After the One, Cass Lester [top romance novels .txt] 📗

crisps, some pretzels and tortilla chips, half a dozen dips, and a couple of bottles of Prosecco ‘to get the celebration started’. Unusually, an uncharacteristically exuberant Nisha also arrived clutching two bottles of fizz.

‘Blimey, Nishe! Did you win the lottery or something?’ joked Charley.

‘One’s for everybody,’ announced Nisha, handing a bottle to Charley, ‘and the other one is for Pam!’ she finished, presenting the older woman with the second bottle, which was lavishly decorated with a snazzy pink ribbon and bow.

Clearly bemused, Pam took the offered bottle, ‘Thank you. But, why?’

‘Because you are a completely wonderful woman and I owe you an enormous thank you! Jay’s mum has brought the full force of the family down on him and believe me, that’s a big deal! He’s just sent me a legal letter confirming that the court order stands, and that he will make no further claims against me!’

Tara and Angie exchanged baffled looks, but Pam and Charley erupted into cheers.

‘Woohoo!’ cried Charley, throwing her arms round Nisha and hugging her.

‘What a relief!’ exclaimed Pam.

‘Well, I have absolutely no idea what that was all about,’ said Tara baldly, ‘but it sounds like we’re celebrating, so I’m pouring that fizz!’

Taking their glasses through to the living room the women all settled themselves around the coffee table. Angie bagsied a seat on the sofa and eased her now very pregnant self down into it with a slight ‘ooof’.

‘How’s the shop?’ she asked Charley.

‘Getting there. The furniture looks fabulous!’

‘When are you planning to open?’ asked Nisha, elegantly scooping guacamole onto a tortilla chip.

Charley shrugged. ‘When I’m ready, I guess.’

Nisha looked up sharply. ‘You’ll have to have a big opening. It’s a massive marketing opportunity, you can’t just open the door. You’ll need to make a splash of it.’

Charley could feel the panic showing on her face, but she recovered quickly. Shaking her head she said, ‘I’m not going to put myself under any pressure. I haven’t even ordered any stock yet.’

Nisha opened her mouth to respond but, fortunately for Charley, Tara interrupted her, reminding them of the purpose of the meeting.

‘Okay, so this year the Hospice want to get a Tree of Life,’ she informed them.

‘What’s one of those?’ asked Angie, helping herself to the bag of sweet chilli crisps.

‘I’m glad you asked that,’ said Pam, who clearly didn’t have a clue what a Tree of Life was either.

‘It’s a memorial tree,’ said Tara. ‘Like a Christmas tree. People hang a decoration on it in memory of their loved one.’

‘Oh, that’s a really lovely idea,’ enthused Angie warmly. ‘Like celebrating Christmas with them.’

Frankly, Charley thought it was a terrible idea. Christmas was hard enough, the last thing she’d want to do was hang a crappy ornament on a bloody tree in memory of Josh. She wouldn’t need reminding that he couldn’t be there to share Christmas with her, and never would be again, but it wasn’t up to her. People grieve in different ways, she reminded herself.

‘How much is it going to cost?’ she asked Tara.

‘They reckon a couple of thousand,’ Tara replied nonchalantly.

‘Two grand!’ spluttered Charley.

Nisha nearly dropped taramasalata on her Ted Baker slacks. ‘That’s a bit of a step up!’

Adopting the most casual tone humanly possible, Tara said, ‘Obviously I’m not expecting us to raise the whole two grand—’

‘Very wise,’ said Nisha dryly.

Tara ploughed on without breaking stride, ‘But it would be nice if we could raise say…’ she hesitated and the others exchanged wary looks. ‘…I don’t know, say… half of it?’

‘A thousand pounds?’ asked Charley incredulously. ‘A thousand pounds?!’

Everyone stared at Tara in astonishment; ignoring them, she carried on blithely, ‘So it would be great if we could really big it up a bit this year. Try and get a lot more people.’

‘How many more?’ asked Charley in alarm, looking round her small living room.

‘There’s a limit to how many people Charley can fit in,’ pointed out Pam.

‘Well, obviously,’ replied Tara, then turning to Charley, she asked, ‘How would you feel if we held it somewhere else? Be honest. Would you mind?’

Charley was desperately trying not to let her face give anything away, but she did mind. She’d hosted the Prosecco Night every year and it was more like a party than a fundraiser – and the only one she ever threw in her flat these days. Then, slightly harshly, she accused herself of being selfish, and immature. It’s not your party, she reminded herself, it’s about raising money and remembering Kim and, above all, it’s for Tara. And if Tara wanted to think big, then that was fine by her. Setting aside her disappointment, she raised her glass of fizz and said, ‘The bigger, the better!’ She was rewarded by an affectionate hug from her mate, and a less obvious, sympathetic smile from Pam.

‘Where were you thinking?’ Nisha asked Tara, who shrugged.

‘I hadn’t actually got that far,’ she admitted.

Determined to think really big, Charley suggested the Orangery, picturing everyone gathered round the gold-and-white tables she’d admired when she went there to pitch her party bags. ‘It’s fabulous,’ she raved.

‘Fabulously expensive, too,’ said Nisha.

‘Maybe they’d waive the fee for a good cause?’ Angie sounded hopeful.

‘Or good publicity?’ said Charley, slightly less naively.

‘No chance,’ said Nisha. ‘Honestly, it’s shocking how much, or rather how little, any business will do for charity these days. Even though it’s tax-deductible.’

‘What about the Avalon?’ suggested Pam, and everyone turned to Tara.

‘I can ask…’ she said dubiously, ‘But don’t hold your breath. It’ll mean appealing to the better side of my pompous prat of a manager, and I doubt very much he’s got one.’

‘It might be a bit low-profile for them,’ Nisha warned.

‘There’s always the school hall,’ said Angie. ‘Will would definitely be okay with us holding it there.’

Nisha looked suddenly optimistic. ‘Now that’s a good call, Angie.’

‘Yes!’ agreed Charley warmly.

They left it that Tara would approach the Avalon and Angie would ask Will. Charley knew which option she preferred, but she kept schtum, guessing it would probably be the default position anyhow.

‘I hope Will says