well enough when he wants to,” says Aunty Karen scoffingly. “I’ve heard him at the karaoke bar. He does Adele, Pet Shop Boys … what else?” She thinks. “Wham! Lots of Wham! …”
“Could we get back on track?” says Jake, his smile a little fixed. “Not that this isn’t fascinating.”
“Yes. We should. Because I have something to announce—no, to ask you all. It’s rather …” Mum glances at Aunty Karen, who clearly knows what she’s about to say. For an instant I feel shut out—Mum’s been talking to Aunty Karen before us? But then that thought is swept away as Mum looks round the table at us and says, “I’ve had an offer on the shop.”
What?
There’s a startled silence. Jake’s eyebrows have shot up. Nicole murmurs, “Wow.” As for me, I’m beyond shock. An offer? For Farrs? Who would buy Farrs? We’re Farrs.
“We don’t want to sell,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “Do we?”
“Well,” says Mum. “That’s the question. I’m not as young as I was, and things have … changed.”
“Your mum needs a rest,” puts in Aunty Karen. “And it’s good money.”
“How much?” demands Jake, and Mum slides a piece of paper into the middle of the table.
It’s never even occurred to me to think how much Farrs might be worth. But it’s a lot. We all stare at it silently, and I can sense our brains are reconfiguring the facts of our lives.
“Your mum could retire. Put her feet up. Buy a little place in Spain near me,” says Aunty Karen.
“But this is so weird. How come you’ve had an offer now?” I stare at Mum, suddenly stricken. “Oh God, this isn’t some kind of ambulance chaser, is it?”
“No!” Mum laughs. “Love, the truth is, we’ve had offers to sell all the time over the years. Never wanted to, before. But after everything that’s happened …”
I look at the piece of paper again, my brain doing new sums. Yes, it’s a lot of money, but if that means the end of Farrs, of our incomes, of our jobs … then it doesn’t seem that much, after all.
“Do you want to sell?” I ask Mum. I’m trying my hardest to sound neutral. Pragmatic. Supportive. All those grown-up things. But even so, I can feel my eyes glistening as the idea really hits me.
Sell? Our beloved Farrs? Dad’s beloved Farrs?
I look up, and as she sees my expression, Mum’s guard drops.
“Oh, Fixie,” she says, and reaches a hand across the table to squeeze mine. “Of course I don’t want to. But I don’t want to burden you children either. If I’m going to step back, what then? Running Farrs is hard. It’s full-time. It’s got to be what you want to do. Not just for me. Or for Dad.”
She’s blinking too now, and her cheeks are rosy. I think Mum and I are the only ones in the family who feel Dad’s presence every time we step into that shop. Jake only sees money. And Nicole sees … I have no idea what Nicole sees. Unicorns, probably.
“I want to do it,” I say without hesitation. “I don’t want to give up. Mum, go to Spain and don’t worry. We’ll run the business. Won’t we?” I look at Jake and Nicole, trying to get their support.
“I agree,” says Jake, to my surprise. “I think Farrs has great potential.” He jabs the piece of paper. “I mean, this is all very well, but we could double that figure. Treble it.”
“What about you, Nicole?” says Mum, turning to her, and Nicole shrugs.
“If you wanted to sell, I’d be, like … fair enough,” she says in her drifty, absent way. “But if you don’t want to, then, like …”
We all wait for her to finish her sentence—then realize she has finished her sentence.
“Well,” says Mum, and her cheeks are even rosier. “I have to say, I’m relieved. I don’t want to sell Farrs. It’s a good outfit, though I say so myself.”
“This is a bird in the hand, though,” says Aunty Karen, picking up the paper and brandishing it. “This is solid cash. Security. If you don’t sell now, you might regret it.”
“If Mum does sell now, she might regret it,” counters Jake. “You know what I think?” He looks around the table, his face animated. “This is an opportunity to take our small family business to the next level. Turbocharge it. We’ve got the name, the premises, the online presence … I mean, the sky’s the limit. But we need