Page 24 of Barging In

Victoria grinned as she began slicing the sandwiches.

“I had the idea to create a sort of homage to corsetry, which led me to Jasper. We hit it off straight away. I couldn’t have done all this without him.

He showed interest in my ideas and was passionate about my vision; he was someone I could bounce ideas off — unlike Drew, who showed no interest. He was all about money.

Still is.” She paused, took a deep breath, and continued.

“So Jasper and I decided to set up the museum to bring years of research and history together in one collection. It’s another reason I can’t let it fail. I’d be failing Jasper.”

“You will fail no one as long as you try your best,” Clem reassured her. “That’s all anyone can ask of you.”

“What if my best isn’t good enough?” Victoria asked, the words catching slightly in her throat. “My skills lie in developing sites for use. I’m not proficient in generating a profit from them. Once I finished the wharf, I had no idea what I was doing.”

“I’d say you’ve done a pretty fine job getting it to where it is today. You might need a little help taking it to the next stage, but there’s no shame in that. Even the best entrepreneurs know when to call in the experts. You asked me when you needed cake. Delegate more often.”

Victoria nodded. It made sense, where she could afford it, but it didn’t stop her feeling inadequate, especially when it came to the simpler task of baking. Her mum had been so convinced that she was destined for academic greatness that her education in domestic duties fell by the wayside.

“So where is this husband of yours?” Clem asked, scraping the last of the egg mayonnaise from its tub.

Victoria’s cheeks burned at the directness of the question.

She felt stupid for mentioning Drew. Clem had likely taken it as an invitation to talk about him.

Since they were growing closer, Victoria supposed it was inevitable the subject would resurface, no matter how much she wanted it to stay buried.

With reluctance, she said, “You might have already guessed we don’t exactly have a… conventional marriage. But he’ll be here. He promised.” Not that his promises were worth much.

“And so he should be. One year is something to celebrate.”

“Well — fifty, actually,” Victoria mumbled.

“What?” Clem paused, then set down her spatula.

“It’s my birthday today,” she confessed.

“What! Are you serious? Happy birthday!”

Before Victoria knew it, Clem was hugging her. She couldn’t even reciprocate easily because of the knife she was holding, but she tried.

Clem stepped back and gave her a playful nudge with her shoulder, a nudge that made Victoria’s breath hitch.

“That comment yesterday about you not quite being fifty: total failure on your part to mention it was only a few hours away. ”

Victoria shrugged. “I try not to dwell on it.” She picked up some cut sandwiches and took them to the other side of the island to arrange them on a platter.

“What? It’s something to celebrate! Fifty is a huge milestone. A whole half-century,” Clem teased.

“Yes! Thank you for the reminder,” Victoria said dryly.

At that, Clem fell into silence, but Victoria noticed something shift in her face, a flicker in her eyes. Her mouth was poised to say something, but she didn’t speak. Victoria had seen it before.

“What do you want to say?” she prompted.

Clem looked up. “Oh, erm, just that… I won’t tell anyone. In case you worried that I would. You know, about what I saw.”

Victoria paused. It hadn’t occurred to her that Clem would say anything, and anyway, who would she tell?

“I wasn’t worried.”

“Oh, good,” Clem said, relief audible in her tone. “So… do you have family coming?”

“Family!” Victoria let out a long breath. “No. My brother emigrated to Canada, and my parents live in the Lake District. We all lead very separate lives.”

“That’s sad.”

Victoria twitched her shoulders. “Is it?”

She’d made peace with her solitude a long time ago. When it came down to it, Jasper was the only person in her corner, not Drew. A long time had passed since he had been that to her — or since she had thought he was. All he did now was make her feel more alone.

“Yes, it is,” Clem insisted. “My parents annoy me sometimes — well, Mum mostly — but I wouldn’t be without her. Did you have a falling-out?”

“No, not exactly. I grew weary of carrying the weight of other people’s expectations. As I got older, I realised I didn’t have to.”

“Oh.”

Concerned that Clem’s intense gaze might coax more out than she was ready to give, Victoria turned her attention back to the last sandwich and asked, “Have you eaten?”

“I had some banana bread before I opened up.”

“You can’t live off cake,” Victoria chided, “as tempting as it might be. Here.” She cut the ham sandwich in two and handed Clem one half. “I don’t want you passing out on me.”

Clem gave a small smile as she accepted the offering. “Thanks.”

Victoria tucked into the other half and watched as Clem attacked hers like a feral goat — albeit a rather charming one.

With energy levels restored and everything laid out on silver platters, wrapped in cling film, and packed into the fridge, their work was complete.

“Is Max looking after Florence for you?”

Clem nodded. “He’s a lifesaver. He’ll close up as soon as things quieten down.”

“Thank him from me. And thank you, again, for swooping in and rescuing me. I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you — or if I really deserve it.”

Clem tilted her head, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth.“Help often comes from the places we least expect.”

“It seems so.” Victoria met her gaze, the hint of a blush rising to her cheeks.

“And for the record,” Clem said, leaning in slightly, her voice lower, “I only swoop when the cause is absolutely necessary and deserving. ”

Victoria wasn’t sure how to respond to that or to Clem’s soft, disarming smile. She matched it as best she could. “If you are out of pocket at all, you must let me cover everything.”

She was all too aware of how much Clem had given her already in time, effort, and kindness. The last thing she wanted was for her to be financially burdened.

“It’s fine,” Clem said, shaking her head. “It’s nice to get a break and do something different.”

“You mean make sausage rolls within four different walls?”

“Something like that.” Clem chuckled. “Florence can get a little claustrophobic.”

“You don’t need to tell me. I went inside one of those things many years ago. I’m not in a hurry to repeat the experience.”

Clem pulled a wry moue. “Noted.”

“But I am going to insist on repaying you for today by cooking you dinner one evening.”

“That would be lovely,” Clem said, her expression brightening into one of her enormous smiles. “After spending all day in the kitchen, the last thing I feel like is cooking.”

“That’s a date then. I mean an, erm…” Victoria grew flustered, heat rising in her cheek as she battled her brain for help rephrasing the sentence. She soon gave up. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

“I do.” Clem smiled. “And I’m looking forward to it — not just for a peek inside of your house.”

“Noted,” Victoria returned. Emboldened by their easy conversation and newly formed truce, she added, “Whilst I’m already pushing my luck…”

Clem raised a perfectly timed eyebrow. “Yes? ”

“Were you serious this morning when you said ‘anytime’?”

“Erm. I guess. Why?”

Though she was tempted to backtrack based on Clem’s suddenly uncertain tone, desperation spurred Victoria on.

“I don’t suppose I could impose upon you to supply me regularly with cakes. Just until I sort out a new catering manager?”

Clem’s forehead creased in mock offence. “You’d go back to your shitty cakes then, would you?”

“Ideally not.” Victoria laughed. “I will definitely be voting to keep them.”

Victoria watched Clem’s face twitch.

“I’d need orders in advance,” she finally said. “No dropping panic bakes on me.”

“Everything would come through Emma,” Victoria reassured her. “She could give you forty-eight hours’ notice. Would that be enough?”

Clem gave a firm nod. “It would.”

“Thank you,” Victoria said with relief, feeling lighter at the prospect of one problem finding a resolution.

“I haven’t told you my terms yet,” Clem said, hands resting firmly on her hips.

“Go on,” Victoria said, drawing in a breath.

“I will supply you at twenty per cent under my retail price — on one condition: You don’t undercut me. I rely on passing trade, and you have something to attract people, so I don’t want to see any of your special offers. Okay?”

Victoria thrust out her hand. “Deal.”

Clem took it. Her grip was firm and warm, like her eyes. Victoria held on, meeting Clem’s gaze and mirroring her smile. The warm, tingling sensation spreading through her body made Victoria reluctant to let go.

The kitchen door burst open then, and they jumped apart like teenagers caught doing something they shouldn’t.

“I’m here! Don’t panic!” Jasper hollered as he strode in, arms raised like a Roman emperor greeting his subjects, a packet of balloons in one hand. His eyes landed on Clem, then flicked between them both. “Clem! Very nice to see you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, not at all,” Victoria replied, her voice a little too high to sound convincing.

She hoped Jasper hadn’t noticed and flashed him a smile.

The faint twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise.

“Clem’s been assisting me with the food, and she’s made us some rather lovely cakes.

Everything’s in the fridge, ready for later. ”

Jasper headed over for a look. “What a feast!” he said, eyes wide as he took it all in. “You’re a marvel, Clem. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. There’s no coffee and walnut, I’m afraid.”

“Well, aren’t you the party pooper,” Jasper deadpanned, giving her a wink as he closed the fridge door. He stepped towards Victoria, pulling her into a hug. “Happy birthday to you.”

“Thank you,” she replied, returning Jasper’s squeeze.

The warmth of it brought Clem’s embrace to mind.

As Jasper pulled away, she found herself wishing it had been Clem’s arms around her again.

Something about the woman made Victoria feel lighter, as though her problems weren’t quite so big. Safe , she realised. She felt safe.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Jasper said, cutting through her thoughts. “I have fifty-odd balloons to blow up.”

He took a balloon from the packet and started stretching it. As he reached the door, it opened; Max strode in, bumping straight into Jasper .

“Oh!” Max blustered as he turned a deep shade of pink. “Sorry.”

“Entirely my fault, old chap,” Jasper reassured him. “What can we do for you?”

“Erm, the woman at the counter said to come through.” His eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights, until he spotted Clem. “I’ve locked up Florence for you, Clem.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Jasper stood back, rested his hands on his hips, and gave Max an appraising glance. “You look like the kind of man who can blow well.”

Max stuttered and then said with a cheeky smile, “I’ve had no complaints so far.”

“Oh, really?” Jasper’s eyes widened. “Can I borrow you? I can’t promise to give you back.”

“Fine by me.” Max shrugged.

He threw the keys at Clem, who barely caught them, and looked about as startled as Victoria felt at the men’s banter.

Jasper linked his arm through Max’s. “Marvellous. Now, you ladies shoo. Go make yourselves look even more beautiful for the party. Leave the rest to us.”

“Um, I’m not…” Clem began but then busied herself giving the worktop another wipe.

Jasper raised an eyebrow at Victoria, shooting her a pointed glare. She knew exactly what he was suggesting. How the idea hadn’t come to her independently was frustrating to consider.

“Toodle-pip!” Jasper called, leading Max from the kitchen.

Once they were alone again, Victoria idly realised she hadn’t thanked Max for freeing Clem up. There would be another time, though; right now, she needed to focus on settling the flutter of nerves in her stomach. She turned to Clem.

“Would you come to the party?”

The smile tugging at Clem’s lips told Victoria she’d asked the right question.

“I’d love to, but there’s just one problem.”

Victoria’s smile faltered. Of course there would be a problem.

“I’m not sure there’s enough food,” Clem teased.

“How much do you intend on eating?” Victoria goggled.

“Well, I heard that the cakes and scones were the creation of the ‘best’ baker in town, so I’m going to struggle to hold myself back.”

“Ha. You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Nope,” Clem said with a firm shake of the head.

“Come on. I’ll see you out. I need a breath of fresh air.”

Victoria led them into the courtyard, which was quiet except for the babble of the fountain.

The warm afternoon sun was casting long shadows over the uneven cobbles.

She often imagined how it must have felt to stand here one hundred and fifty years ago, when the factory was busy with industry.

The air would have been heavy with coal smoke and oil, the clatter of machines spilling from the windows.

Horse-drawn carts would have rattled over the cobbles, ferrying crates of finished corsets to waiting boats as foremen shouted orders. It would have been alive — unlike now.

“Thanks again,” she said softly, turning to Clem. “For everything.”

“I was happy I could help. I’ll see you later.”

“You most certainly will,” Victoria said with a smile as Clem backed away.

Disappointment hit her as she then turned and crossed the courtyard. What had she expected? Another wink? A glance back? The absence of both made Victoria feel strangely hollow.

As she drove home, she had to remind herself it was her fiftieth birthday — a milestone, as Clem had said, and one she’d dreaded for a long time.

All she could think about now was the woman who’d turned up to help and made sure everything ran smoothly.

Clem hadn’t known it was her birthday or just how important the party really was to her; regardless, she’d shown up.

That stirred something in Victoria she hadn’t expected, a feeling she wasn’t sure she wanted to let go of.