She reached into a spotless grey leather tote and took out a metal box, two keys, a receipt book, four pens and a calculator.
A queue of Year 12 and 13 mothers had already started to form, chatting as they waited to pay.
Sam handed over the black and glitter-pink receipts for the ball in return for wads of fifty- and twenty-pound notes, while I ticked off the names on our lists.
Julia sat with Anna in the corridor, looking at us periodically, as if checking that we were performing such a complex operation adequately.
When the last ticket had been sold, Sam started counting the money.
‘We need to put it in the safe in Mrs West’s office.’
I went to the loo, passing Julia and Anna, who smiled at me. When I was coming out, I heard Julia say my name and stopped just inside the door. I stayed absolutely still, straining to hear what she was saying.
‘Faiza won’t be able to pay the fees working at Butterfly. It was embarrassing the way she pretended it was for a business.’
I pinched my lips together, holding my breath.
‘She’s very nice, but let’s face it, she’s not really suitable, you know, for a CEO’s wife. Her husband would never have been promoted to the top, not with her background,’ said Anna.
I clenched my hands, trying to steady my breathing. I pushed the inner door of the bathroom so that it banged, to let them know that I was coming out. They smiled at me, the way they always did, and I walked away quickly to sit back down with Sam.
I pretended to check emails on my phone, as Julia and Anna walked past, calling out to say, ‘Bye.’
I was so angry that for several minutes, I couldn’t speak.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Sam, looking at my face.
I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to tell Sam what they’d said. Not yet. My mind was still reeling. Besides, I wanted to ask her advice about Ahmed.
‘Ahmed’s taken the news about Tom’s job really badly. I can see all the same patterns starting up again.’
She put her arm around me.
‘Listen, last time this happened, he wasn’t having therapy, was he? You told me his doctor’s very good. I’m sure she’ll talk to him about it. Maybe he just needs time to get used to it.’
That made sense. Perhaps I was panicking.
‘Thanks, Sam. When I saw him last night, everything came rushing back. I felt so helpless. It’s such a strange illness.’
She sighed.
‘I wish there was a pill, an antibiotic, or a steroid for the mind too,’ said Sam.
‘Exactly that.’
She shook her head.
‘It must be so awful for you, too,’ I said.
She nodded. I knew she was thinking about her Mum.
‘Is James looking forward to the auction?’ I asked.
‘Not really. We’re not getting a full table this year, either,’ said Sam.
‘Wow. James is OK with that?’
‘It was his idea, actually. He may need to travel around those dates.’
‘Is he still very busy at work?’
‘It’s awful. They’ve cut down his team, which means he’s doing the work of three people now. He’s too old for all this, Faiza. It’s not good for his health.’
As she left, she hugged me. ‘Ahmed’s going to be fine, don’t worry.’
In my car, I tried to stop myself from crying. It wasn’t just Ahmed. I knew what Julia was like, but I’d thought Anna was my friend. The way she’d said ‘background’. I knew what she meant.
Seventeen
20 days to May 30th
It was my first morning at Butterfly and I’d just received an email from Ahmed’s therapist. Dr Keane had seen an escalation in his anxiety symptoms and advised more frequent sessions. I felt as if the world was suddenly spinning a little faster, as if any minute it might spin completely out of control. Ahmed couldn’t fall sick again. I’d get him as many sessions as he needed.
Alice, Biffy’s assistant, was watching me with proxy disapproval in Biffy’s absence.
‘Biffy doesn’t like us using mobiles in the shop,’ she said. I went to the bathroom to reply to Dr Keane. I had to control my anxiety around Ahmed. He was probably picking up on my stress.
‘Welcome!’ said Biffy, when she got back. ‘Alice is going to explain the till, then I’ll show you the stockroom.’
I spent the morning in the basement, opening stacks of cardboard boxes from Milan. Biffy had given me a little knife to open the tape, an inventory list to check each tag against, and a crash course in using the steam iron. There were sixty-five items to unpack and put out on the shop floor.
‘We’re just popping out to get coffees,’ said Biffy, as she and Alice took their purses. ‘Just stay by the till and we’ll be back before you know it.’
I stood by the large display window, feeling like a mannequin. On my mobile, I calculated how much I’d earn in two weeks, factoring in a conservative estimate for any commission. It was more than I had expected. It wouldn’t cover all our bills, but Tom’s project client was going to give him three thousand pounds as a sign-on bonus. We would have enough for the direct debits due on the thirtieth and to pay for extra therapy sessions – but only if I made commission too.
I saw a movement outside and put away my mobile in case Biffy was back, but it was a group of women looking at the clothes in the window. I glimpsed long blonde hair and a red Burberry jacket that looked familiar, then saw the woman’s face in profile just as she pushed open the door. It was Hannah, Augustus’s mother from Ahmed’s school. Hannah and I were school-gate friends. I only met her a few months ago when Ahmed started at Clissington’s. She had immediately invited Ahmed to Augustus’s sleepover when she heard that I’d been at Brookwood High – that gave me an ‘access all areas’ pass for Ahmed. The friendship with Augustus had also meant that Ahmed was suddenly invited to many more sleepovers and birthday parties by Augustus’s group. I knew how Hannah would react to seeing me working in a shop.
I dropped to the floor, hiding behind the counter. I crouched, listening to Hannah and her friends chatting.
‘Hi, anyone here?’ called Hannah.
I didn’t know what to do. Before I could make a decision, it was made for me. Biffy and Alice walked in and said hello to Hannah and the other mothers from Ahmed’s class. I stood up before they discovered me and it became obvious that I was hiding.
‘Hi! Sorry, I was just picking up my earring!’
Hannah smiled as I went around to double-kiss her. She seemed to think that I was on that side of the till simply to retrieve my earring. Then Biffy spoke.
‘So, you know Faiza, my new sales assistant?’
Hannah’s mouth dropped open and stayed that way. Biffy looked on uncomfortably as Hannah had processed the information.
‘You’re working here?’
‘Yes! I’m thinking of starting an online fashion business and I thought this would be the best way to learn about the industry.’
Hannah smiled, visibly relieved, as if her world had corrected itself on its axis, and sat down to try some ankle boots.
‘Do you mind being our guinea pig for the shoe sales protocol? I want to show Faiza,’ said Biffy, coming up to us.
I stood with one of the shoes in my hand, trying to look as if Biffy was going to impart some vital insight.
‘So, the focus is on the whole experience.’ Biffy took the other boot out of the box. ‘I love the rustle of the tissue, don’t you?’
Hannah and I looked at each other and smiled.
‘First, you offer the customer a sock, if they want one.’ Biffy pointed to a stack to the side. ‘Then kneel down and put the shoe on the customer yourself. We provide a luxury service.’
Neither Hannah nor I could look at each other. Biffy was waiting and I dropped inelegantly onto the floor and knelt down at Hannah’s bare feet, with their French-manicured toenails.
‘Oh, there’s no need,’ said Hannah, about to take
the boot from my hand. Biffy stopped her.
‘Do you mind if Faiza practises on you?’
I undid the zip on the boot and held the opening wide for Hannah as she slipped her foot in. I zipped it up and Biffy left.
I was biting the inside of my cheek, trying to hold myself together. Hannah’s face was red. She hobbled over to the mirror in one boot, then took it off herself and walked back in bare feet. She pulled on her wedges.
‘I didn’t realise the time! I’ll have to do this later. Bye, ladies!’
She left, almost running out of the shop.
I busied myself putting the boots back in the tissue. I imagined Julia coming in and waiting for me to put socks and shoes on her feet. It seemed like a bad dream.
I went to the bathroom and inside the cubicle I dabbed away my tears with some loo paper before they could ruin my make-up. I reminded myself that I was doing this for my family, for Ahmed, for Tom. I was doing this to save myself. I couldn’t linger; Biffy had said a bathroom break should never be more than five minutes, max.
But the day got better: I helped two women to get outfits for a summer ball, along with matching shoes and bags, which meant two hundred pounds of commission.
Eighteen
18 days to May 30th
A couple of days after I started at Butterfly, I woke up to see Tom already sitting up in bed, staring at his phone. Someone had dug up an article about the Argentinean client being declared bankrupt. The consultancy project would have to be shelved.
He lay back down, facing away from me. He never usually let setbacks at work affect him. He always said, ‘You win some, you lose some.’
‘Are you feeling OK, baby?’ I said and bent down to stroke his hair.
He pulled away. This was bound to be a blow. He’d worked hard on the project, and was relying on the fee to boost the emergency fund.
‘Listen, you have a lie in. I’ll drop the boys today. I have time before Butterfly.’
All day at work, I kept worrying about him. I took extra bathroom breaks so I could text him and see how he was. He just answered Fine.
That evening, when I got home, he was still wearing the T-shirt he’d slept in and sweatpants, not jeans and a shirt as he normally did. He hadn’t shaved or showered and his hair wasn’t brushed. His eyes seemed to still be in a state of shock and he went up to bed as soon as we’d eaten. When I went upstairs, he was sitting up in bed, with all the lights off, his face glowing in the light from his iPad screen. He didn’t look up. I heard a ‘swishing’ sound and then a ‘tap, tap’ again and again. When I looked at the screen, I saw he was playing Solitaire.
I lay down next to him but decided not to say anything. He needed some time to get over the disappointment of the lost project. He would be himself again soon.
But he was the same the next day and the day after. He stopped going for his morning run, and if he wasn’t playing Solitaire in bed, he was shut away in the study while I ate with the children. No amount of cajoling or reassurance from me seemed to lift his mood. I kissed his forehead in bed and wrapped myself around him, wishing there was something I could do to make him feel better.
There was one thing guaranteed to make Tom happy: sex. I realised it had been weeks since any such interaction, so a couple of days later, I locked the door and put on some music so the children wouldn’t hear us. He continued to swipe cards on his phone with his fingertip. I stripped down to my underwear and went to stand next to him by the bed. He protested as I took the phone away, but ignoring his outrage, I climbed on to the bed and straddled him. I bent down to hold him close. His body relaxed and his arms went around my bare back.
‘Off with them, then.’ I pointed to his PJs and began to slide down the waistband. At the same time, I pushed up his T-shirt.
‘Not now, OK?’
He shifted so suddenly that I lost my balance and tumbled onto the bed, as if I’d been thrown off a rodeo horse. He pulled his T-shirt back down over his stomach and picked up the phone to resume his game. I wasn’t giving up that easily.
‘Come on! It’s like going to the gym. You just have to force yourself and then you feel so much better.’
I grinned and touched his leg. I reminded myself that he wasn’t rejecting me, he was just going through a tough time.
‘Not now, OK?’
‘No probs. We can work out tomorrow.’
Tom carried on playing Solitaire for another hour.
In his face, I could see my fear reflected. Without the project, we wouldn’t have enough to pay the bills. My salary wouldn’t cover everything, unless I could make a lot of commission. I’d have to make sure I made as many sales as I could. I was grateful for the job at Butterfly. The humiliation was worth it for the peace of mind.
Nineteen
16 days to May 30th
Towards the end of the week, Lizzie and Julia came to the shop, along with Anna and some others. They all asked me to style their outfits, except for Julia, who said, ‘Biffy knows what I like.’ Julia and Biffy sat gossiping, rather than looking at clothes, and I saw them glance at me several times.
After what Anna had said about my ‘background’, I made sure that I showed her the most expensive pieces in the store. Lizzie bought three outfits and several bikinis for her holiday but they were all on a major shopping spree; by the end of the week my commission was double my pay.
‘Do you have time for a drink?’ said Biffy as we locked up the shop at the end of my first week.
The boys would be home in half an hour after their Friday playdates and I was planning to check in on Ami and Baba before going home. Baba hadn’t been feeling well and I wanted to check his blood pressure. Sofia was having friends for a sleepover and I wanted to help her organise sleeping bags and dinner. However, Biffy was now my boss and I was about to get paid, so I said, ‘Yes.’ Besides, it was nice of her to take me out.
It was a warm summer evening and we sat outside the bar in the Village, at a round metal table on the pavement, sandwiched between after-work drinks and pre-date meet-ups. I sipped my Coke Zero slowly. We talked about my children and hers, who were both in their twenties and at university, and then we conducted forensic discussions about the best treatments for sagging jowls.
Biffy set her wine glass down and I checked my watch under the table. I could still squeeze in a quick hello with my parents if I left soon. She smiled and leaned closer.
‘It’s been so great having you in the shop, Faiza.’
‘Thank you! I’ve loved it. I think we make a great team.’
She winced, as if in pain.
‘The thing is, I don’t think it’s going to work out. I’m sorry.’
The chatter in the bar fell away. I gripped my glass, which was slippery with condensation.
‘I thought I’d done very well. I’ve sold over five thousand pounds’ worth of clothes, I’ve learnt the till, I did everything you asked me to. I even vacuumed the shop and cleaned the windows when the cleaner was ill. I-I don’t understand.’
She looked at me with eyes that showed no emotion. The creases around her lips deepened as she started to speak.
‘One of the customers, someone who knows you, actually, mentioned that the school mums are finding it awkward having you serving them. She says people have asked Alice when you’ll be at lunch so they could pop in then. She’s one of our biggest spenders. Times are tough at the moment. I can’t afford to lose any sales.’
She shook her caramel highlights and shrugged.
‘You don’t need this job to learn the trade. When they see someone like you, one of them, working in the shop, it reminds them they’re human too. It’s bad for business.’
I rubbed the back of my neck. I’d pulled a muscle on my first day and had been living on paracetamol all week. I nodded. I remembered Hannah’s face when she fled from the shop and the way Julia had kept looking at me during her tête-à-tête with Biffy. I knew instinctively that it was Julia, not Hannah, who had got me fired. Why di
d that woman hate me so much?
‘Here’s your pay for the week.’
She handed me a brown envelope.
‘It’s cash, £400.’
‘What about my commission, another £800?’
‘No, darling, there’s no commission in a trial week.’
A minute later I was walking towards the Common. I started to cry, and afraid that someone would see, I rang Tom and asked him to pick me up.
He put his arm around me and led me to the car. Seeing me like that seemed to jolt Tom back into himself. He smiled his usual reassuring smile.
‘At least you won’t have to hide in the loos every time you need to send a text,’ he said.
I snorted through my tears and laughed, before starting to cry again. His kindness made me feel worse. I shouldn’t have lost that job.
He left me in the living room with a hot-water bottle for my back, a cup of tea and a lemon cupcake from Sofia’s stash. None of it brought any comfort. Waves of fear washed over me. My worries worked their way up into my chest until it felt as if someone was clutching my throat. Biffy’s job had been my last chance to fix things.
I heard Alex singing Thomas songs with Tom in the kitchen and could feel the music thumping from Sofia’s room upstairs. The sound of Ahmed shouting with his friends, as they played some online game, was the best sound of all – but what would happen to our family now? Dr Keane was already concerned about Ahmed relapsing. What if all this made him spiral into a place from where I couldn’t get him back?
Sofia came to get me for dinner. She shuffled from one foot to the other in her school socks.
‘I’ve got a Saturday job at Zara.’
I jumped up and pulled her into a hug. She patted my back.
‘OK, Mum, it’s not such a big deal.’
‘It is! I’m so proud of you.’
Later in bed, Tom and I lay facing each other. The moon seeped in through the shutters, falling on his face. The tree outside the window swayed in the wind, periodically blocking the moonlight and plunging us into darkness. Our arms reached out towards each other, and we held hands in the middle of the bed, our fingers intertwined.
Would I Lie to You? Page 9