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The Heat Is On
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Praise for The Heat Is On
‘I thoroughly enjoyed this witty and charming read. It drew me in instantly and I tried my best to savour it but it was just too enjoyable’
@jojowelshgirl
‘You instantly feel like part of the gang… There are moments of pure laughter, fun, and drama, and all the while you will fall even more in love with these loveable characters’
@booksofallkinds
‘Perfect to while away a few hours and sure to leave you smiling’
@portybelle
‘A really funny read… Be prepared for an adventure full of humour, love and friends’
@sweeet83
‘A joy to read, this is a light-hearted, romantic comedy that doesn’t pretend to be anything else – a perfect, unpretentious read for the summer!’
@clairesaul1
‘If you’re looking for a summer fun read, with quirky loveable characters, lots of drama and mayhem, then you will absolutely love The Heat Is On!’
@dough_nut81
‘A fabulous book for whiling away the afternoon and one that I would definitely recommend’
@yvonnembee
‘A witty book that is well-written, well-paced with an excellent flow and really funny characters… It picked me up when I was down and left me with a smile on my face! Very highly recommended – a genuinely funny, upbeat read that had me both laughing out loud and tittering away quietly!’
@dmmaguire391
Also by
Helen Bridgett
The Mercury Travel Club
The Heat
Is On
HELEN BRIDGETT
Published by RedDoor
www.reddoorpublishing.com
© 2018 Helen Bridgett
The right of Helen Bridgett to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the author
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Cover design: Anna Morrison
Typesetting: Tutis Innovative E-Solutions Pte. Ltd
For my family and friends – still my inspiration
Back For Good
‘I’m back.’
My best and oldest friend Patty blasts into the Mercury Travel shop like a rock star exploding on to a stage amidst dry ice and pyrotechnics. She’s wearing huge oversized sunglasses, so I won’t be surprised if her next words are, ‘Hello Glastonbury.’
‘You couldn’t have scared me more if you’d had an axe and shouted, “Here’s Johnny! ”,’ says my business partner Charlie as I scrape him off the walls.
‘You know me – I do like an entrance,’ she replies. ‘What are you all staring at?’
Just as we’d been closing up after a busy late-night Thursday, Charlie, Josie and I noticed people in hard hats carrying clipboards and tape measures arriving at the empty shop across the road. An estate agent – or at least the only one of the group not wearing a hard hat – is now changing the sign from ‘TO LET’ to ‘TAKEN’.
‘The builders over there,’ I tell Patty, pointing at them.
‘Ooh, yes. Not bad at all, but I am taken,’ she says.
‘We’re talking about the refit, not the workmen,’ I scold. ‘I wonder what it’s going to be.’
‘I’m hoping for a gin palace,’ says Josie, our assistant manager. ‘That’s definitely what this town needs.’
We all nod at the wise words emanating from this young head.
‘Maybe one with detoxifying doors,’ adds Patty. ‘They’d look like normal revolving doors but one spin round them and your body is a temple once more.’
It isn’t unusual for the shops on the high street of this leafy Manchester suburb to change hands, but normally we’d have heard something about it. Chorlton has extremely efficient jungle drums. However, I’m not even bothered what it might become at this precise moment in time because the idea of detoxifying doors has me very excited.
‘That would be absolutely brilliant,’ I say. ‘Amazing. Can you imagine? Every New Year – no fasting for a month, we’d just take a swing round the doors and our bodies would be pure again. It would put Gwyneth Paltrow and the rest of the clean-eating brigade out of business but I think everyone else in the world would be delighted.’
‘We could get my man Dyson to give up on the vacuum cleaners and invent something women really want. It must be the same technology – sucking the crap out of things,’ adds Josie, her Aussie accent really going for the word crap. Josie has real disdain for a man with a brain the size of a planet who then uses it to invent cleaning products. She keeps a mental list of things that would be a better use of his intellect. Before today, a cellulite attachment for the Animal V8 was top of her list.
‘Sounds gruesome,’ says Patty, ‘but if this was Dragon’s Den I’d definitely be in. Now who wants to make me a cup of tea?’
Patty breaks our fantasy and heads into the kitchen. As it’s past closing time, Josie signals that she’ll head home. She knows that with Patty on the premises, it could be hours before she escapes if she doesn’t go now. I lock the shop door and join my best friend. I watch with amusement as she makes herself completely at home boiling the kettle and grabbing some mugs as if we’d invited her to – not that she ever waits for an invitation. Patty has been singing in an eighties tribute group on the cruise ships for over six months now, and it shows. She’s definitely rounder and her skin has the glow of a person who is both content and very well fed.
‘Where’ve you hidden the bikkies?’ asks Patty pulling open every cupboard. ‘It would be afternoon tea time if we were still aboard,’ she continues as I hand her the hidden stash of chocolate digestives. ‘Mind you, I could probably do with losing a couple of pounds now.’
‘You’re still gorgeous,’ says Charlie.
‘You’re right and at least there’s more to hold on to.’ Patty simultaneously sinks her teeth into the biscuit and her butt into the chair. One or maybe both results in a loud sigh of pleasure and relief. I can’t help but smile at the sight of her making herself comfy. We’ve known each other since we trained to be air stewardesses more than thirty (ouch!) years ago. She’s the blonde to my brunette, the Cagney to my Lacey and often the pain to my pleasure. There’s never a dull moment with Patty, even if you want one. Last year, when I was at rock bottom because of the divorce, Charlie saved my sanity by keeping me focused on the business while Patty did everything she could to distract me from the pain. I have missed this woman so much and am suddenly overwhelmed with the sheer joy of seeing her again.
I give her a big kiss on the top of her head and wrap my arms around her as tightly as I can. ‘It is so good to have you back. I thought you’d be sailing the seas for ever.’
Patty clamps the digestive between her teeth, gets up and hugs me back, one of her all-consuming unabashed hugs. It feels just as good as it looks, so Charlie gets up and joins in. Who doesn’t need a hug every now and then?
‘It was really great fun,’ Patty replies when she releases us from her grip. She swallows the biscuit then continues. ‘And I’m glad I did it but you can’t do it for ever. Even I can’t spend my entire life dressed up as Cyndi Lauper. I think only the woman herself would be happy with that. No my darlings, it is time for a new adventure.’
‘Any idea what that’ll be?’ asks Charlie.
Patty shakes her head. ‘I’ve no idea. To be honest, I was quite fired up about coming home and doing something new but now I’m here
, with the exception of seeing my most fabulous friends again obviously, it feels a bit flat.’
The room goes quiet. Patty was marvellous up onstage and I can imagine her genuinely missing all that applause. Reality doesn’t tend to come with adulation, except on reality shows and they’re not really real.
‘Well, we can certainly do something about that.’ Charlie claps his hands banishing the contemplative silence. ‘Come to dinner at mine this Saturday night. Peter and I will host a reunion for our nearest and dearest. Is Dr Lurve on shore, too?’
Patty laughs at the nickname she gave her partner when she first met him. Jack was the ship’s doctor who tended Patty when she took a fall on the dance floor. She likes to tell us she was under him for weeks after that. Seeing her looking like her old self again brings a sense of relief to the room. I love my friend’s ability to just cheer up everyone with one dirty laugh.
‘Don’t worry,’ she says, ‘I haven’t left him behind. How could I deprive any man of all this now he’s used to it? Actually, we’ve both decided this is it, we’re leaving the cruise and joining you landlubbers permanently.’
‘Is he looking for something new, too?’ Charlie asks, but Patty shakes her head.
‘Jack already has a great offer in a local children’s ward. He’s a bit sick of tending sunburn and overindulgence dressed up as gastroenteritis. That’s why we’ve left now. He starts the new job next week.’
‘Well, all the more reason to celebrate before he has to do the whole Grey’s Anatomy thing. This weekend your new life begins with a glorious dinner party,’ gushes Charlie. He loves to entertain and I can see him getting into the mood already.
‘All of us together with our menfolk. We haven’t done it for ages.’
And we haven’t. Although Charlie, Patty and I have known each other for many years, we’ve each started a new relationship over the past year and the only time we’ve ever had a get-together was to celebrate Charlie’s wedding to Peter at New Year. Given I’d just met my other half, Michael, that day it was hardly a friendship never mind anything else. Patty and Jack had a very different start to their relationship, although they’ve only known each other a few months longer than Michael and I, living the whole time in the cocoon of a cruise ship positively nurtured their romance. The frequent emails from Patty are always laced with loved-up innuendo. They both seem completely smitten.
After agreeing the time and dress code, which, let’s face it, was always going to be glam and gorgeous with Charlie in charge, we say our goodbyes and head home.
‘Is it OK if I come round in an hour or so to collect some things?’ asks Patty as we’re about to get into our cars.
‘If you bring wine.’
‘Never go anywhere without it.’
Girls Talk
I’ve been housesitting Patty’s home for the past four months while she’s been on the cruise ships. Obviously I had to sell the family home when The Ex upped and left, so I rented a little starter home to begin with. Then, just before Christmas, my landlord decided he wanted it back, which meant I would have been homeless if it hadn’t been for Patty. Well, not exactly; there was always the unthinkable option of moving back in with my parents for a while but then Patty offered me this housesitting gig. It wasn’t a hard choice, as she and I joked at the time at least I’m allowed to bring boys back for the night here. Not that I have yet but that’s another story.
I call Michael and tell him about the dinner party on Saturday. He takes absolutely no persuading and says yes to coming. He’s only encountered Patty once, so he’s curious to meet my best friend and her partner properly. He’s heard the tale of how they met several times and there’s the added bonus of a decent meal to look forward to. My culinary skills are legendary for the wrong reason.
‘Someone who can cook is making Saturday night’s meal,’ I tell him.
‘Praise the lord,’ he replies, ‘I haven’t replaced the battery in that fire alarm yet. It’s worn out.’
‘Ha, ha very funny, that’s the last time I cook for you.’
‘Good god, all I need now is a brand new Jaguar to appear on the drive and I’ll have had all three of my wishes.’
I admonish him then tell him he has to find something glam and gorgeous to wear. Knowing his wardrobe, I cannot imagine what he’s going to conjure up. His job rarely calls for glamour. Michael is head of maintenance for the county cricket club, so the dress code is overalls and boots. I was delighted to discover that he’s one of those really practical men; whatever he finds – lawnmowers, cars, remote controls – you name it, he can fix it and he loves doing so. If Michael ever goes missing or doesn’t answer his phone, I know I’ll probably find him in the garage or garden completely absorbed in some repair with a screwdriver in his hand.
‘And a proper one, not the cocktail version,’ I often tell people, in case they assume he’s more like me.
As I’m tidying up Patty’s house a little before she arrives, I think ahead to the group of people who’ll be getting together this weekend and wonder how they’ll get on. It can be a little strange when other halves meet, as even very close friends pick very different partners. Charlie picked his perfect match in Peter: he always wanted to marry a guy who’d be the perfect host and that’s what he has. He makes it his mission to put everyone at ease the second they walk into their home.
This isn’t difficult with Michael who seems to have one setting – permanently laid-back and at ease. We met last New Year’s Eve when I reversed out of my drive and hit his cat. The cat was fine but I was terrified at having to explain myself to a complete stranger. I needn’t have worried, Michael was just lovely. He was so completely concerned for me and the shock I’d had that I’d taken a gamble and asked him to Charlie’s house party. We’ve been together ever since.
The doorbell rings and I rush to open it, surprised that she didn’t just barge in.
‘What’s with all the plants?’ asks Patty, noticing the key change to the house as she looks around and is greeted by a jungle of foliage. She feels the leaves to check they’re not plastic. Neither of us could ever be described as green-fingered, so the rainforest of healthy-looking houseplants is rather out of place.
‘Michael starting bringing plants every time he came to dinner,’ I explain.
‘He comes a lot then.’
‘Well, he has to visit so they get watered. He realised that fairly quickly.’
‘So what else does he tend to when he’s here? Do the mattress springs need replacing, too?’
‘Patty! You could be just a little more subtle – ask me how things are going like a normal person would.’
She just shrugs.
‘Open that wine,’ I tell her, hoping to change the subject, ‘and tell me all about the cruise.’
Patty is more than happy to have the conversation turn to her adventures and we get through three-quarters of the bottle before the conversation turns back to my life.
‘The business is going well and I still love my job. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I’m happy,’ I tell her.
‘And how’s Zoe?’ she asks of my daughter.
‘She’s doing brilliantly. She applied for a secondment to their New York chain when Jamie got his contract out there. So now they’re both living the dream in the US of A and still totally besotted.’
‘Good for her,’ replies Patty. ‘So come on, it’s just us, tell me about Michael – are you besotted, too? How’s the love life going? Jack and I…’
I let her delight in the details of their love life and open another bottle in the hope that she forgets she’s asked about mine. No chance. As soon as she’s finished the tale of their last night at sea, she takes a gulp of wine and asks again.
‘For some people these things are private you know,’ I say, sounding more prudish than I’d intended. ‘Anyway, if you must know, we haven’t got that far.’
Patty sinks on to the sofa, eyebrows raised in disbelief.
‘You’
re kidding? In over three months?’
‘It isn’t that long is it? It’s flown past. Anyway, we’re taking it slowly, getting to know each other first. We get on so well,’ I say taking my own gulp of wine and deciding to get it off my chest. ‘And I really don’t want to cock it up like I did before.’
The first relationship I attempted after my divorce was just awful. It hadn’t been long but I’d thought I should be ‘getting back on the bike’ as people kept telling me. After all, my ex had no problem in bedding someone new. I wanted to show him that I could move on, too. In the end, I rushed things and it was a complete disaster, in fact quite humiliating.
‘I just cringe when I think about that now,’ I tell Patty. ‘I think I’d give up on sex completely if I ever had a session like that again.’
‘Oh girl, it won’t be like that,’ she replies putting her arm around me. ‘You weren’t ready back then but you really seem to like this one.’
I nod, I really do and that’s why I don’t want to cock things up. So, yes, I have taken my time with Michael. Maybe it seems a long time to others but I have a picture in my head of how our first time will be and that’s what I’m holding out for. It will be wonderful – I am determined it will be.
‘Then there’s this place,’ I say trying to lighten up the conversation. ‘Everywhere I look, I imagine you still here shouting out instructions. I half expect you to jump out of the wardrobe shouting “Surprise, Surprise”. It’s hardly conducive to romance.’
Patty guffaws then asks, ‘What about his place then?’
‘You mean where his wife died?’ I reply and Patty nods in understanding.
‘No, I’ve decided to wait until I move into my new place,’ I continue, ‘where hopefully there’ll be no one to haunt me and tell me I’m getting things wrong.
In a few weeks, I move into an apartment of my own. It’ll be the first place I’ve owned alone.
‘Going to christen every room then?’ Patty teases and gets a friendly thump.