“It’s OK,” says Suze, hugging me back. “I was worried for a bit — but then I knew you must be all right when I saw you on the telly. You were fantastic, by the way.”
“Really?” I say, a tiny smile flickering round the corners of my mouth. “Did you really think so?”
“Oh yes!” says Suze. “Much better than whatshisface. Luke Brandon. God, he’s arrogant.”
“Yes,” I say after a tiny pause. “Yes, I suppose he is. But he was actually quite nice to me afterward.”
“Really?” says Suze indifferently. “Well, you were brilliant, anyway. Do you want some coffee?”
“Love some,” I say, and she disappears into the kitchen.
I pick up my letters and bills and begin slowly to leaf through them. Once upon a time, this lot would have sent me into a blind panic. In fact, they would have gone straight into the bin, unread. But you know what? Today I don’t feel a flicker of fear. Honestly, how could I have been so silly about my financial affairs? How could I have been so cowardly? This time I’m just going to face up to them properly. I’m going to sit down with my checkbook and my latest bank statements, and sort methodically through the whole mess.
Staring at the clutch of envelopes in my hand, I feel suddenly very grown-up and responsible. Farsighted and sensible. I’m going to sort my life out and keep my finances in order from now on. I’ve completely and utterly changed my attitude toward money.
Plus. .
OK, I wasn’t actually going to tell you this. But Morning Coffee is paying me absolute loads. Loads. You won’t believe it, but for every single phone-in I do, I’m going to get—
Oh, I’m all embarrassed now. Let’s just say it’s. . it’s quite a lot!
I just can’t stop smiling about it. I’ve been floating along ever since they told me. So the point is, I’ll easily be able to pay all these bills off now. My VISA bill, and my Octagon bill, and the money I owe Suze — and everything! Finally, finally my life is going to be sorted.
“So, why did you just disappear like that?” asks Suze, coming back out of the kitchen and making me jump. “What was wrong?”
“I don’t really know,” I say with a sigh, putting the letters back down on the hall table. “I just had to get away and think. I was all confused.”
“Because of Tarquin?” says Suze at once, and I feel myself stiffen apprehensively.
“Partly,” I say after a pause, and swallow. “Why? Has he—”
“I know you’re not that keen on Tarkie,” says Suze wistfully, “but I think he still really likes you. He came round a couple of nights ago and left you this letter.”
She gestures to a cream envelope stuck in the mirror. With slightly trembling hands I take it. Oh God, what’s he going to say? I hesitate, then rip it open, and a ticket falls onto the floor.
“The opera!” says Suze, picking it up. “Day after tomorrow.” She looks up. “God, it’s lucky you came back, Bex.” My dear Rebecca, I’m reading incredulously. Forgive my reticence in contacting you before. But the more I think about it, the more I realize how much I enjoyed our evening together and how much I would like to repeat it.I enclose a ticket for Die Meistersinger at the Opera House. I shall be attending in any case and if you were able to join me, I would be delighted.Yours very sincerely,Tarquin Cleath-Stuart.
“Oh, Bex, you must go!” says Suze, reading over my shoulder. “You’ve got to go. He’ll be devastated if you don’t. I really think he likes you.”
I look at the ticket, for two nights’ time. “Gala Performance,” it says, and I feel a sudden excitement. I’ve never been to an opera gala! I could wear that divine Ghost dress which I’ve never had a chance to wear, and I could put my hair up, and meet lots of amazing people. .
And then, abruptly, I stop. However much fun it would be — it wouldn’t be fair or honest to go. I’ve hurt Tarquin enough.
“I can’t go, Suze,” I say, thrusting the letter down. “I’ve. . I’ve got plans that night.”
“But what about poor Tarkie?” says Suze, crestfallen. “He’s so keen on you. .”
“I know,” I say, and take a deep breath. “But I’m not keen on him. I’m really sorry, Suze. . but that’s the truth. If I could change the way I felt. .”
There’s a short silence.
“Oh well,” says Suze at last. “Never mind. You can’t help it.” She disappears into the kitchen and emerges a minute later with two mugs of coffee. “So,” she says, handing me one, “what are you up to tonight? Shall we go out together?”
“Sorry, I can’t,” I say, and clear my throat. “I’ve got a business meeting.”
“Really?” Suze pulls a face. “What a bummer!” She sips at her coffee and leans against the door frame. “Who on earth has business meetings in the evening, anyway?”
“It’s. . it’s with Luke Brandon,” I say, trying to sound unconcerned. But it’s no good, I can feel myself starting to blush.
“Luke Brandon?” says Suze puzzledly. “But what—” She stares at me, and her expression slowly changes. “Oh no. Bex! Don’t tell me. .”
“It’s just a business meeting,” I say, avoiding her eye. “That’s all. Two businesspeople meeting up and talking about business. In a. . in a business situation. That’s all.”