“It’s not a bargain if you don’t need one!” She grabs the trolley and tries to haul it back.
“Get your hands off my trolley!” I say indignantly. “I need a waffle-maker! And I can easily afford it! Easily! I’ll take one,” I add to the woman, and take a box off the table.
“No, she won’t,” says Jess, grabbing it out of my arms.
What? What?
“I’m only doing it for your own good, Becky! You’re addicted to spending! You have to learn how to say no!”
“I can say no!” I practically spit in fury. “I can say no whenever I like! I’m just not choosing to say it right now! I will take one,” I say to the nervous-looking woman. “In fact, I’ll take two. I can give one to Mum for Christmas.”
I snatch two more boxes and defiantly put them in my trolley.
“So you’re just going to waste fifty pounds, are you?” says Jess contemptuously. “Just throw away money you don’t have.”
“I’m not throwing it away.”
“Yes, you are!”
“I’m bloody not!” I retort. “And I do have the money. I have plenty of money.”
“You’re living in a total fantasyland!” Jess suddenly shouts. “You have money until you run out of stuff to sell. But what happens then? And what happens when Luke finds out what you’ve been doing? You’re just storing up trouble!”
“I’m not storing up trouble!” I lash back angrily.
“Yes, you are!”
“No, I’m no—”
“Will you two sisters just stop fighting for once!” interrupts an exasperated woman’s voice, and we both jump.
I look around in bewilderment. Mum isn’t here, is she?
Then suddenly I spot the woman who spoke. She isn’t even looking at us. She’s addressing a pair of toddlers in a trolley seat.
Oh.
I push the hair back off my hot face, suddenly feeling a bit shamefaced. I glance over at Jess — and she’s looking rather shamefaced too.
“Let’s go and pay,” I say in dignified tones, and push the trolley on.
We drive home without exchanging a word, but underneath my calm exterior I’m seething. Who does she think she is, lecturing me? Who does she think she is, telling me I have a problem?
We get home and unload the shopping with minimal communication. We barely even look each other in the eye.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” I say with exaggerated formality as I put the last packet away.
“No, thanks,” she replies with equal formality.
“I’ll just busy myself in the kitchen, if you can amuse yourself for a while.”
“Fine.”
She disappears into her room and the next moment comes out again holding a book called Petrography of British Igneous Rocks.
Boy, she really knows how to have fun.
As she sits down on a bar stool I flick on the kettle and get down a couple of mugs. A few moments later Luke wanders in, looking harassed.
“Hi, darling!” I say, injecting even more warmth into my voice than usual. “I got us a lovely waffle-maker! We can have waffles every morning!”
“Excellent!” he says distractedly, and I shoot a glance of vindication at Jess.
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Er… yes. Thanks.” He rubs his brow and peers behind the kitchen door. Then he looks on top of the fridge.
“Are you OK?” I say. “Is anything wrong?”
“I’ve lost something.” He frowns. “It’s ridiculous. Things can’t just vanish.”
“What is it?” I say sympathetically. “I’ll help you look.”
“Don’t worry.” Luke shakes his head. “It’s just a work thing. It’ll turn up. It can’t have disappeared out of the apartment.”
“But I want to help!” I run an affectionate hand along his shoulders. “I’ve already told you that, darling. Tell me what you’re looking for, and we’ll search as a team. Is it a file… or a book… some papers…”
“That’s kind of you.” He kisses me. “Actually, it’s nothing like that. It’s a box of clocks. From Tiffany. Ten of them.”
My breath catches in my throat.
Across the room I’m aware of Jess lifting her head out of her book.
“Did you say… Tiffany clocks?” I manage.
“Uh-huh.” He nods. “You know we’re hosting a big dinner with the Arcodas Group tomorrow night? It’s all part of the pitch. We’re basically trying to butter them up. So I bought a load of clocks as corporate gifts — and I don’t know what the fuck has happened to them. One minute they were here… the next, they’d vanished!”
