by Sharon Owens
‘It is not sweet and lovely at all; you’re being utterly patronizing. Look, it’s a proper, grown-up relationship,’ Emily snapped. ‘Deal with it.’
Arabella looked Emily straight in the eyes then. She seemed so angry, Emily was almost frightened of her.
‘Are you okay, Emily? There’s no need to be so defensive.’
‘I am not being defensive,’ Emily said. ‘You are being rude.’
‘Are you serious? I have no idea what you’re talking about – really, I haven’t. Are you annoyed with me just because I made that throwaway little quip about Burger King? Come on, Emily, where’s your sense of humour?’
‘Okay, then. So we’re joking around today, are we? So is it all right to have a good laugh at the crazy woman who burned down her ex-husband’s house in a fit of jealousy, and then lost her own house as a result? Let’s all have a good old giggle at Mrs Arabella Harrington, the arsonist, shall we? Don’t leave your matches lying around, everybody – Arabella might be tempted to do it again.’
‘That’s a bitchy thing to say.’
‘Takes one to know one,’ Emily replied.
‘Is that the best you can do? That’s a very lame reply.’
‘It’s how I feel,’ Emily said through gritted teeth.
‘Well, I can’t help feeling a bit jaded where romance is concerned,’ Arabella told her bitterly. ‘So don’t expect me to put out the bunting for you.’
‘You know I deserve this chance to be happy, Arabella. I did my time in a lousy relationship – ten years of it. I’ve been stood up at the altar, and I’ll be in hock to the bank for years to come because of it. And yes, I know I have nobody but myself to blame for being such a fool over Alex. But that’s all behind me now. I’ve seen the light. And I thought you’d seen the light with David too? You said it was over a long time before he met Mary, didn’t you? I thought you’d be pleased for me. I was going to ask you to be one of my witnesses at the ceremony. Why are you being so mean about Dylan and me getting engaged?’
‘I’m just being realistic. It’s too much, much too soon. I think you’re rushing into this marriage because you’re still mortified at having been stood up before.’
‘Arabella, you could just have said congratulations and left it at that … What’s it to you, if I get married on a tight budget? Or even, if it works out for us in the long term? Honestly, after all the support I gave you when David left you, this is just ridiculous.’
‘You didn’t give me any support when that man bailed out on me without so much as a note on the kitchen table,’ Arabella cried.
‘I did, Arabella – I listened to you complaining for weeks and weeks. I advised you to seek legal advice, and I told you not to do anything stupid. Didn’t I? Well, didn’t I?’
‘All I know is, I wouldn’t have burned down his stupid house if you’d stayed with me that evening instead of running away to have a silly chat with that reader.’
‘You know I had to keep that appointment; people spend days staging their homes for our visits. And besides that, I’m not your mother, Arabella,’ Emily seethed. ‘If I’d stayed with you that night, what’s to say you wouldn’t have started the fire the following night, or the night after that? I couldn’t be with you every hour of the day and night. That is a totally ludicrous thing to say.’
‘Nevertheless, it’s how I feel,’ Arabella shouted.
‘I thought you were okay with selling the house? You said it was fun living in a smaller place.’
‘Oh, grow up, Emily. I was only saying that, because I know you live in an attic flat. Did you really think I could be happy living with one bathroom and no walk-in wardrobe? I can’t stand living in a house that feels smaller than my old bedroom used to be. How could anyone be happy living in a shoebox?’
‘So it’s my fault you lost your home?’ Emily demanded.
‘I’m not saying that at all.’
‘You so are.’
‘I’m not.’
‘You’re as good as blaming me outright! Look, if I had the money, I’d give it to you.’
‘Whatever,’ Arabella said. ‘I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually.’
By this stage everyone in the office was straining to hear every word. Pens were frozen in mid-air, hands were hovering above keyboards and coffee cups were suspended only inches away from open mouths. Emily Reilly had been stood up at the altar! Arabella was now living in a humble one-bed house! This was world-class gossip. This was far better than a mere house fire.
‘So what are you saying to me, Arabella? Do you want me to resign from the magazine? Am I nothing to you but a reminder of the house you lost? Because if this is going to be thrown in my face every time you get PMS, I’ll clear my desk and leave right now. I am not going to go on working here, if you are going to make me feel like a failure. I’m not going to be the focus for all your disappointment from now on.’
‘Don’t be so juvenile, Emily. I think you should see a shrink, do you know that?’
‘Why?’
‘Because every single thing you do has to be related straight back to your idiot parents – Mr and Mrs Reilly and their long-term train-wreck of a marriage. You’re not the only person in the world with dysfunctional parents, you know? In fact I don’t know anybody whose parents are remotely sane! You really ought to get over yourself, Emily. You’re a five-star drama queen, and I’m getting very tired of it.’
A collective gasp went up from the office. Somebody spilt their mug of tea all over the photocopier. It made an angry stuttering noise, and then fell eerily silent.
‘Now look what you’ve done,’ Arabella said flatly. ‘You’ve upset the entire office, and we’ve only got a few hours to wrap up the next issue.’
‘Right, that’s it,’ Emily said in a thin, high voice. ‘I’m taking the rest of the day off, and possibly the rest of the week too. I’ll be in touch.’
‘You can’t go home now, Emily; I need you to finish writing up the Jeremy Cavendish feature today. That’s our lead piece.’
‘Do it yourself,’ Emily said rebelliously. ‘I’m not in the mood.’
‘If you leave this office today, you’re fired,’ Arabella said, panic-stricken.
She hadn’t banked on Emily taking her barbed comments so hard. But there was no way she was going to say sorry in front of the staff.
‘You can’t fire me,’ Emily said quietly. ‘I resign. And you can stick your two weeks’ notice where the sun doesn’t shine.’
Emily put on her coat again, and walked out of the office with her head held high. Adrenaline surged through her veins, making her thoughts dance wildly and her knees wobble alarmingly.
How dare Arabella speak to her like that in front of everybody!
How dare Arabella be so vile about her engagement!
How dare Arabella make her feel like a silly little girl playing brides and grooms!
Even her own parents had been delighted when she’d shown them the ring on Christmas Day. And they’d opened all their modest little gifts with genuine delight and happiness.
‘Bitch, bitch, bitch,’ Emily said venomously, jabbing the lift buttons hard with her index finger. ‘Arabella Harrington is a vicious old harpy from hell.’
Emily drove home in a trance. She walked up the stairs, let herself in and sat at the breakfast bar with her coat still on. After half an hour had passed, she made some chamomile tea and sipped it very slowly. Her stomach felt as if it had been torn right out, kicked up and down the street by Vinnie Jones, and then put back the wrong way round.
At lunchtime Dylan phoned to say he’d been offered a job with a large accounting firm. With their combined salaries they’d be able to put in an offer on Enid’s house immediately. Even though they wouldn’t actually be using any of Emily’s salary, of course – that all had to be set aside to pay for Mr Reilly’s poker debts. And a Vera Wang frock and the gourmet food at Belfast Castle.
‘Darling, it’s all happening,’ Dylan said excitedly. �
��What did they say at work when they saw your engagement ring? I bet it was mad, was it? Is Arabella going to be your bridesmaid? I bet all the girls were queuing up to be bridesmaids, were they?’
Emily cradled her mobile phone against her cheek, and closed her eyes.
25. Fashion Destination
Sylvia rang Dylan and Emily in a state of high excitement on Saturday morning.
‘Brilliant news!’ she squeaked. ‘You are not going to believe this!’
‘Tell us, then,’ Dylan laughed.
He’d been making tea in the kitchen when Sylvia rang. Emily was still hiding under the duvet, refusing to listen to Dylan’s affirmations that Arabella would be begging for her forgiveness in the very near future. He had also tried in vain to convince Emily they could still afford to buy a house some day soon. And failing that, they could just move to the suburbs and rent a bigger flat. Emily was fed up on all fronts. She had switched off her mobile – and warned Dylan that, if he let Arabella into the flat, there might well be an assault committed.
‘Okay, drum roll please … The shop is going to be featured in Vogue,’ Sylvia trilled.
‘Do you mean Vogue, as in the magazine?’ Dylan asked.
‘Yes! What else?’ Sylvia laughed. ‘Our little shop is going to be a fashion destination! Hooray!’
Emily rolled her eyes. Her life seemed overwhelmed with magazines these days.
‘I think this is something you girls might prefer to talk about,’ Dylan said, handing Emily the phone. ‘The shop’s going to be in Vogue.’
Emily shook her head and kept her hands under the blankets, but Dylan simply dropped the phone on the bed and walked away. If anyone could talk Emily out of her mood, it was Sylvia. Sylvia was famed for her infectious laugh.
‘Hello? Emily?’ Sylvia said. ‘Are you there, Emily?’
‘Yes, I’m here,’ Emily said, reaching out from beneath her duvet of doom. ‘How did this amazing thing happen?’
She forced some enthusiasm into her voice for Sylvia’s sake.
‘One of their stylists was passing the shop a few months ago, and she thought it looked really nice with the peacock-blue shelving. So she took some photos, and – to cut a long story short – she did a fashion shoot here this morning.’
‘You didn’t say anything about this before. And Dylan didn’t say anything about it either,’ Emily said, puzzled.
‘Dylan wasn’t in the shop the day the stylist was passing. And I didn’t tell you both about this morning’s shoot in case they decided not to use the pictures. The stylist did say that most of what they take never gets used, you see. Anyway, she’s just texted me to say the feature has been approved already, charity shops being very in this year, and the shoot is going to cover eleven pages. We’re going to get a big mention. Isn’t that the most amazing news you’ve ever heard in your whole life?’
‘Indeed it is,’ Emily said.
‘Well, maybe not your whole life,’ Sylvia admitted.
‘No, this is fabulous news, and you’ve worked so hard. Good for you!’
‘I’m stunned,’ Sylvia said. ‘Just stunned …’
‘What month will the magazine be out?’ Emily asked.
‘October, I think,’ Sylvia said wistfully. ‘All the waiting will kill me.’
‘Yes, October sounds about right,’ Emily agreed. ‘They do have a long lead-in period. I’m so happy for you, Sylvia. You deserve a break more than anybody.’
‘Thanks, Emily, but I couldn’t have done it without your advice on colour, and Dylan’s expertise with a hammer and nails.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ Emily smiled.
Dylan came into the room then. He handed her a mug of tea and a plate of toast. They had only the ends of the loaf left, so Emily’s slice of toast was about an inch thick.
‘We’ll call into the shop later and say hello,’ Emily said, taking a bite of the buttery doorstep. It was the first thing she had eaten in twenty-four hours.
‘Okay,’ Sylvia said happily. ‘I’m interviewing new sales assistants later on today, by the way. Now that Dylan’s joining the white-collar brigade again, I’ll need a bona fide assistant here to cover for me when I go to look after the horses. But hopefully, with the shop taking off the way it is, I’ll be able to afford to pay someone to work full-time.’
‘I’m looking for work at the moment,’ Emily half joked.
‘What are you talking about?’ Sylvia asked.
‘I resigned from the magazine this week,’ Emily told her sheepishly.
‘For pity’s sake! Why?’
‘I had a row with my boss.’
‘Did you indeed! What was it about?’
‘She seems to think I only got engaged to stick it to her,’ Emily said sadly. ‘She’s divorcing at the moment.’
‘Yikes, the green-eyed monster strikes again, huh?’ Sylvia groaned. ‘Dylan has that effect on some women. They tend to look at their own partners and feel short-changed. And as his woman, you’re bound to cop a bit of the flak.’
‘Yes, I think something like that might have happened,’ Emily said. ‘Mind you, she never seemed to be jealous of me. I always thought she cared more about interiors than relationships, anyway. And she’s way more glamorous than I’ll ever be. I’m still in shock, really; we were best friends for years.’
‘What a shame.’
‘I know. And to think I only met Dylan when I came into the shop to donate a pile of Arabella’s old gifts to me. You could say she brought us together.’
‘Swings and roundabouts,’ Sylvia said. ‘Is there no hope of the pair of you making up?’
‘No way,’ Emily said firmly. ‘I’ll never trust her again, and I’ll never work for her again. In fact, I’m beginning to think everything nice she ever said to me was a lie.’
‘Oh, Emily, I’m sure it wasn’t,’ Sylvia said in a motherly voice.
‘Spilt milk,’ Emily said sagely.
‘A tenner says you’ll make up again,’ Sylvia said.
‘Okay, but now I’m putting you back on to Dylan. You mustn’t let anything spoil your big moment.’
Emily handed the phone back to Dylan. She sipped her tea as Sylvia told Dylan all the lovely things the Vogue stylist had said about the shop. Then Emily suddenly remembered she hadn’t told her own parents yet that she’d left her job. She wondered why that was, and assumed it was because she didn’t expect they’d give her any sympathy. They’d only tell her to go out and get another job – as if ten years of friendship, and thousands of hours of unpaid overtime, counted for nothing. But then she reminded herself to think of them as children, and it did actually help her to think of them more fondly. Emily also thought longingly of her days pottering in Sylvia’s shop, ironing the new donations and playing about with the window displays. It had reminded her of playing in the Wendy house at primary school. Even then, Emily had enjoyed putting the pots and pans in a neat row on the kitchen shelf. She reached out her hand for the phone.
‘Sylvia, I wonder … Would you consider taking me on for a while?’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes. I quite liked working in the shop, actually – the few times I did it,’ Emily said. ‘There’s a lovely atmosphere in there since it was all fixed up. It’s like a little treasure trove, full of dark corners and secret alcoves. I did enjoy setting out the new things and chatting to the customers. It was nice chatting to ordinary people, instead of the ones who were half mad with keeping their homes in perfect order all the time.’
‘Tell you what,’ Sylvia said kindly, ‘you’re far too talented to work in a charity shop. And I’m only offering to pay minimum wage. But if it gets you out of the house, you can work here for a month or so. And if any of my applicants are suitable today, I’ll tell them they can start here in a month’s time, okay? Just so you don’t end up staying here for a year, right?’
‘Thanks, Sylvia,’ Emily said in a small voice. ‘I’ll be there first thing on Monday morning.’
&n
bsp; ‘Okay, bye. Say bye to Dylan for me.’
She hung up.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve taken over my old job?’ Dylan said, shaking his head at her.
‘Only for a month,’ Emily assured him. ‘Just for a month, until I decide what I’m going to do next …’
‘That’s what I said,’ he murmured, sitting on the bed and kissing Emily’s neck as she devoured the tea and toast. ‘And I was there for more than a year.’
‘Oh wow, you’re right,’ Emily laughed. ‘Well, I can promise you now that I will only stay for one month. Not a minute longer. I need a rest and a bit of down time, and I don’t want to go rushing into the first job that comes along. And besides, the shop is a worthwhile cause – and we’ve all those hungry horses and ponies to think of.’
‘I said all that too – almost word for word. That shop has a magical hold on people with kind souls.’
‘Oh dear, I suppose you’re right. But it’s all arranged now. I don’t want to back out again.’
‘Right, missy. Get out of that bed. You need a treat, so I’m taking you to the cinema.’
‘What are we going to see?’ Emily asked him.
‘Anything – it doesn’t matter what. I fancy some popcorn, and I fancy a burger afterwards. And I fancy a night out with my beautiful fiancée. We’re getting obsessed with work. We need to remember that we have lives to live too.’
‘And you’re not mad at me for packing in my job?’ she said.
‘Of course I’m not. I know how it feels when you come to the end of one path, and you want to start again.’
‘And you don’t mind that Enid agreed to sell her house to that other couple yesterday?’ Emily said, her eyes filling up with unexpected tears.
‘Hey, come on. Don’t cry. We wouldn’t have got our paperwork done that fast in any case. The wily old bird wasn’t joking when she said she didn’t like to hang about. She had to move fast to get that room next to her friend Ida, anyway. There’ll be other houses, baby. London is full of houses. And some of them might even have stairs that don’t creak like a sinking ship.’
‘I love you, Dylan.’