When Summer Fades by Danielle Shaw Page B

in a chair waiting for Sophie to enlighten her.
    ‘I was thinking of a health club.’
    ‘A health club! Good grief, on our wages! You’re talking about two impoverished nurses here. Not the Spice Girls!’
    Sophie burst out laughing. ‘Sorry, Callie. I can think of many ways to describe us, Spice Girls we are not!’
    ‘Suppose not,’ Callie agreed, reaching for the remains of the chocolate hearts.
    Quick as a flash, Sophie turned and slapped her wrist. ‘No, you don't!’
    ‘But I’m hungry. I didn’t have any dinner.’
    ‘More fool you! Going without dinner, then filling yourself up with crisps and chocolates won’t help at all.’
    Preparing Callie a jacket potato, Sophie called from the kitchen. ‘There’s a pad and pen on the table. I want you to write Patrick Murphy’s name in big, bold letters at least twenty times. Don’t ask why, just do it!’
    Callie groaned seeing Sophie walk into the room with a pair of scissors, ‘Don’t tell me, now I slit my wrists so I bleed to death. ’Cos I can assure you there’s absolutely no danger of me pining away with all this excess weight I’m carrying.’
    ‘Don’t be so melodramatic. Simply cut the names in strips until you’ve got twenty pieces of paper, each with the name Patrick Murphy written in bold letters.’
    ‘You should have been a Blue Peter presenter.’
    ‘Well, here’s one I prepared earlier,’ Sophie said, placing a bowl of salad on the table. ‘And don’t you dare mention rabbit food. With a jacket potato and cottage cheese filling, this will make a tasty and nourishing meal.’
    Callie wrinkled up her nose in disgust. ‘I’m not convinced.’
    ‘Just try it!’
    ‘Can I have butter on the potato?’
    In response to Callie’s request Sophie waved a slip of paper in front of her face.
    ‘Mayonnaise?’ Callie pleaded in vain seeing the name Patrick Murphy dance yet again before her eyes. ‘Come on Sophie, what is this? We’ve already had Blue Peter. And as I’m so weak with hunger, I’m certainly not in the mood for Give Us a Clue .’
    ‘Stop complaining and eat!’ Sophie ordered, walking round the sitting-room placing slips of paper everywhere. With a bemused smile she watched Callie pick tentatively at her meal. ‘I can’t believe you’re not enjoying that,’ she said, leaning over her shoulder and sneaking a carrot stick.
    ‘Actually … it’s not as bad as I thought.’
    ‘Good. Now back to the health club.’
    ‘I’ve already told you we can’t possibly afford it. At least I can’t. I don’t know about you. Have you won the lottery?’
    ‘No. But I do know how we can afford it.’
    Nibbling on a piece of celery, Callie looked up. ‘OK, clever clogs. So tell me.’
    ‘Lottie and Pearl.’
    Callie’s mouth gaped open. ‘Lottie and Pearl? Bloody hell, Sophie! ‘You’re not suggesting we go on the game?’
    ‘In case you’d forgotten Lottie and Pearl are not , and never have been, on the game. Besides, that wasn’t what I had in mind.’
    ‘Thank heavens for that! For one minute you had me worried. Somehow I can’t see either of us swinging from the chandeliers or done up as French maids.’
    ‘Speak for yourself Miss Callaghan. Like you I’m not too keen on swinging from the chandeliers, I’m not much good at heights, but I can quite see myself done up as a—’
    ‘All right. All right. Don’t rub it in. So tell me, Mademoiselle Fifi, just where do Lottie and Pearl fit into my weight loss plan?’
    ‘It’s simple, I once helped Pearl’s boyfriend. He thought he was having a heart attack, but wouldn’t let Pearl call a doctor. She called me instead.’
    ‘I thought you said it was simple.’
    ‘As I was trying to explain, before I was so rudely interrupted, luckily it was only indigestion – not a heart attack. Maurice was so grateful he even offered me reduced membership at his health club.’
    Callie’s eyes widened in understanding. Surely Sophie didn’t mean that rather swish