Page 90 of Date with Destiny

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Nothing. Myfanwy’s not been online and I remain unread. I’m sure they’re probably just too busy yay-ing and probably having lovely celebratory sex or something. But Myfe promised me she’d take a two-second loo break after the proposal to let me know how it went. And she hasn’t.

Oh god, this is too tense. I need to distract myself. I stareat the store door, willing a customer with a complicated ring-related question to walk through.

For the first time in ages, I’m back in the original store, working here instead of the new location, covering for Toni who’s flat-hunting – and it is so nice. I feel like I’ve come home.

Celeste hasn’t said much, but I think she’s finally realizing the accessories range and expansion were a mistake. I know the new place has been making no money at all, despite my best efforts. The trouble is, so few people come in, and those that do would always take one look around at the empty white walls, and leave again.

But I don’t understand Myfanwy not messaging me with the biggest news of her life!AAARGH!

Celeste sweeps in from the back office. She’s been making a big effort to be in store lately. I have a feeling it’s on the advice of her team as the internet continues to mock her failing expansion. Admittedly, her presence has brought some celebrity oglers in, but they don’t tend to buy stuff.

On cue, two customers walk through the door and I stand to attention. I can tell right away that these two are just window-shopping and won’t want to be bothered.

‘Can I help at all?’ Celeste shrieks across the room and when the couple look up, I realize that – for the first time in my living memory – recognition doesn’t light up in their eyes.

They don’t know who she is!

‘No thanks,’ the man mutters and I see the woman glance at the door, already planning an exit.

Celeste takes no notice, sweeping over and waving in my direction. ‘My darling Ginny here will help you, she’s an expert in our entire, personally curated range.’ They look blank as I awkwardly shuffle towards them, feeling like a child in the playground being forced to play with the new kid. ‘No reality star accessories in here,’ Celeste twinkles, choosing not to notice their discomfort. ‘Just hand-selected, tasteful items from our family-run business.’ She gives me a tiny shove, and I land at their feet.

‘Was there, er, something specific you were looking for?’ I enquire politely, knowing full well they will be out of here in moments.

‘Not really,’ the man mumbles. ‘Just looking…’

‘We have to get going actually, we…’ The woman gestures towards the door, and I step back, giving her space.

‘Of course,’ I say as warmly as possible. I clock her body language, relaxing as she realizes there won’t be a hard sell. ‘Oh wow,that’sstunning!’ Her eye catches something in one of the cases and she moves towards it. ‘Look, Gerry!’ She waves the man over and he reluctantly joins her, glancing longingly at the door again. ‘My grandmother always wore something just like that!’ She beams at me, adding unnecessarily, ‘My grandmother on my mother’s side. Maisie was her name – she was so glamorous! We used to go over for Sunday lunch and Grandma would always be dressed to the nines! She wore a brooch exactly like that!’ She jabs smeary fingers at the glass case. ‘I was always obsessed with it. My sisters and I used to fight over who would get it when shedied, but then my aunt swooped in and nabbed it. I think one of my cousins has probably sold it off by now.’ She gives me a dark look. ‘Bunch of money-grabbers, that side of the family. One of them went to prison, you know?’ She nods pointedly at me like I should be horrified. ‘I think it was for a pyramid scheme thing butstill.’

‘This is a piece from our vintage selection,’ I tell her nicely, vaguely aware that another customer has arrived behind us. Toni’s off today, viewing flats with Shawn, so it’s just me and Celeste. God, she might actually have to serve someone herself –imagine. ‘Would you like to have a proper look?’ I offer and the woman nods, almost salivating. I unlock the case and tenderly retrieve the brooch, holding it carefully with a handkerchief. Laying it gingerly on the case, the woman leans in, nose practically touching the brooch.

‘It’s beautiful!’ she breathes.

It is actually. It’s a Victorian art-deco 15 carat gold bird brooch. Two swallows made from seed pearl face one another mid-flight. They look like they might crash into each other but that’s what I like about it. We’re all mid-flight, trying not to crash into each other, aren’t we?

‘Can I touch it?’ the woman asks respectfully and I nod.

‘Of course!’

She picks it up and sighs happily. ‘It really is exactly like Grandma’s,’ she tells Gerry, who stands just behind, hopping from foot to foot. He looks like a man who knew he shouldn’t have come into an expensive jewellery storewithout a plan. ‘Is it mad to get it? I really love it!’ She turns to Gerry, with a look I’ve seen on many-a-face over the years. She is in love.

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea!’ Gerry says in a panic and I discreetly move away, giving them a moment to fight it out.

As I do so, I spot a familiar face talking to Celeste. It’s Joey! The customer I helped with a proposal to his partner Hannah a few months ago. How lovely to see him again.

Except… I study their body language for a second, suddenly feeling a little concerned. He looks very intense, talking in animated tones to my mother, who in turn, wears a serious expression.

What could he be saying? Not complaining, surely? I worked so hard to make sure he had the most amazing experience buying his engagement ring and helping him plan the ultimate proposal, Zach and I even personally dropping off the ring at the hotel! My heart starts beating too fast.

‘We want it!’ The oversharing woman and poor Gerry are back, argument won and lost.

I escort them to the pay point, carefully wrap up the brooch in tissue paper, placing it in its original antique box, all the while trying not to side-eye the conversation taking place across the room.

What could they be talking about?

A bead of cold sweat runs down the middle of my back as I take payment and listen to the woman talk about how she’s going to wear the brooch every day and how that will show Shona from across the road who thinks she’s so amazing withher great aunt’s pin. She’s still talking to Gerry about ‘that bitch’ Shona as I wave them off.

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