything,” her dad added.
“Exactly, but enough to cover my bills would be nice.” The week had been relentless. Clem felt the tiredness in her bones, but the exhilaration kept her going, canal dunking aside. “Anyway, I need to get a feel for the footfall, work out which days are busier and when I can afford to close. I’ve learnt today that opening on rainy days is best avoided.”
“Well, you have to make a success of it now,” her mum said matter-of-factly.
“Why?”
“I can’t have you selling Florence. Not when we’ve just got her back.”
“No pressure then,” Clem mumbled to herself, fully aware there was no turning back.
“Even more reason now, if it upsets that woman,” her mum added.
Clem took this as her cue. “I’d best head off. It looks like the sun will be back out tomorrow, so I’ve got a lot of baking to do. Thanks for dinner, Mum.”
Thrusting a container at her, her mum said, “Don’t forget the leftovers, andthis.” She put the jumper on top. She then allowed herself to break into a momentary smile. “I’m so pleased you’ve got Florence, Clem. Next time we see you, we’ll have to go for a jaunt in her, see if she still feels the same.”
Heading up the garden a few minutes later, Clem felt a tightness gripping her chest. A worry had been building inside her all week, making her question her choices. Was this all a huge mistake? She’d thrown everything into this new life, but the uncertainty was gnawing at her.What if I made the wrong decision? What if I can’t make it work? What then?
A light flicked off in the downstairs window next door, catching her attention and dragging her thoughts back to Victoria. There was something about her, something Clem couldn’t put her finger on, that had lingered since their clash.
As Clem reached the lane, an upstairs light in the house came on, illuminating the darkness. A man, presumably Victoria’s husband — Clem hadn’t missed the ring Victoria was wearing when she’d gripped the A-board — stood at the window. His arm reached out to draw the curtain, but a second figure appeared beside him.
Clem was about to turn away when she noticed the woman’s hair was short, like it was styled in a pixie cut. She wasn’t well versed in Victoria’s shape, but the last time she’d seen her, she’d had shoulder-length hair. Themystery woman leaned in and kissed the man’s neck as he closed the curtains.
As the light dimmed, Clem glanced at the driveway. The green Jaguar E-Type she’d spotted Victoria leaving in early that morning when her groceries had arrived was gone. In its place sat a black Porsche 911 GT3. A shiver ran through her. Whether from the cold air or whatever domestic infidelity she was witnessing, she wasn’t sure.
What exactly was she supposed to do with this information? Keep it to herself? Tell Victoria? First, she needed to be sure Victoria hadn’t had a drastic haircut.
Reaching Florence, Clem pondered keeping her nose out of her neighbour’s business. After all, no good deed went unpunished. But something inside pressed on her, and she knew she would have to tell her. She didn’t have anything to lose; only Victoria did — if she hadn’t already lost it.
CHAPTER 7
Victoria clicked the end of her Parker pen in and out repeatedly. The spa weekend with Jasper had left her feeling temporarily rejuvenated, but she was no less troubled by her problems. A bit of steam and a massage were mere plasters covering cracks in her skin; some ran so deep they stung to her core.
Being jolted awake by the builders banging away next door at a ridiculous hour had only increased her stress levels that morning. When she popped her head in before work to ask for a little consideration, they said their boss had told them no one was living next door, so they needn’t worry about the noise. Victoria had growled inwardly at that. No doubt Clem had found it amusing to misinform them.
It wasn’t only the early wake-up call that was making her feel uneasy. As much as she didn’t appreciate her dunking in that green swamp, what gnawed at her most was embarrassment over how she’d acted out. If she’d just taken a breath and spoken to Clem calmly, she might nothave wasted so much time googling ‘canal-borne diseases’ during her spa weekend.
The fact that she was turning fifty on Saturday hadn’t escaped her notice either. She’d tried to ignore it, but the looming party — a joint celebration for her birthday and the wharf’s first anniversary — made it impossible. The last thing she felt like now was a party, but regardless of her feelings about reaching fifty, the wharf’s first birthdaydidneed to be feted.
Christine had ordered all the food from their supplier, and it was due in with their usual Friday delivery. The decorations and drinks were in Jasper’s office. With him away at a conference Thursday and Friday — and not returning until after lunch on Saturday — he was in charge of decorating the café as soon as he returned, so that it would be ready for the party at seven.
