Carla was momentarily buoyed up by the news, but it didn’t last. ‘I don’t suppose it matters what they think, it’s what HRbelieves.’ It took an effort to rally, but she managed it, saying, ‘How about you and Bump? Are you okay?’
‘We’re doing well.’ Carla could hear the smile in Vicky’s voice. ‘I can’t wait to go on maternity leave. Eight working days, then I’m out of here, and one of those is a training day so that doesn’t count.’
‘Are you still adamant that you’re not coming back after you’ve had the baby?’
‘Definitely not! At least, not for long. I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay back any maternity pay. I’ll have to check out the rules and regulations, so I might have to work for a few weeks. But that’s it. After that, I’m done.’
‘I don’t blame you.’ Carla could imagine how hard it would be to leave her baby and go back to work.
Vicky said, ‘I’d better get back to my desk before someone comes looking for me. Keep in touch, yeah?’
‘I will,’ Carla promised, and as she said goodbye she wondered whether Vicky would have already begun her maternity leave when she came back to Birmingham for the hearing. She wished HR would get a move on, as the suspense was killing her. The sooner she knew that she had definitely been sacked, the sooner she could move on.
What she was going to move onto, was anyone’s guess.
When Carla returned from her walk, Dulcie was sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands. Dulcie’s mum, Beth, was also there.
Beth got up to give her a hug. ‘Men!’ she cried. ‘There’re all bath plugs.’
Carla smiled. ‘Bath plugs?’
‘You know what I mean. I have to be careful what I say these days, what with our Sammy, and little Amory at the stables. Little pitchers have big ears.’ Beth stood back. ‘Let me look at you.’ The woman’s gaze swept her from head to foot, and Carla tried not to cringe under her scrutiny. ‘You’re too skinny,’ she announced. ‘And you look worn out.’
‘Thanks.’ Carla didn’t think she looked that bad; a little tired maybe, but that was the stress.
Beth turned to Dulcie. ‘She does, doesn’t she?’
Dulcie lifted her head. Her eyes were dull, and her normally healthily tanned skin was more of a grey colour. She groaned and dropped her head again.
Beth said, ‘Serves her right. She forgets that she’s getting older. At eighteen, you can bounce back from a hangover in a matter of hours. At thirty, it takes a day. When you get to my age, it can take a week and there’s no bouncing involved. How’s your mum keeping?’
Carla blinked at the abrupt change of topic. ‘She’s good, thanks. In Saint Lucia at the moment.’
‘Tell her I said hello.’
‘I will.’ Carla and her mum messaged each other several times a week. It was often easier than phoning, as there was nearly always a time difference between them.
Beth bustled around making cups of tea and laying out a plate of biscuits, as they caught up on their news. Gradually Dulcie perked up, but there was still some way to go before she was back to her usual self. And when her phone rang, she winced.
Carla smirked, feeling rather virtuous, and left her to it. She’d spotted Maisie through the kitchen window, and went outside to see if she needed a hand. She’d enjoyed the soap making yesterday. It was very different from what she usually did, and had helped take her mind off her problems.
By the time Beth called them in for lunch, Carla had made several blocks of soap on her own (under supervision) and was feeling rather pleased with herself. She was also ravenous, not used to being on her feet as much.
Over a goat’s cheese salad with new potatoes that had been slathered with lightly salted butter, the three Fairfax women discussed business while Carla listened.
She was fascinated to see how well Beth and her daughters got on, because the girls had been a bit of a handful when they were younger, and Beth had often been at the end of her tether. Carla supposed it was only to be expected, considering she’d been a single parent with four kids to raise. The eldest, Nikki, lived in the village with her partner and son, Sammy. Jay, the next eldest and only boy, now lived in New Zealand, whilst Maisie had also relocated to Picklewick earlier in the year, Beth following shortly after.
Dulcie said, ‘Carla’s come up with a brilliant idea. She suggested we open a farm shop.’
‘In Picklewick?’ Beth asked.
‘Here, on the farm. I can’t afford to rent a shop in the village and I haven’t got the time to man it, either. Not even when I give up the day job.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Which reminds me, I start my shift in twenty minutes and Ashton is supposed to be calling in to take some photos of the farm for the website. Mum, do you think you can show him around?’
‘Can’t, sorry. Walter has an appointment at the hospital, and then we’ve got a macrame class at the community centre.’
‘Maisie, how about you?’
‘Adam has a delivery of bricks coming, and I said I’d be there to receive it. If you ask Ashton to come later today or tomorrow—’
