If anyone needs to worry, it’s me,” I add, to emphasize the point. “It’s me.”
“Hmm,” says Suze, looking unconvinced.
“Suze, what are you implying?” I can’t help sounding hurt. “You think I’m going to have an affair?”
“I didn’t say that,” Suze answers after a pause. “I just…” She hesitates. “I know how stuff can happen. You have to be careful.”
Her gaze is averted—and again I know she’s referring to her own moment of madness in the summer.
“You needn’t worry,” I say with dignity. “My marriage is safe.”
For a while we’re both silent again. Suze is still unloading cardigans, and I start putting them on the display rack.
“So are you going to Craig’s Christmas party?” Suze says after a while, and I feel a little stab of guilt. Suddenly I get it. Suze feels left out. That’s what this is.
“We’ll all go,” I say firmly. “And, Suze, you have to come next time we meet up. Oh, and do you want to come to the Christmas Style Fair with me on Thursday?” I add, remembering. “Mum’s pulled out. I’ll pay for the extra cover for the shop. We can ask Irene’s niece; she’s always happy to do it. All my treat.”
“Oh, Bex,” says Suze, looking torn. “I would have loved to. But I’ve got this big project I want to finish over the next couple of days. I’m going to have to say no.”
“What big project?” I stare at her in surprise. This is the first time I’ve heard of any big project.
“Just…something for the shop,” she says vaguely. “You’ll see.”
“What?” I demand.
“It’s a secret. You’ll like it,” she adds with a grin. “I promise. In fact, you’ll love it. But I need all of Thursday to get it done.”
“OK. No worries.”
I think for a moment, wondering who else I can ask. Jess is in Cumbria, and she wouldn’t approve of the Christmas Style Fair, anyway. She’d stride around, gazing sternly at the stallholders, telling them they shouldn’t sell chili-pepper fairy lights, they should make candles out of recycled chilis, or just sit in the dark as nature intended.
Then I have an idea. I take out my phone and text Janice:
Hi, Janice! Do you want to come to the Christmas Style Fair on Thursday with me? I have a spare ticket. Becky xxx
Almost at once I get an answer:
Oh, love, how wonderful! Yes, please! Looking forward to it already! Janice xxx
She sounds so excited, I feel a glow of pleasure. Janice was exactly the right person to ask. I’ll book her a nice lunch and everything. It’ll be fun!
Will send you electronic ticket and see you in there. Yay! Becky xxx
I’m about to put my phone away when another text arrives from Janice:
Aren’t you going with your mum, though? Or is she too busy in “Shoreditch”? Janice xxx
Oh God. Look at those quote marks. Those are totally snippy quote marks. I don’t want to stir up any trouble between them, so I think for a moment, then send back a deliberately vague answer:
She’s busy! Never mind, we’ll have fun! Better go now! xx
As I put my phone away, Suze glances at her watch and moves toward the shop door to open it. But I don’t feel we’re quite done with our conversation.
“Suze, wait,” I say impulsively, and she turns round.
“What?”
“I know you mean well,” I say earnestly. “But you mustn’t worry. I’m not going to have an affair with Craig.”
“Well, just don’t, will you?” she returns with energy. “Because it would ruin Christmas.”
Ruin Christmas? OK, even though I’m absolutely not planning on committing adultery, I have to take issue with this statement.
“No, it wouldn’t,” I contradict her. “No one would know.”
“Yes, they would,” Suze scoffs. “You’re hopeless at keeping secrets, Bex. You’d probably come in on Christmas Day and say, ‘What do you think of my Having an Affair skirt? Isn’t it fab?’ ”
I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.
* * *
—
For the rest of the day, we’re really busy in the shop and neither of us mentions Craig, so I assume this means the subject is over. We sell a stack of Suze’s homemade photo frames (on special offer), two walking sticks, a tweed coat, a couple of hampers, and loads of jam. At lunchtime Suze and I help Irene find a nice sweater for her niece in Australia, after visiting about six hundred websites, tabbing them all, and nearly crashing the computer. (I hadn’t realized quite how indecisive Irene was.)