a team of removers. They’ve packed away about half the stock, got rid of the display tables, put up lights and a bar for drinks. A DJ has set up speakers and a laptop. There are also massive posters everywhere, with Nicole’s face blown up huge and MEET THE FACE OF FARRS, printed at the bottom.
I mean, to be fair, it does look amazing. It just doesn’t look much like a shop. Let alone our shop.
“So, who’s coming tonight?” inquires Hannah.
“Up to Jake.” I spread my hands. “This is his thing. He says it’s a ‘curated’ guest list.”
“Oh, curated,” says Hannah, and shoots me a sardonic look, which I return.
Hannah is the only person to whom I will ever be disloyal about the family, because basically she is family. So she knows what I think of Jake. And all Jake’s ideas.
“He went through the customer database,” I tell her, lowering my voice. “And he chose all the ones with posh post codes.”
“Posh post codes!” echoes Hannah incredulously. “What counts as posh?”
“God knows. And he’s got an ‘influencer’ coming. This YouTube girl called Kitten Smith. And the local press. And we’ve all got to look ‘glamorous and sophisticated.’ Jake gave all the staff a lecture today. Poor Morag looked totally freaked out.”
“Well, you look very glamorous and sophisticated,” says Hannah loyally, and I roll my eyes with a grin. I went to get a blow-dry this afternoon, but no way was I splashing out on a new dress, so I’m in the dark green shift I wore to be Nicole’s bridesmaid. “What does your mum think?” Hannah adds. “Isn’t this costing a fortune?”
“Mum’s OK with it,” I say with a shrug. “She says it’s Jake’s thing and it’s harmless enough.”
I try not to give away my sense of betrayal. I phoned Mum up two weeks ago because I was worried about all Jake’s grandiose party plans. I wanted her to agree with me and tell him to rein it in—but she said, “Ah, love, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” in her easy way. And I didn’t want to press it and cause stress and ruin her holiday. So here we are.
“There’s a red carpet when you come in,” says Hannah, her mouth twitching. “A red carpet.”
“I know,” I say. “Jake says it’s for ‘VIP photo opportunities.’ ” I meet her eye and bite my lip and suddenly I can feel giggles rising up. It all seems so ridiculous. Although maybe Mum’s right—maybe Jake understands promotion in a way we don’t.
“He’s given the shop a total makeover,” I add. “Him and Nicole. They insisted. They want it all to look more ‘cool.’ You know Nicole’s started yoga classes?”
“I got her email.” Hannah nods. “To be honest, I thought, Why would you do yoga at Farrs?”
“Exactly! But she’s got about six friends who do it, and she keeps moving the front displays and it’s been so disruptive. She and Jake have cut the food storage department by half, and they’ve lost the jam-making department completely, and Jake’s brought in these really expensive garden lanterns that his friend imports. I mean, garden lanterns when we don’t have a garden department!” My voice rises with indignation. “Why are we stocking them but not the full range of storage containers?”
“I know,” says Hannah sympathetically, and I belatedly remember that I ranted to her about this a few days ago. “But there’s nothing you can do about that now, is there? Try to forget about it, Fix. Enjoy the evening.” She tops up my glass. “Is Ryan coming?”
“As soon as he finishes at work,” I say with a nod.
“And how’s it going?” She raises her eyebrows meaningfully.
“His work, you mean? Or us?”
“Both,” she says. “Everything.”
“Well, we’re great,” I say firmly. “We’re like an old married couple.”
And it’s true: I’ve felt really close to Ryan these last weeks. It’s all so natural and lovely. I’ve come to expect his presence in the house, once, twice, or even three times a week. And our relationship is …
Well.
I mean, it’s a bit different from the way I imagined. We don’t have quite as much sex as I thought we would. There was that one time, when we first got together, and since then it’s been … I guess the word would be sporadic. Or maybe intermittent. Five times in total is what it boils down to. In a month.
But what that says to me is that Ryan needs to be nurtured. He needs to heal. He’s been through