After the One by Cass Lester (novels for students .txt) 📗

while Monnie was at a birthday party, to celebrate. She arrived with scones, a pot of strawberry jam and a carton of clotted cream. Pam tried to do her usual I-don’t-want-to-be-in-the-way-so-I’ll-disappear-to-my-room routine, but both Charley and Tara protested.

‘I’ve bought two packs of scones! Don’t make me eat them all, I’ll inflate like a barrage balloon,’ begged Tara, and eventually Pam relented.

Outside, it was a beautiful, sunny day, so while Pam made some tea, the other two carted the kitchen table and chairs out into the garden and set them up under the shade from the next-door neighbour’s tree.

‘Got any other orders?’ Tara asked Charley, as Pam arrived with the teapot.

‘Not yet. But a few of the hotels were interested, I just need to chase them up.’

Pam glanced over to Charley. Her eyes had lit up with excitement, but then Pam watched the light switch off just as suddenly when Tara asked her how the job-hunting was going.

‘Well, I’m not actually looking just right now. I’ve got the pub job, and a lodger…’ she paused to smile at Pam, who returned it warmly. ‘And I’m busy with the party bags…’

Tara rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, don’t do this, Charley!’

‘Don’t do what?’

‘Don’t get stuck in another crap job you hate… just because it’s easy.’

‘I’m not!’

‘But you’re not even looking for anything better!’ exclaimed Tara hotly.

Charley didn’t reply and Pam shifted uncomfortably in her chair and wondered how, or perhaps whether to intervene.

Tara charged on, ‘You said you were only doing the pub job until something better comes along. You can’t spend the rest of your life pulling pints!’

That’s Charley’s choice, thought Pam, bristling at Tara’s aggressive approach, despite privately agreeing with her.

‘You need to look for a proper job, something challenging and fulfilling.’

‘I’m not sure I want that right now,’ said Charley, defensively.

‘Well, you should.’

Who says? thought Pam. Surely Charley had enough on her plate with losing her job and coping with everything on her own? It irked her that Tara was being so unsupportive of Charley, and she wondered why. And then Charley nailed it for her when she said, ‘Why should I? Because you do?’

‘This isn’t about me,’ retorted Tara.

‘Yes, it is. That’s what you’d want from a job. You’re bored at the Avalon and fed up with working for a pathetic little prat, and, can I just say that having met the little jerk, I can completely see why… but just right now, I’m happy as I am.’ She picked up the teapot and strode off to the kitchen.

‘Charley, come back!’ called Tara.

‘I’m putting the kettle on,’ shouted Charley, before disappearing through the French doors.

Prudently, Pam didn’t said anything.

But then Tara turned to her and said, ‘Honestly Pam, she’s just wasting her life.’

What Pam wanted to say was, ‘Back off, butt out and leave Charley alone,’ but she bit her tongue, and limited herself to saying carefully, ‘You know, a big change, like a redundancy or whatever, rattles everything, and it takes time to recalibrate. Charley’s doing okay, and she’s not “wasting her life”, she’s trying to set up a business, and I think it would be good if we could all get behind that.’

The subtle rebuke in Pam’s remark was not lost on Tara, and she sat back in her chair. Charley got back with teapot to find her looking chastened.

‘Your party-bag business,’ said Pam cheerfully, ‘I was just wondering what else you could do to build it up? Maybe make it bigger than just gift bags?’

Charley shrugged, and topped up the mugs, not wanting to be drawn into a further discussion about her career choices.

There was quiet for a while, and then Tara said, very tentatively for her, ‘You know what you could think about maybe doing…’

‘What?’ asked Charley warily, and Pam found herself tensing on her behalf.

‘You could have a little shop.’

‘What, selling party bags?’

‘No, you’d have to do more than just that, maybe sell a whole range of Prosecco-themed goodies. You know, like at the Prosecco Nights.’

That, thought Pam, is not a bad idea. She could just imagine Charley running a shop – she had bags of enthusiasm and precisely the right bubbly temperament to make a go of it. She held back from saying anything, not wanting Charley to feel like she and Tara were ganging up on her, but she was hopeful the idea might have appealed to Charley since she seemed to be giving it serious consideration.

‘Just Prosecco stuff? Isn’t that a bit too niche?’ said Charley.

‘No, it could be your USP!’ enthused Tara, sitting forwards and warming to her theme. ‘And anyway, never underestimate the power of Prosecco!’

‘As if I would!’ Charley laughed, but then, after a pensive moment, she shook her head and said, ‘No, it’s too risky.’

Pam felt a brief pang of disappointment, but Tara wasn’t giving up on her idea that easily, and for once Pam was glad of the woman’s tenacity.

‘No, it’s not,’ said Tara, obviously dismissing an objection she didn’t want to hear. ‘Look at Nisha, she runs her own business. Why not you? You’ve got your redundancy, I think there might even be grants or loans or something. Nisha will know. Come on, what have you got to lose?’

‘You mean apart from my redundancy, my flat and my security?’

‘Oh come on, Charley!’ groaned Tara, and then she caught Pam’s eye, and said more gently, ‘YOLO, Charley. You know that.’

‘YOLO?’ queried Pam.

‘You only live once,’ interpreted Charley quietly.

‘Well, that’s very true,’ said Pam. Looking round she perceived that all three of them were, sadly, better placed than most to fully grasp the full meaning of that statement. It seemed to her to be something Charley had rather lost sight of.

For some reason the fantasy of being in her own shop, surrounded by happy, smiling customers all clutching handfuls of Prosecco-themed goodies, kept coming back to Charley. On the one hand she knew she should dismiss it, on the perfectly sane grounds that it was too risky. But on the other hand, the thought of doing yet