Ladies Who Launch Read Online Free PDF Page A

insides had been scooped out. At least that’s what it felt like as she stood in
her tiny kitchen, hand shaking as she gripped the page of paper which had ended her life as she knew it.
    She wished life were like TV. She wished she could press the rewind button back to just before she had opened the letter. She wished she had put it on one side until she returned from work so
that Gary could have found it first and had time to think up an excuse which she might have swallowed and life would have carried on as normal. But she
had
opened it and what she had found
could not be unread. An hour ago she had been making breakfast toast and tea for two whilst Gary was taking a shower and it was just a normal Thursday morning; two more days at work to get out of
the way and then the familiar joy of the weekend to look forward to: fish and chips from Cod’s Gift with Gary for Saturday lunch as usual, a bottle of wine and some beers in front of
Ant
and Dec
on the TV. Now she was alone – single – and couldn’t think past the moment. And her heart had been ripped out and stamped all over.
    The postman hardly ever came first thing in the morning, but today he had. And he had delivered three envelopes: one containing a catalogue full of rubbishy gadgets, a dental reminder for Cheryl
and
that
envelope from the building society. A quarterly statement. And Cheryl had opened it and found that the account which should have had four thousand seven hundred and twenty pounds
in it, had a nil balance.
    She didn’t know how long she stood there, unable to move, listening to Gary mooching about upstairs. She imagined him towel-drying his thick light-brown hair, spraying a cloud of Lynx over
himself, getting dressed, blissfully unaware of what trauma his long-term girlfriend was going through. Cheryl heard his feet on the stairs, watched the door into the kitchen open. She saw his eyes
lock on to the paper she was holding, then flick up to her face and from the expression she was wearing, he knew instantly what she had discovered.
    The words came out in a croak. ‘Where’s it gone, Gary? Where’s the money?’ It was a rhetorical question because she knew. She would have bet her life savings –
oh, the irony
– that the money was in the till of William Hill.
    Gary’s eyes began to flicker, which they did when he was anxious. She knew that his brain would be scrabbling around for something viable to tell her.
    ‘You won’t believe me …’ he began eventually. No, she wouldn’t. Because she had wanted to believe him every single time and every single time he had let her
down.
    ‘Try me,’ she said. Deep down she wished he would say those words which would make it all right. But also, deeper down, she knew he wouldn’t.
    ‘You weren’t supposed to know. I was hoping to have it back in the account before you noticed,’ he said. His hands were in his hair. ‘Oh God, Chez, I am so sorry. I
thought I could do it. One last time. For us. For the ba—’
    ‘No!’ The loudness in her own voice surprised her. ‘Don’t you dare say it. Don’t you DARE.’
    He had used those same words eighteen months ago. He had taken the money she had scrimped and squirrelled away for IVF treatment in the hope of doubling it, trebling it even, he said. He’d
been given a tip – a sure thing from someone in the know. She would never forget the name of the horse as long as she lived –
Babyface
. He had put every penny on its nose and
it had come in second. And he had cried and she had comforted him and told him that she forgave him but this was the last chance – no more gambling. And he had given her his word that he
would never bet on another horse or dog ever. And she had started saving all over again and had been stupid enough to give him the benefit of the doubt and keep their joint account going as a sign
of her trust in his ability to change.
    But he would never change, she knew that now. They’d reached the end of the road.