the practiced pathological liar, spinning some vile story. I recall his easy voice that morning: “Oh, I took some chewing gum out of your bag. You don’t mind, do you?” But chewing gum wasn’t the only thing he took.
He is a toxic, terrible, bad, bad man. I’m shaking all over, with rage at Ryan, rage at myself….
“Fixie?” Hannah has knelt down before me and taken my hands. “Fixie, we’re getting worried here. What’s happened?”
I look at her kind, familiar face and I can’t be strong anymore. I know we’re busy on the shop floor. I know it’s five days till Christmas. I know I should put this aside for now. But it’s too big. It’s burning a hole in me.
So I take a deep breath and I tell her and Nicole everything. I start right from the beginning, right from that first meeting in the coffee shop, although they already know some of it. Because that way I feel like I’m in control of something, even if it’s just my own story.
It takes a while and they listen in pin-drop silence. When I get to my new theory about Ryan, they both exclaim, “No!” in simultaneous horror, and I half-smile, despite everything.
“So what do you do now?” says Hannah, who is always practical and forward-looking and has already got a pen out of her bag.
“Tell him,” says Nicole.
“You have to tell him,” agrees Hannah.
“Go and see him—”
“Explain there’s been a misunderstanding—”
“But he’s taken!” I say despairingly. “He’s with someone! I don’t take other women’s men, I just don’t. It’s the rule. It’s the sisterhood.”
There’s silence and I sip my cup of tea, which has gone lukewarm but is still comforting.
“I mean, what if the other woman is a total bitch?” says Hannah at last, casually. “Because then I think that rule doesn’t apply.”
“She’s not a bitch.” I can’t believe I’m coming to the defense of Whiny, but there you go. “At least, she’s not terrible. She’s bright and she makes him laugh and they go skiing together….”
“Oh, well, skiing,” says Hannah sardonically. “Fixie, anyone can ski with someone! You and Seb, you have something amazing. And you can’t let it slip away.”
“I don’t know.” I try to imagine calling up Seb, broaching the subject…and I quail. What if I’m wrong? What if there’s a million other reasons he doesn’t want to be with me?
“I need to get back to work.” I change the subject. “It’s not fair on the others. Friday afternoons always get frantic.”
“OK,” says Hannah, rising to her feet. “But you have to do something.”
“Maybe.” I bite my lip. “I dunno. I need to think. Really think.”
“All right, go home tonight,” says Hannah firmly. “Have a long, peaceful bath. Really think about it.” She pauses. “And then call him.”
I put my cup down and get to my feet. As I do so, my phone bleeps with a text, and my chest stiffens in hope.
“Is that him?” says Nicole at once.
“Have a look!” says Hannah. “I bet you anything it’s him.”
“I had a psychic feeling he was going to text.” Nicole nods. “I just had this feeling.”
“I’m sure it’s not him,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket with trembling fingers. “I’m sure it’s not— There, you see, it’s from Mum.”
I click on the text—and stop dead. For a brief moment, Seb has been swept from my mind. I’m staring at the words in disbelief. I’m not sure I can take this in.
“What?” demands Nicole. “What does she say?”
In silence, I hold out the phone so everyone can see the words:
Coming home for Christmas after all! Can’t wait to see you! Arriving Sunday morning in time for lunch! All my love, Mum xxx
“The house,” whispers Nicole in horror.
“The kitchen.” I gulp.
“The shop.” And now both our eyes are widening as the full scope of the situation hits us.
“Christmas.”
Twenty-Seven
By ten on Sunday morning I’ve had approximately two and a half hours’ sleep and I’m wired, but I’m on it. I’m so on it.
We got back on Friday night and tackled the house, all of us—me, Nicole, Jake, and Leila, who insisted on bringing her Dustbuster over. Jake was on bathrooms, and I take my hat off to him—he volunteered for it. I was on the kitchen. Nicole was on dusting and Hoovering and not saying, “I don’t understand the vacuum cleaner.” (She did open her mouth when I said, “Can you do the stairs with the nozzle attachment?” Then she closed it again and