they really hadn’t been popular and they did look a little forlorn and dusty.
Jodie had been fine about not coming in because no matter how strapped she was, that girl liked working even less. Vita checked the ledger. Not much business had been done yesterday – but actually, it was about average for this time of year with the schools not yet on summer holidays. A text came through to her phone. It was Tim. How did it go?
She stared at the message and then she thought, You know what, I actually don’t want to correspond with you just yet. So she didn’t. Mid-morning, he sent the same text again, following that with another half an hour later which just said, U ok? Tx. It was his fallback text – the one he’d sent her over and over again, not for the last three or four months but frequently prior to that. It always used to give her a lift, that text. He’s thinking about me. Today, though, she saw it for what it was – him checking in, needing to know he was still alpha, not liking to be ignored, wanting to assume that she might not be OK, that she might be needy, down, just where he liked her to be. It was like his Night Babe, Txx texts – those had stopped too and initially she pined for them but now she saw them as equally manipulative. How could he send those to her when his new girlfriend was no doubt waiting for him in bed? And did that mean that when Vita was still with him, he was sneaking out the same text behind her back too? Today she felt a novel nothing about this contact from Tim. A non-feeling that was a great feeling. No surge in her stomach, no intrusion into her thinking, no need to text back in the way she would have done not so very long ago.
Lunch-time was quiet so she continued with the notes she’d been making about ideas for window display, about rotating stock, even rearranging the layout of the shop altogether. She was standing in the centre of the floor, trying to envisage the tables over there, moving the trunk out of which the throws and cushions were displayed to over here, shifting the baskets to the side wall and the console over that side, when the shop phone rang.
‘That Shop – can I help you?’ she answered.
‘Hullo. I’m looking for this great new toy I’ve heard about called Dog on the Bog or something?’
Vita couldn’t believe it – her first solo trade show and she’d pinpointed the new must-have! The caller was American or Canadian or perhaps even Australian.
‘Clog!’ she said. ‘The dog is in a clog .’
‘That’s the one.’
‘My stock is due in tomorrow – I’d be happy to put one on one side for you?’
‘Actually, I wanted to buy the one that’s the Kit on a Shit.’
Pardon? The what ?
Silence.
‘Miss Vita?’
It’s him! The sod, the sod !
Quick! Be wacky! Be clever!
But she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
‘Vita?’
‘I’m—’ I’m what? ‘I’m trying to think of something really clever and wacky to say. Mister Rick the Dick.’
Laughter. She’d made him laugh. She felt very pleased with herself. And then all of a sudden she was saying, Yes, OK, yes – a drink tonight? Sure, why not! And that was when Tim came in. Vita turned away from him to have a moment to properly end the conversation, and Tim thought, Has she just turned her back on me? Then he thought, Who’s she on the phone to? She’s gone all furtive. And when Vita ended the call and turned to him, he saw her face was quite flushed.
‘Who was that?’
‘That?’
‘On the phone, Vita.’
‘Oh, no one. No one. Just someone, actually, from the show yesterday. I might pop back into London tonight. For another – another meeting. A meeting-type drinks thing.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Oh, a new supplier.’
‘Called?’
‘Mouse in a House.’
‘The person?’
‘Oh, er, Rick Edwards?’ She said it as if she wasn’t entirely sure she had the right surname. And then she thought, Why on earth am I doing that? Michelle would kill me and Candy
Jodie had been fine about not coming in because no matter how strapped she was, that girl liked working even less. Vita checked the ledger. Not much business had been done yesterday – but actually, it was about average for this time of year with the schools not yet on summer holidays. A text came through to her phone. It was Tim. How did it go?
She stared at the message and then she thought, You know what, I actually don’t want to correspond with you just yet. So she didn’t. Mid-morning, he sent the same text again, following that with another half an hour later which just said, U ok? Tx. It was his fallback text – the one he’d sent her over and over again, not for the last three or four months but frequently prior to that. It always used to give her a lift, that text. He’s thinking about me. Today, though, she saw it for what it was – him checking in, needing to know he was still alpha, not liking to be ignored, wanting to assume that she might not be OK, that she might be needy, down, just where he liked her to be. It was like his Night Babe, Txx texts – those had stopped too and initially she pined for them but now she saw them as equally manipulative. How could he send those to her when his new girlfriend was no doubt waiting for him in bed? And did that mean that when Vita was still with him, he was sneaking out the same text behind her back too? Today she felt a novel nothing about this contact from Tim. A non-feeling that was a great feeling. No surge in her stomach, no intrusion into her thinking, no need to text back in the way she would have done not so very long ago.
Lunch-time was quiet so she continued with the notes she’d been making about ideas for window display, about rotating stock, even rearranging the layout of the shop altogether. She was standing in the centre of the floor, trying to envisage the tables over there, moving the trunk out of which the throws and cushions were displayed to over here, shifting the baskets to the side wall and the console over that side, when the shop phone rang.
‘That Shop – can I help you?’ she answered.
‘Hullo. I’m looking for this great new toy I’ve heard about called Dog on the Bog or something?’
Vita couldn’t believe it – her first solo trade show and she’d pinpointed the new must-have! The caller was American or Canadian or perhaps even Australian.
‘Clog!’ she said. ‘The dog is in a clog .’
‘That’s the one.’
‘My stock is due in tomorrow – I’d be happy to put one on one side for you?’
‘Actually, I wanted to buy the one that’s the Kit on a Shit.’
Pardon? The what ?
Silence.
‘Miss Vita?’
It’s him! The sod, the sod !
Quick! Be wacky! Be clever!
But she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
‘Vita?’
‘I’m—’ I’m what? ‘I’m trying to think of something really clever and wacky to say. Mister Rick the Dick.’
Laughter. She’d made him laugh. She felt very pleased with herself. And then all of a sudden she was saying, Yes, OK, yes – a drink tonight? Sure, why not! And that was when Tim came in. Vita turned away from him to have a moment to properly end the conversation, and Tim thought, Has she just turned her back on me? Then he thought, Who’s she on the phone to? She’s gone all furtive. And when Vita ended the call and turned to him, he saw her face was quite flushed.
‘Who was that?’
‘That?’
‘On the phone, Vita.’
‘Oh, no one. No one. Just someone, actually, from the show yesterday. I might pop back into London tonight. For another – another meeting. A meeting-type drinks thing.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Oh, a new supplier.’
‘Called?’
‘Mouse in a House.’
‘The person?’
‘Oh, er, Rick Edwards?’ She said it as if she wasn’t entirely sure she had the right surname. And then she thought, Why on earth am I doing that? Michelle would kill me and Candy
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