‘Because she is evil,’ we said, together.
‘Yes, exactly,’ I said. ‘She doesn’t need knitwear because she derives warmth from the fires of hell. But I make stuff for everyone else, so it’s not a big deal. And the dog was… look, after I dropped his clothes round, I had to do a weekly shop and I bumped into him at Asda. He was there buying dog food for a stray dog he’d found and I let him have some of Aunt Lou’s old dog stuff, then gave them a lift home. He asked me to post in the Facebook group to see if anyone lost him. That’s all.’
‘You went by the flat?’ Emma raised her eyebrows. ‘Together?’
‘I… yes. Just for a second, to get the lead and bits for the dog. It’s not like I haven’t been alone with him in his home before,’ I said, feeling a bit prickly. Ordinarily would I let a strange man know my address? No, of course not. But Cooper was different. I trusted him. Why that was I couldn’t say. Maybe because out of everyone I knew he’d never hurt me, accidentally or on purpose, with a comment or a criticism. He just seemed to accept everything I said and did with interest instead of critique. Even my own mother couldn’t manage that.
‘Hmm.’ Emma drummed her star-and-moon acrylics on the counter. ‘So the cute rescuer also saves sweet little puppies. And he just happened to bump into you?’
‘At the one supermarket in town,’ I pointed out.
‘How did he get there? That’s quite far to walk, right? And he didn’t have a car or a bike with him?’
That brought me up short. I hadn’t considered that before. How had Cooper got to Asda by the time I did? It was a long walk, especially with an unfamiliar dog on an improvised lead.
‘I don’t know, he could have hitch-hiked or… taken the bus,’ I said, suddenly realising. ‘He probably took the bus. They let dogs on. I saw a man with a duck in a cage on there once.’
That seemed to convince Emma at least. She let the subject drop with a hum and went to make tea in the break room. I finished setting up the shop floor for another day and followed her back there to collect my mug. We returned to the shop front together and, after unlocking the door and turning the sign over, I sat at the counter with her, waiting for customers.
‘How was your weekend?’ I asked to forestall further Cooper talk. I didn’t want to examine that whole mess too closely.
‘Pretty good – had to pop to Home Bargains for the new Halloween décor, bought some lovely cushions and a new blanket. Then made myself a little Sunday roast and watched a Catherine Cookson.’ Emma blew on her tea. ‘How was the party on Saturday, by the way?’
Crap. I immediately tried to think of a lie but I could tell Emma had already picked up on my pause. She frowned.
‘Did something happen? Oh God, please tell me that Eton mess on your Instagram made it to the party and didn’t fall in the foot well – that happened to me with a trifle. There were sprinkles in my floor mats for months.’
I laughed, but even to me it sounded strained. ‘Nothing like that, thankfully. Um… I had a little falling-out with Mum, that was all. So I went home early.’ At Emma’s surprised expression, I hurriedly corrected myself. ‘Not even a falling-out really. It was nothing – she just didn’t take the news about the break-up the way I thought she would.’
Understatement of the year. Not even in my most dire imaginings had my mother flatly asked if I was sure I wanted to dump my cheating boyfriend.
‘Oh, hon, you could have called me – what did she say?’ Emma asked.
‘She… asked me if I was sure,’ I said, shrugging. ‘That was it. I probably overreacted.’
‘Sure?’ Emma repeated, as if it was an entirely new word to her. ‘About breaking up with Richard?’
I nodded.
‘Richard, who you walked in on while he was having sex with another woman in your home? On your blanket!?’
I winced at the volume, but nodded again. ‘I didn’t tell her I’d seen him, just that he cheated…’
‘Youtold herand she still said… wow, no wonder you left. I’m so sorry.’ Emma put her hand on my arm and gave it a squeeze, her gemstone bracelets tinkling together. ‘Have you spoken since?’
‘She rang yesterday morning but we didn’t really talk about it. You know how she is. But I will talk to her about what she said, I just have other stuff to be worried about right now.’
To be honest, the way Emma was reacting made me feel a bit worse about it. I’d tried to minimise how horrible the whole situation had been. But hearing Emma be so flabbergasted was making it more and more real to me that Mum’s reaction to the news of Richard cheating had been far from what normal people would consider appropriate from the mother of the injured party.
I didn’t mention Richard showing up drunk because I knew already what Emma would say. She was love and light when it came to saving spiders and putting crystals over the door but she’d be disappointed in me for not telling Richard where to go and throwing him back out into the night. I was sort of disappointed in myself. Even if it had been the responsible thing to do, I could have just called him a taxi or made him book an Uber. I didn’t have to let him stay the night, but I had. It was hard. I’d thought I could turn off all my feelings for him and to a certain extent I had. But some of them had deeper roots than I’d anticipated. Illogical, inconvenient roots.
‘Well, let me know if you need some moral support,’ Emma said. ‘Or an alibi.’
‘I will do. Thanks,’ I said, glad the subject was being dropped. ‘And, hey, let’s schedule in that “Stitch and Witch”, hmm? It can’t hurt.’ While Emma created a new group chat, I thought privately that, despite her reassurances, I didn’t want to keep burdening her with my crap when she had her own life to be concerned with. I could handle Mum and Richard. As for Cooper, he wasn’t mine to worry about. He was just a man, on a boat, passing through and soon he’d be off somewhere else doing… whatever it was he did.
Why did that thought make me feel like someone had added weights to my shoes?
In a burst of distracting productivity, I made a free website for the shop and posted links to it in the local Facebook groups. It was nothing fancy, just a few pictures of the shop and stock, the address and our contact information. But at least now anyone googling for craft shops nearby would be able to find us. I’d been naïve to think we’d survive on foot traffic and word of mouth alone. I had to get the shop out there and bring people to us if we were ever going to be more than a brief novelty on the high street. An embarrassment under a ‘To Let’ sign.
