tried to decipher why Rory’s message left me feeling so deflated. Because I wasn’t seeing him? Because it was Sunday evening? Because I was still fretting about what Cressida had told me? Or because what I really wanted was to be with someone who’d come over to scoop me up and ask about my weekend even if he was presenting to the frigging UN the next day?
We had pizza in the end and I paid for it, obviously.
‘GOOD NEWS!’ said Zach, running upstairs in the shop the next morning and flinging his arms into the air like an evangelical priest.
I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘You’ve cleaned out the fridge?’
Zach shook his head.
‘Someone has emailed you saying you are the sole beneficiary of a fifty-three-million-pound will after everyone else died in mysterious circumstances?’
Another shake.
‘They’ve discovered a new and entirely painless way to remove tattoos?’
‘Very amusing. But no. The agent’s interested in your Curtis story.’
‘WHAT? You’re kidding me. Zach, don’t joke about this.’
‘I’m not joking, I literally just got an email from her. She likes it and says could I put you guys in touch.’
I put my palms to my forehead. ‘This is mad. I never thought… I didn’t think… I—’
Zach was jumping from one foot to the other, grinning at me. ‘So can I do it? Can I put you in touch?’
‘Course,’ I said, with a laugh. ‘I mean, yes please, thank you.’
He reached his hand out to high-five me across the counter and our palms slapped just as Norris appeared, pinching a red furry jacket between his fingers and holding it out in front of him.
‘Zachary, what is this and why was it addressed to me?’
Zach’s face became more serious. ‘Ah, yes. That’s your outfit for Thursday evening. Part of it, anyway.’
‘What am I expected to do with it?’
‘Wear it, Uncle Norris. Where’s the rest of it? There should be some trousers. And a belt. And a hat.’
Eugene sniggered from the history section.
‘Funny, is it?’ said Norris, spinning round and glaring at him.
‘Ignore Eugene,’ said Zach, ‘he’s got his own costume.’
‘Excuse me,’ said Eugene, hurrying over. ‘I didn’t know anything about this.’
Zach leant back against the shelves. ‘It was going to be a surprise but seeing as we’re all so uptight and anti-fun in this shop, I’ll tell you. I’ve bought us all costumes for Thursday.’
‘What am I?’ Eugene asked warily.
‘You are an elf.’
I snorted from behind the till.
Zach raised his eyebrows at me. ‘Florence, I wouldn’t get too cocky because you’re a Christmas pudding.’
‘Ha!’ barked Eugene.
‘And Norris is Father Christmas.’
Norris grunted.
‘What about you?’ I asked. ‘You can’t be the only one who gets away with it.’
‘No, you’re right,’ said Zach. ‘I will be attending the party as Mr Snowman.’
‘How many kids are coming?’
‘About fifty at the moment. So I thought you, Uncle Norris, could be stationed in a chair up here and hand out presents from your sack? Then a few carols with mulled wine and mince pies. If you guys don’t mind being in charge of handing those out? They’re being delivered on Thursday afternoon.’
‘What sack?’ said Norris.
‘I’ve bought you one. And presents. Don’t worry.’
‘How much is all this costing me?’
‘Very cheap. All made in China.’
‘Zachary…’ Norris growled again.
He held his hands in the air. ‘I’m joking, I’m joking. Sort of. But come on, where’s the community spirit? That’s what we need. And Florence, I’m going to email this agent back right now and loop you in.’
He bounded back downstairs and I wondered whether my Christmas pudding costume might, in fact, be more flattering than my bridesmaid dress.
I walked to Rory’s after work, happily weaving my way through the shoppers, untroubled by their lethargic pace. Zach had emailed the agent. Jacinta, she was called, and she’d emailed me straight back suggesting a coffee the following week. Just seeing her name and email signature in my inbox – Jacinta Ewing, Millward & Middleton Literary Agents Ltd – gave me a kick.
‘Darling, how brilliant!’ said Rory, when I’d explained the news. ‘Although…’
‘What?’
‘It’s just a meeting.’
‘I know. But a meeting’s more than I’ve ever had before.’
‘Of course. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.’
I felt squashed but didn’t want to let it sour the evening. I wanted one night where I didn’t feel a spasm of insecurity about this relationship. One night where it felt like it had at the start.
‘How was Prague?’ I asked, laying my head on his shoulder. We were sitting on the sofa while Rory wrote emails on his laptop.