She usually joined them for dinner at least once a week. She was immensely grateful that there was always room for her; they were the nearest thing she had to a family. She adored the children, and had liked Ahmat from the moment she met him, even though they rarely agreed when it came to politics. They often had heated discussions—the kind you can only have with someone you’re very close to.
However—and this was hard for her to admit, even to herself—sometimes the gratitude stuck in her throat. She knew Bea felt that she belonged there, but the constant sense of having to feel grateful could be wearing. Since she had no plans to build a family of her own, she was very glad that she could borrow theirs, so to speak.
After dinner, Nora produced the goodies she had brought. Bea made tea, they put everything on a tray, and then they pulled on their jackets and headed out to the shed to find the decorations.
“It feels so weird to be doing this in November,” Nora said. “I mean ... what’s everyone going to think?”
“Stop sounding like my anxious granny,” Bea replied. “Nobody’s going to think anything—everyone knows it’s for the TV show.”
“But the leaves have only just fallen from the trees.”
Bea gave her a reproachful look. “For God’s sake, Nora—it’s for TV! Let it go.” Her tone was teasing, but she looked concerned as she unlocked the door of the shed. Nora set the tray down, and they startedto take down and go through the boxes. Nora pulled down a box with an audible sigh.
“Are you okay? You look a little ... pale.”
“I’m fine, it’s just a bit much with all the filming and keeping the business going at the same time.”
“You’re not yourself. You don’t usually care what people think, not like that.”
“It’s hard to be myself when there are cameras in my face all day every day.” Nora couldn’t bring herself to tell Bea what had happened, even though she knew she should. She put some marmalade on a piece of crispbread and took a bite.
“How’s filming going?”
Nora shook her head. “That Henrik Eklund is such a pompous asshole. That incident at the hotel was kind of embarrassing, but everything I said was true. When he starts criticizing me, I just want to slash my throat with a bread knife and put an end to my suffering.”
“Surely it can’t be that bad?” Bea said with a wry smile.
“He always takes it too far. He seems to be doing his best to make me look incompetent.” Nora took a sip of her tea, then opened the box to discover the brass Advent candleholders.
“How so?” Bea asked, helping herself to some crispbread.
“Something ...” Nora took a deep breath. She knew Bea wouldn’t give up until she knew what was going on, and she was incapable of keeping secrets from her friend. “Something happened yesterday. The producers are very good at getting me to open up, and I started talking about Mom and Dad ... All the old memories came flooding back, I’d hardly slept, and then Henrik launched into an attack on my finances, said I’d run the business into the ground, and I ... broke down.”
“In what way?”
Nora said nothing. She just looked at Bea.
“Oh, Nora.” Bea gave her a hug, held her close. “And what did they do? Did they help you?”
“Yes, they did.” She had no intention of revealing how traumatic it had been to find herself surrounded by strangers when she was at her most vulnerable.
“So what happens now?” Bea let go of her.
Nora shrugged. “The plan is to carry on filming. They offered me counseling, but I’ve had my share of therapy, so I said no.”
“But they were the ones who provoked this reaction?”
“Yes. Although there’s other stuff going on too. Financial pressures, lack of sleep, too much work ...”
“I’m so sorry I applied on your behalf,” Bea said quietly. “I didn’t know ...” She broke off. “I didn’t realize it would be like this.”
“It’s not your fault,” Nora said, placing a hand on Bea’s arm. “I’ve got a few days’ break from filming, and hopefully things will feel better after that.”
The fact was that she neededLet’s Get Baking. Her daily earnings had broken record after record since filming began, and if that continued for even a little while longer, she might be able to save the business. She pushed aside her worries about her overdraft situation. She would call the bank tomorrow—no doubt it was some kind of technical glitch. She looked at Bea. “Can’t we talk about something else? Something more fun? For example, who had the bad taste to buy this bauble?” Nora held up a gigantic neon-green ornament depicting female bikini-clad Santas.
Bea laughed. “What can I say in my defense? It cost a fortune! I was in London, young and in love, on my first trip with Ahmat. I wanted to show him that I was edgy and cool, but a thoughtful friend at the same time, so I bought you a ridiculously expensive and kitschy ornament.”
Nora laughed and put it back. She couldn’t put it up in the café, but it always had pride of place on her Christmas tree at home.
