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‘I haven’t said anything to her as yet. I wanted to discuss it with you first. The burden of training her in the office routine would fall on you. I know at the moment we’re busy enough to merit taking on extra staff. With summer round the corner, this is our busiest time of the year, but…’

Her frown betrayed what she was thinking, and Sheila finished quietly for her. ‘With the new agency opening up, we’re bound to lose some business and we may not be able to keep her on.’

‘Mm… What do you think I should do?’

‘I think you should speak to her, tell her what you’ve told me. In her shoes, I’d jump at the chance to get myself back into the swing of working. She’d just started training at the bank before she got married and had the twins, hadn’t she? I’m not in favour of such young marriages…far too often girls get left on their own with young children to bring up and no proper financial or emotional support.’

‘She is very short of money. The house is hers, but she’s worried about how she’s going to afford to keep it. I don’t think she should sell. Not just now. It would mean going back to live with her parents.’

Sheila made a face. ‘Her mother is a first-rate housewife, but she?

??s more interested in keeping her home immaculate than she is in loving her grandchildren.’

‘So you wouldn’t object if I approached Sophy?’

Charlotte couldn’t really understand why Sheila laughed and then hugged her.

It had come as a shock to her at first, this physical affection that Sheila showed to her. The death of her own mother when she was so young, her austere upbringing by her father, had meant that her life had been devoid of affectionate hugs and kisses. Often she wished she could be more like Sheila, who seemed to have no inhibitions about showing her feelings, no worries about having her overtures of friendliness and warmth rejected. The first time Sheila had hugged her like this, she had frozen as still as a statue. Now, with the ease of over five years of friendship between them, she was able to return her almost motherly embrace and say laughingly, ‘I take it that means that you don’t.’

‘Look, why don’t you go and see her now?’ Sheila suggested. ‘It’s market day, and we’ll probably have a fairly quiet morning. I can hold the fort here.’

‘Strike while the iron’s hot,’ Charlotte said ruefully. She was halfway towards the door before she remembered something else. She stopped and turned to Sheila, asking impulsively, ’Sheila, do you by any chance know of a good local decorator? Oh, and someone who can build kitchen units?’

Stoutly concealing her surprise, Sheila considered and then told her, ‘Yes, I think I do. I could have a couple of names and addresses for you when you came back, if you like. Are they for you, or…?’

‘Yes. I was looking round the kitchen this morning. Whether I keep on the house or not, it needs some work doing on it. I suppose during Dad’s illness I didn’t have time to notice how dreary it is. I dare say the place hasn’t been decorated since I was ten years old. It’s clean and tidy enough, but…’

Sheila, who had visited the house on many occasions, tactfully said nothing. Privately she had always thought the house cold and unwelcoming, and she was only too pleased to see Charlotte doing something about improving her surroundings. She had brought up her own family on the maxim that a healthy desire to present an attractive appearance to the outside world showed self-respect and pride in one’s own person.

The Volvo was reluctant to start again. Charlotte waited in exasperation for the petrol to stop flooding it before trying the ignition again. On the fourth attempt it started. She must do something about changing it, she told herself as she drove through the busy market-day streets, heading for the flat fen road that led to the small village where Sophy lived. The Volvo was proving irritatingly sluggish to drive, reminding her yet again that it was becoming increasingly unreliable.

As she drove through the flat fen countryside, she reflected that it was easy to tell which of the solitary substantial houses had been bought by newcomers and which had not. Those recently purchased had shiny coats of new paint, ’Victorian’ conservatories, bright new cars in the drives. She was beginning to develop the long-time country livers’ resistance to the influx of new blood, Charlotte thought wryly, and she tried to make herself see the other side of the picture. Men like Adam, for instance, who had brought new jobs to the area; improved attendances at local schools; improved facilities in the town.

Sophy lived in a small terraced cottage in a row that fronted the village street. All of them had long back gardens backing on to open fields, and, although the houses were small, they sold quickly, being snapped up by young couples looking for their first home.

Charlotte parked her car outside and got out.

As she opened the gate, Sophy came to the front door. The moment the twins saw Charlotte they tore past their mother to fling themselves enthusiastically at her.

Sophy looked tired, Charlotte acknowledged, studying the younger woman…too tired for a girl of her age. She had lost weight, and her jeans hung shapelessly on too thin hips. The twins, in contrast to their mother, looked lively and happy, their clothes clean and new.

Sophy adored her children and was a wonderful mother, but the strain of constantly worrying about money was beginning to tell on her, Charlotte noticed, after Sophy had invited her inside and then snapped sharply at her little boy as he started to ask for a biscuit.

Guiltily she flushed, pushing her hair back out of her eyes. ‘I don’t buy biscuits any more,’ she told Charlotte shakily. ‘They’re a luxury I can’t afford, but how can I make these two understand that? They go round to Mrs Meachim’s and she gives them biscuits and orange juice, and then I feel guilty because I can’t do the same thing. I’ve even started to stop them going round so often. I don’t want her to think—’ She broke off helplessly. ‘I’m glad you came to see me, Charlotte. I’ve definitely decided to put the house up for sale.’ Her shoulders slumped defeatedly. ‘The last thing I want to do is to move back in with Mum and Dad, but, no matter how carefully I try to budget, there just isn’t enough money to feed and clothe the three of us and run the house. As it is, I’m having to buy the twins’ clothes second-hand.’ She made a face. ‘I shouldn’t complain really. With all the new money coming into the area, one of the mothers at the playschool has organised an unofficial clothes pool for mums who’ve got children’s clothes that are too small but still have a lot of wear in them. I’ve got these two kitted out with the latest designer kids’ wear for next to nothing, but just occasionally it would be nice for them to have something new.

‘Katy came home from playschool crying the other day because one of the little girls had said she was wearing her dress.’ She made another face. ‘I know I can’t afford to be overly proud…’

Charlotte, who had been trying not to show her pity while Sophy spoke, said quietly, ‘Before you make a final decision about selling this place, I’ve got a proposition to put to you.’

* * *

‘Work? For you?’ Sophy exclaimed dazedly when Charlotte had finished. Already her shoulders seemed straighter. There was a pretty pink glow to her skin, and her eyes had brightened. Her face fell abruptly.

‘But, Charlotte, I don’t have any kind of experience in estate agency work.’

‘I know that. Sheila is willing to train you up in the office routine, while I’ll take you round with me, show you how to measure up et cetera. It will only be a part-time job at first,’ she warned, ‘and, to be honest with you, if Oliver Tennant is as successful as he intends to be I doubt that there’ll be enough work for Sheila and me by the autumn, never mind for the three of us, but at least you’ll have had a training, and who knows what might have happened by then?’

‘I’ll need to find a child-minder.’


Tags: Penny Jordan, Carol Marinelli Billionaire Romance