What was she going to do? She might have mentally just told herself she was going to go through with the pitch only a few seconds ago but… was she? That would mean asserting authority. And it was authority she didn’t really have in the business. She was an employee, exactly like Hazel and Shelley. Being the sister of the owner didn’t count for anything in contract law. And she would be going against Megan’s express wishes.
‘I’ve put them off for now,’ Becky said, fingers in her shoulder-length caramel-coloured hair, trying to draw it away from her neck to feel a little less sticky in the heat. ‘Until Friday. I’m hoping Megan might change her mind. You know, once her feet are feeling better and she’s recovered from the cargo net.’
‘If you want my opinion, dear, I think she’s forgetting where she comes from,’ Hazel said, ripping open a bag of salted nuts, some of which sprayed across the table between them.
‘What d’you mean?’ Becky asked.
‘You hear about it, don’t you? In the news and everything. These entrepreneurs who set up their own little companies then… boom!’ Hazel made an explosion gesture with one hand, corralling peanuts with her other. ‘The firm takes off and their humble beginnings are distant memories… or forgotten about completely.’
Becky really didn’t want to believe that was what was happening with her sister. Megan had set up It’s A Wrap with her share of the reasonably small inheritance she’d been left by their father. Megan had always had a will to succeed. It stood to reason that she would be the one to be her own boss and rise above her position as the daughter of a working-class family from Wiltshire who never really had much to rub together. When the idea was mooted, Becky had deliberated hard about leaving her straight-out-of-college job at the bank to assist her sister but, in the end, family loyalty had won out. And she enjoyed it, for the most part. All the parts that weren’t today.
In complete contrast, Becky’s small inheritance wasn’t yet destined for anywhere. Hence why she’d been quite happy to lend most of it to Megan to buy the It’s A Wrap van. And Megan had promised it was only a loan. Anyway, what did Becky need the money for really? She was perfectly happy renting her flat above the newsagent. It wasn’t like the new estate home Tara and Jonathan had just bought, but the cost was reasonable because it wasn’t double-glazed and didn’t have a parking space. And when you didn’t struggle with the cold and didn’t have a car these things were of little importance. So, Megan had the business and a home with boyfriend Dean and their mother had used what she’d been given after probate to buy a mobile home in Blackpool. Margery Rose now spent her evenings and weekends quite happily playing 10p bingo and dancing at the Tower Ballroom with her sister, June.
‘You were thinking about your dad, weren’t you?’ Hazel carried on.
‘No,’ Becky lied. She wasn’t sure how much Hazel knew about the loss of her father. It’s A Wrap had been established two years after his death and, still upset about the suddenness of his demise then, Becky hadn’t really liked to talk about it too much. Even now, Megan liked to talk about it even less. For her sister, apart from the monetary foundations her life and enterprise were built on, it was like their parents had barely existed. Becky had been to Blackpool twice since her mum’s move, Megan had simply made her excuses.
‘Death is hard, dear,’ Hazel told her. ‘Especially when you’ve got others wanting to brush it under the carpet.’ She sucked at her cocktail. ‘You’re not a brusher-under-the-carpeter though, are you?’
‘Apparently not,’ Becky said again. And she didn’t want to be. Not when she had so many wonderful memories of the times they had all been a happy family together when she was a child. Walks in the local woods, picnics at the park, watching motorbike racing at Thruxton… until the massive stroke had replaced the dad she knew with someone who had to learn to walk, talk and think all over again. But him being alive at all was much better than losing him completely. It might have been within the walls of the care home surrounding them, but Becky had still got to see him, to talk to him and to help him try to recover. There had been small shards of the man she’d looked up to still there, visible just under the surface. Until the second stroke took it all a year later.
‘You know what you need, dear, don’t you?’ Hazel said, hand going into her handbag. It was one of those bags that turned into a backpack should leisure pursuits require it. ‘A cruise!’
Spattering more peanuts, Hazel thumped down a wad of around six brochures Becky never would have believed able to fit in the handbag onto the pub table.
‘That’s what I’m going to be doing at the end of October. I’ve got two weeks booked off and I’m going to be wined and dined twenty-four hours a day,’ Hazel informed her throwing open the first brochure that had a mammoth ship-to-rival-all-ships on the front cover, sitting like a cake-topper on a completely tranquil skein of azure-coloured icing.
Becky immediately caught sight of the prices. Wow! Cruises did not come cheap.
‘And in the hours I’m not being wined and dined,’ Hazel continued, ‘I’m going to try my hand at shuffleboard, then acrobatics… and then more wining and dining.’ Hazel inhaled. ‘Look at that steak. Beautiful.’
Becky regarded the photo of an admittedly tempting piece of cooked-to-perfection steak, a string of watercress laying over its width. She did love meat. Probably a little too much. While Megan was all about sourcing her protein from shakes and pulses, Becky had always preferred animal. Tender beef loin or perfect pork medallions. Some boiled new potatoes with sprigs of mint plucked from the business garden or mash with garlic and rosemary the way her dad used to make it…
‘It’s missing a few more chips though, isn’t it? Still,’ Hazel said, ‘it’s eat-all-you-can on these ships. No one goes hungry. Even the fat ones. And my friend Hilary is a testament to that.’
‘Is that who you’re going with in October?’ Becky asked, watching as Hazel turned the pages and more serene, gliding vessels were displayed, some docking near the waterways of Venice others underneath the famous blue domes of Santorini. It all looked perfect. Sun, sea, and saucisson was on offer for those boats docking in Cannes. Blackpool was the last break Becky had had. And watching her mum and Auntie June ride donkeys and purge their lunch after going on the Big One, hadn’t exactly been the epitome of relaxation.
‘Oh no, dear,’ Hazel said screwing up her face in close-to disgust. ‘No, I wouldn’t wish holidaying with Hilary on anyone. She really would spend twenty-four hours at the all-you-can-eat buffet.’
‘Then who are you going with?’
‘Well,’ Hazel said, ‘I know I should be inviting Stanley from the bowls club, because I have been leading him on a little lately but… I quite fancy going on my own.’
‘Really?’ Becky said, taking a sip of her drink. It wasn’t quite a cruise cocktail, but it was cooling her down and smoothing over her annoyance at Megan’s rapid and angry departure earlier.
‘Yes,’ Hazel continued, flipping over another brochure page. ‘Look at this, dear… Exhibit A you could say.’ Hazel spread her fingers over the photos and inhaled again.