After the One by Cass Lester (e book reader free .TXT) 📕

‘I’m worried about Charley,’ she told him.

In what way? she heard him say.

‘I hadn’t realised how lonely she must be, on her own… with nobody else to put the bins out for her, or mow the lawn, or cook her a meal, or even just take her a cup of tea in bed.’ She paused, and he waited patiently for her to continue. ‘The thing is, she says she never wants to find anyone else.’ She hesitated, then went on, ‘But I think she should. You wouldn’t mind, would you. You’d understand.’

They were statements, not questions, but then she knew her son, better than anyone, even his young wife.

He gave her his slow smile. I just want her to be happy, Mum. You know I do.

‘Me too,’ she told him.

Brooding on Charley as she drove home, on the choices she had recently made and the chances she was so readily turning her back on, it occurred to Pam that, regardless of whether she and Josh wanted her to be happy, what was more significant was for Charley to want that, too. After a few weeks of living with her daughter-in-law, she was finding it painful, physically painful, watching her ask for so little, settle for so little, and apparently value herself so little. You have so much more to offer, thought Pam, and you have your whole life in front of you. Why don’t you want more?

Nursing the remains of a now cold mug of tea, Charley gave Pam the edited highlights, or rather the select low moments, of the horrendous row she’d had with Tara.

‘She says I’m wasting my life, but not everyone is ambitious! We don’t all have to… strive, and be driven to achieve things. Josh was only a car salesman, but he was happy. He didn’t want to run his own dealership or anything, and I was just an admin assistant, but I was happy doing that.’

‘Were you?’ queried Pam.

‘Yes!’ said Charley. But she felt a flush heat her neck and spread to her cheeks.

Pam paused before saying evenly, ‘Josh was happy being a car salesman because it was easy.’

‘He was good at it!’

‘Yes. But he did it because he was lazy.’

Charley opened her mouth to protest, but Pam continued. ‘Forgive me, Charley, but it’s true. He was always. Even as a boy he always managed to nip off to the loo if the dishwasher needed unloading or the table needed setting. I bet he didn’t pull on a pair of Marigolds and insist on doing his share of the cooking or the housework, did he!’

‘No, not really.’ Charley smiled in spite of herself at the image of Josh in a pair of pink Marigolds.

‘And I never could get him to put the toilet seat back down!’ added Pam, the humour of the image taking the sting out of her remarks. ‘Or put the rubbish out without being asked at least twice or put his laundry in the bin. I was forever finding his socks and boxers littering the landing…’ She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion.

Charley laughed. That was exactly the Josh she knew, the Josh she loved. He wasn’t perfect, but then nobody was, and what did it matter if she was guilty of ignoring, or even denying, his flaws because she loved him? We all do that – it’s human nature.

‘It always seemed to me that you made the sacrifices, Charley,’ said Pam gently. ‘And if I’m honest, I don’t think you did really love your job. You never talked about it, and it didn’t exactly challenge you.’ She paused, but Charley said nothing. ‘Maybe you should think about doing something you’d enjoy more. And if that’s working in a pub, then fine, but honestly, I don’t think it is. I think Tara is right. You should chase your dreams, Charley, and be happy.’

The uninvited image of herself wrapping up a pair of Prosecco flutes in gold tissue paper in her own shop came into Charley’s mind’s eye. She pushed it away and shook her head. ‘I can’t run a business. Honestly, Pam, it’d be too much for me.’

A couple of beats passed before Pam said, ‘I think you could, Charley, otherwise I wouldn’t be encouraging you.’

Chapter Nineteen

It might have been the airlessness of the hot summer night that stopped Charley sleeping or the way her legs kept tangling in the sheet as she tossed and turned, trying to find a cool part of the bed. Or it might have been the row with Tara going round and round in her head. Maybe Tara was right, perhaps she was too scared to take on a business. So what if she was? There was nothing wrong with knowing your own limitations. But Tara was plain wrong about Josh, she thought hotly, wrong, and way out of line. She would never stop needing Josh, ever; he was the other half that made her whole.

What she needed now, she eventually decided, in fact all she needed now, was a safe, steady job so she could keep their flat. And she was having fun with the party-bag business, and that was enough. Having come to a decision, she manged to clear her thoughts, and tried to relax and let sleep come. But clearing her mind left space for a small, niggling voice to creep in. Is that all you need? it said. A crap job in a pub, a flat and some party bags? She ignored it. Is that it? persisted the voice. For the rest of your life? No one to share your life, no children, and nothing to fulfil you, or make you happy? Is that all you want?

Exasperated, she sat up, clicked the bedside light on and quietly slipped out of bed to look for a book, or a magazine, just something to read, anything, even the back of the bloody cornflakes pack. Something to banish that insidious, insistent voice telling her she was deluding