He shook it off. No point in dragging all that back up now. And anyway, today wasn’t the day for looking backwards. From the moment several years before that he’d said goodbye to Mel, he’d been all about moving forwards, keeping going, cutting losses.
Since he’d returned from LA, he’d used the cash he’d earned to fund the new shop, taking the vacant lease on the premises that had once been La Femme, L’Homme, now closed down and long gone.
His new venture had been a success from day one.
To the outside world, Cammy was a man about town, an irrepressibly handsome, successful businessman and – until Lila – one of the most eligible bachelors in the city.
It had all gone to plan so far. Career established? Tick. Financial security? Tick. Love? Tick. Now it was time to focus on the next stage in his life and after getting used to the idea for the last few weeks, he knew he wanted to marry Lila. He wanted to have kids. Enough of being the perennial bachelor. He’d had a couple of decades of partying hard, with no responsibilities or commitments, but lately, it hadn’t been enough. Making this step was the right move, he was sure of it. This was the first time he’d felt this way since…
He stopped himself. Damn, it still hurt. He’d been in love before and he’d messed it up, not told her, let someone else have the life that he wanted. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. And so what if he’d only known Lila for a few months? It felt right. That was all that mattered.
‘Right let’s go, ladies.’
‘Under protest,’ Josie muttered.
Val and Cammy ignored her.
As they pulled out of the underground car park, Val stopped for a moment and checked a page on her notepad. ‘Right, first stop, the arcade. Today is going to go exactly to plan. I can feel it in my water.’
The traffic was heavy all the way into the city centre, to the busy streets surrounding the pedestrianised area, but eventually they slipped into one of the few parking spaces still available in the multistorey in Mitchell Street. Cammy was surprised there were any left. This was the last Friday before Christmas and the streets were heaving.
From there, they walked down Mitchell Lane, and onto Buchanan Street, crossed through the throng of festiveshoppers, workers and buskers, then into the Argyle arcade, home to most of Glasgow’s fine jewellery stores. He’d taken ages picking the ring. Who knew there were so many choices? A solitaire. A trilogy. Diamond. Precious stones. In the end, he’d gone for a square emerald, with a diamond baguette on either side. He’d no idea what a baguette was, other than something that could be filled with tuna and eaten at lunch, but the manager of the shop had won him over to it, said it was similar to the one that he’d bought his wife and they’d been married for thirty years. Cammy took that as a good omen. Not that he believed in omens, but still…
The trio hadn’t even reached the shop when he realised something was amiss. The shutters were still down and there were a few people loitering outside.
‘Someone must have slept in,’ Val commented. ‘I just hope they had a wild night and it was worth it.’
Cammy didn’t hear the end of the sentence, too focussed on the sign that had now come into his field of vision, the one that was stuck to the barred window, in front of an empty display area and right next to the iron grate that was blocking the door.
closed until further notice.
‘Cammy… tell me that’s not the…’ Val couldn’t get the words out.
‘It is,’ he answered.
‘The ring, you’ve already paid for it?’
Of course he had. Not all of it. But a hefty deposit, almost a grand, to secure the sale. He hadn’t wanted to take it home in case Lila found it, so he’d decided it would be far better to leave it here and pick it up on the morning of the proposal.
They were at the door now, next to a woman who was being comforted by a man as she sobbed, a couple of elderly bystanders and a security guard.
‘What’s going on here, mate?’ Cammy asked the guard, hoping that it was something minor that had delayed the opening. A puncture. A hangover. A lottery win.
‘Shut down. Manager did a midnight flit with the cash, the stock and the owner’s wife. Don’t fancy his chances if that guy finds him before the cops do.’
This couldn’t be happening. For a moment, he hoped it was all an elaborate ruse dreamt up by Josie to derail the nuptials, but she looked as shocked as him and, God love her, was offering to sacrifice herself to fix it.
‘Want me to break in and see if it’s still there?’ Josie hissed. ‘At my age, they’d never convict me.’
That was all he needed – the intervention of Glasgow’s finest CID. ‘Thanks for the offer, but we’re good.’
Except, this wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.
A grand. Gone. His ring. Gone. His plan for the day. Seriously gone awry.
Just as well he didn’t believe in omens.
Because if he did…
