Ladies Who Launch by Milly Johnson Page B

I was going to ask for the number of the firm you use because the one I’ve got isn’t much cop. She
doesn’t do skirting boards. Bending hurts her back, she says. At least she can bend. I’ve forgotten what my feet look like.’
    ‘I’ll text you the details of Diamond Shine, the company I use,’ replied Selina. ‘Cheryl’s great. She does all those little things you never get around to doing
like vacuuming underneath the sofa and cleaning inside the kitchen cupboards and, joy of joy, she changes my bedding.’
    ‘I’m so glad you’re coming back to live in Barnsley,’ smiled Angie.
    ‘So am I,’ Selina grinned back.
    Selina owned and ran a small private school in Harrogate where she and her staff taught adults to read and also provided some languages and typing skills. It was doing well enough for her to
leave it in capable hands and open up a second establishment back in her home town. She had bought the old schoolhouse villa in Barnsley which had fallen into disrepair after being empty for years,
and planned to both live and run the new school from it.
    Angie’s eyes started glittering with tears. ‘It’ll be great having you to keep me sane when the baby comes. Sorry, it’s my hormones. I’m all over the
place.’
    Selina leaned over the table and gave her friend a comforting rub on the arm. ‘You soft thing.’
    Angie sniffed and Selina whipped a serviette out of a holder on the table. She handed it over and said, ‘Doesn’t seem like a year and a half since
that
cruise, does
it?’
    Angie shook her head.
That
cruise had changed both their lives. If it hadn’t been for
that
cruise, Angie probably would have left it far too late to get pregnant, not
realised what a fabulous husband she had in Gil because she was too busy staring into a rose-tinted past and as for Selina … well, she wouldn’t be half as bright and strong and smiley
as she was today. They were both much happier women for their paths crossing again after so many years apart. Two decades to be exact.
    ‘Have you any more of those prawn sandwiches in that Marie Celeste sauce?’ a portly cleaner shouted over to Patricia.
    ‘It’s not Marie Celeste, Meg. She were that queen that got her head cut off,’ someone else shouted back.
    ‘That’s Marie Antoinette, Sandra.’ A silky, younger voice with refined rounded vowels. ‘The
Marie Celeste
was a ship found deserted.’
    ‘Was it the
Flying Dutchman
?’
    ‘Sandra, you daft cow, how can the
Marie Celeste
be the
Flying Dutchman
?’
    ‘Ze standard of education in England is crap.’ This from the very tall woman with the long hair. ‘I sank Gott my formative years vere spent in Germany.’
    The fit of giggles Angie fell into drove away any lingering tears.
    Selina picked up a pastry filled with cheese and red onion. It was warm and crumbled against her teeth.
    ‘I was telling Cheryl about us last week,’ she said. ‘She’d had a row with her partner and was upset, so I sat her down and forced her to have a cup of tea with me. I
felt very sorry for her. I recognised her “if we split up I won’t be able to cope by myself” look.’
    ‘Poor lass,’ sighed Angie. In saying that, she wouldn’t know how she would cope if she and her husband Gil split up. He was rock solid, kind, loving – she’d been so
much luckier than Selina in her choice of man.
    ‘Oh, she’s okay now. I saw her on Monday and she told me they made up.’
    ‘That’s good. Anyway, what did you tell her about us?’ asked Angie.
    ‘That we were best pals at school but lost touch and then met up on a cruise the year before last. And how my life is very different today because of our adventure.’
    ‘Our
adventure
is putting it mildly,’ laughed Angie. ‘And are you really crediting me with your divorce?’
    ‘I am.’
    ‘Please.’ Angie puffed out her cheeks. ‘Zander being an arsehole made up your mind for you.’
    Selina popped a truffle in her mouth and purred. ‘That was one