Initially, Emily revelled in the attention but, leaving the third shop without having selected a single item to try on, her spirits sank. Historically, on Sloane Street, something irresistible hadalways presented itself. Not today. What to do? She left a shoe shop, slipped on her sunglasses, and walked away, the sun beating down on her bare shoulders. Outside Miguel’s, she nudged her sunglasses onto the crown of her head and smudged her face up against the glass. He was sitting behind his desk, chatting on the phone, his spare hand waving around as if drawing a picture in the air. He might offer her a coffee, take her mind off Fran. She pushed open the door. He glanced up and wiggled the fingers of his free hand in greeting.
Listening to the sympathetic Miguel on the phone, Emily felt the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement.
‘Of course, you are bitterly disappointed but darling, husbandsneverunderstand the price of true art. They expect you to furnish an entire villa on a budget that wouldn’t decorate a yurt properly!’ Miguel winked at Emily. ‘You must coax him. Maybe start with one room, show him what a difference we can make.’
Emily ran a fingertip along a marble-topped table. Stroking the cool surface made her feel calmer; this must have been delivered in the last few hours. She twisted over the price tag, her ears tuned in to her boss.
‘Yes, yes. You and Iknow your husband has given you a budget to furnish the entire house, not just the one room, but’ – his voice rose a few octaves – ‘you could make an innocent mistake, couldn’t you?’ He gave a throaty laugh.
The call finished and Miguel joined her by the marble table.
‘Do you think this would work in my entrance hall, below the picture of the dogs?’ she asked.
He inclined his head towards her. ‘Darling, it would be sublime! And for you, I can do a lot better than that tag suggests.’
Emily spluttered with laughter. ‘No, I’m not in the market for extravagant tables. But I might have a buyer, and she’s coming round in a few days. If you get it dropped off and pay me my usual commission, I think I could sell this.’
‘Deal,’ said Miguel. ‘Now, how about a cup of coffee? I know you’re not working, but have you time to help? I cannot decide between two silks for a set of bed hangings and I’m seeing the client in an hour.’
Her eyes were instantly drawn to the swatches on Miguel’s desk, and she felt that buzz of excitement she used to get whenever she walked down Sloane Street.
In the evening, Emily opened her door to Fran, standing on her doorstep again like a persistent salesman.
‘I need your help,’ said Fran.
‘Actually, I was quite offended by what you said, so maybe you should ask someone else for help!’ Emily was closing the door when the younger woman started crying. She sighed and held the door a little wider. She didn’t want to end their friendship.
Emily led the way through to the kitchen, Fran trailing behind, a rucksack slung over one arm. ‘Tea, or would you prefer a glass of wine?’
‘Tea, please,’ said the younger woman, resting her bag on the floor.
‘What’s up this time?’ asked Emily, flicking on the kettle and pulling out two mugs.
‘I’m pregnant.’
Emily’s jaw dropped. She spun around. ‘Pregnant?’ she gasped.
‘Please,’ wheedled Fran. ‘Let me stay the night, just one more night?’
‘Fran, you need somewhere permanent to live,’ cried Emily.
‘I can’t afford it.’
‘But what about the father? He’ll have to help,’ Emily said, putting down the mugs.
‘I-I can’t ask him.’
‘Why not? Who is it?’
‘I can’t tell you who the father is.’
‘Can’t you even narrow it down a bit?’ Emily probed. Fran blinked but remained silent. ‘Well, whoever the father is, he must face up to his responsibilities. He can’t abandon you and the baby. Even if he won’t offer emotional support, he must be made to shoulder some of the financial burden.’
Fran screwed up her face, chewed her lip, and let out a barely audible sigh.
Emily watched the other woman and guessed, ‘Is he married? Is it your old landlord?’
‘Well, maybe ... but the thing is ...’ Fran spluttered to a stop like an engine running out of petrol.
