wouldn’t have bought the napkins though. It’s the feel-good factor. She’ll be back. She’ll always come here for gifts. And sometimes I’ll give her a discount and other times I won’t. And that means she’ll come back even more often.’
‘Whatever you say,’ Tim said. He’d never really figured out Vita’s business strategies.
Vita looked at him. They were standing next to each other, both of them with hands on hips, looking at the table with the little creatures made from teasels and pine cones, as if observing naughty children.
‘Are these popular?’
‘No, not really,’ Vita said. ‘The kids all want them, but the mums worry they’ll make a mess or have creepy crawlies hibernating in them.’
Creepy crawlies. A Vita-ism. Tim smiled.
‘How’s things?’ he asked. She looked good today. He’d stopped noticing. A long time ago.
She shrugged. ‘June’s not been a good month – but not a bad month either, all things considering. A little down on last year.’
‘And outside of the shop? Work and play?’
She shrugged again. ‘Not a good month, not a bad month. A little down on last year. All things considered.’ The allusion was lost on him. ‘And you?’
He shrugged too.
Tell me about Suzie, Tim. Own up. No, don’t.
An awkward silence during which, standing there, side by side, elbows almost touching, she could sense his body heat. They were close but too close for comfort. Vita stepped away. ‘So!’
‘So,’ said Tim, ‘about the trade fair.’
‘Yes,’ said Vita, ‘what do you think?’
‘I’m meant to be in Edinburgh,’ Tim said. ‘I can’t cancel it – they’re a new client for the consultancy.’
‘But what about the shop?’
‘Could Jodie come in? The show’s only at Alexandra Palace. You don’t need to stay over. One day would probably be enough anyway.’
‘I thought you said Jodie’s beyond useless?’
‘As a Saturday girl, yes,’ said Tim, ‘but midweek – she’ll probably be flattered, she may even rise to the challenge. She’s an impoverished student – she’ll probably relish the chance to skip some boring lecture.’
‘I’ll ask her. But what if she can’t?’
‘God, Vita, why don’t you just ask her first – and depending on her answer, then worry about a plan B?’
And Vita thought to herself, Remember that? The way he turns? The way you think you’re pals and suddenly you wonder if he really dislikes you?
‘I’ll do that,’ she said and she wanted him to leave.
‘Let me know,’ he said, on his way out. And then he paused. ‘Nice dress. By the way.’
It gave her a lift. And she was angry with herself for letting it.
Before she rang Jodie, Vita did the sensible thing and allowed herself a few minutes to think about Tim. To really think about him. Wondered why he didn’t use his relationship with Suzie against her when that really would be a very Tim thing to do. Shove it in her face, brandish it about. What meaning could Vita find in this? Was it that he didn’t want to hurt her? If so, did that then imply he had feelings for her still? Or did it mean Suzie meant nothing and wasn’t worth mentioning because in the course of his life she simply wasn’t important? If so, then she really wasn’t the new Vita, she was an opportune distraction. A bed warmer. A drinking buddy. An ego boost. Cheaper than a Porsche but with the same penis-extension factor.
I hope it’s that she simply doesn’t figure large enough in his life to be worth mentioning, Vita thought.
And then she thought, if that was the case, it was therefore rather pathetic that Suzie loomed larger for her than for Tim, that Suzie was in some ways a more real presence in her life than in his. What she thought it boiled down to was that she just really didn’t want the woman he left her for to be the true, profound love of his life.
I auditioned for that role, I put so much effort into it, I loved it. I’m not ready to let it go to someone else.
But you keep forgetting he didn’t leave you, Vita – you left him.
And then she thought, is this a skewed version of Aesop’s dog in the manger? I don’t want Tim – but I don’t want him wanting anyone else?
And then she thought, For God’s sake, shut up! This is doing me no good at all. All this thinking and wondering that I do isn’t going to change him or the past. What a waste of quarter of an hour – sitting, staring into the middle distance, sifting through all that emotional junk. She knew there was nothing of value in it – she’d been through it with a fine toothcomb over and again.
Go to London! Go to the trade show! Do something different.
Vita phoned Jodie.
Tim was at the bar when his phone rang. Suzie heard it, reached into his jacket pocket for it, saw it was Vita and answered it before she really thought about the ramifications.
‘Hullo? Tim’s phone.’ Purr, she told herself, purr. ‘Who is this?’ Just let her think that Tim no longer puts a name to her number!
Vita felt the adrenalin rise in her throat and dry it out immediately. ‘It’s Vita.’
‘Well, this is Suzie.’
There was silence while Vita scurried through thoughts about what to do in this situation; the pressure of having just a few seconds to frantically sort through a mental filing cabinet for a missing page of instructions of what to do in an emergency.
‘Why do you phone?’ Suzie was suddenly asking. She was outside now. Tim would just think she’d gone out for a smoke. Say he came out? And if he didn’t, how would she return the phone to him without him knowing? It was dangerous, mad, exciting – to be on his phone to his annoying ex. But this opportunity was too good. She’d figure it out later. Seen my phone? No. Wonder where it is? I don’t know. Weird. Oh look, Tim, your phone’s in my bag – you must have put it in there on our way here. Later, later – all that could wait. In the here and now she had Vita, cornered.
‘Why do you phone in the evenings?’
‘Sorry?’
‘You heard. Could you not phone us in the evenings. Tim’s got a life, you know, outside of work. It gets on our nerves.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Oh, come on, Vita – I’m Suzie. The Suzie. We’re together – so back off.’
Vita was shaking, not just because Suzie had hung up on her, but because the level of aggression had been horrible. People were usually nice to
