Page 29 of Secrets at the Little Music Shop

‘Full of graffiti and smells of wee?’ I got there first.

‘No, that’s my car.’

‘You have a car?’ My voice went so squeaky that Alsatians in Milan could probably hear me.

‘Mmm-hmmm.’ Ben seemed to be enjoying my astonishment.

‘Are you sure?’

In answer he grasped me around the wrist and pulled me over to the huge window which let daylight into the hall. It was high and arched and almost as big as a door. ‘Does that look like something I might be a little uncertain about?’ He pointed with his free hand at the silver car parked on the roadside beyond the black railings. ‘Or does it look more like an Audi R8?’

‘That is one sexy car,’ I said, a concise, if not exactly Top Gear-level critique.

Ben opened his mouth then obviously thought better of it and began to lead the way down the sleek hallway. Another archway gave onto a huge, high-ceilinged room, still with wooden floors, which contained a few sofas clustered in a corner like furniture playing Sardines. ‘Sit down and I’ll get you a drink. White wine?’

He wandered over to a cabinet while I gingerly sat on one of the sofas. It was extremely comfortable, squashy and yet firm at the same time. From here I could see the enormous speakers along the walls. ‘Is this your music room then?’

He didn’t answer, rummaging around and opening doors, then emerging with two glasses of golden-yellow wine. ‘So, tell me about Saskia.’

‘Nothing to tell. She’s stopped selling my things, but she’s got Rosie working like a demon.’

‘Are she and Jason . . . ?’

‘What is your obsession with Jason’s sex life? No, as far as I know, Saskia is not having any kind of thing with Jase. She may be an evil harpy with a hole where her heart should be, but she’s happily married to Alex. Well, she’s happily married to his wallet anyway. Mm, this wine’s nice.’

‘I’m still not clear why you and Rosie hang around with her. If she’s such a witch. Don’t you have other friends?’

There was a pause. ‘She was the first person who actually believed in my jewellery,’ I said, thinking fast. I couldn’t tell him that it was only supplying Saskia that had kept me from having to sleep in a box under a bridge after I’d arrived in York. ‘I met Jason in a bar, he introduced me to Saskia when he found out what I did, then I met Rosie and moved in.’

Ben looked at me levelly. ‘Okay, not asking for your life story, Jemima.’

And you’re not going to get it. I’ve seen enough people turn away in disgust and I couldn’t bear — I don’t want to see that look in your eyes, that look that says ‘I pity you.’ The look that tells me, what happened made me less than you. A no-one.

‘No.’

‘But she’s not stocking you now, so surely you don’t have to feel obliged to go to this do tonight?’

‘I keep hoping she’ll change her mind. And if she meets you and finds out that you are willing to sell my buckles — well, she might be so overwhelmed with competitive spirit that she’ll try to buy me back.’

Ben looked at me over his glass. ‘So, I’m coming to try to provoke her jealousy, am I? Oh, it’s okay, I don’t mind, just as long as I know.’

I drained my glass quickly. The dryness of the wine made my throat shrink. ‘We’d better go.’ I stood up and managed to get the heel of my ridiculous shoes caught in the wiring from the speakers. As I bent to sort myself out I could see that none of the speaker wires were plugged in. Either to the mains or to the back of the speakers. They were all rigged up right, just not connected. ‘Ben—’

‘Are you coming then?’ He’d collected a large bunch of keys, dropped what looked like his mobile on a table and was waiting in the doorway. Seeing him standing there looking really quite beautiful in his bow tie and loose jacket I completely forgot about the wiring.

‘I’m ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. Are we driving?’ All right I admit it, I’m a car slut. I could have sat in that Audi all night without even starting the engine, just for the experience.

‘It’s only down the road, isn’t it? Besides, now I’ve had a glass of wine.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Saskia’s face, seeing me turning up in an Audi R8 was going to have to remain a figment of my imagination.

In the event, when we reached Le Petit Lapin, Saskia was inside, deep in the throng; she wouldn’t have noticed if I’d arrived by donkey. The shop was packed. There were skinny women in chiffon frocks everywhere, like tissue-wrapped sticks, and a clash of perfume and aftershave strong enough to knock your nose off-kilter for a week. Ben hesitated.

‘Bloody hell.’ He began fidgeting with his hair. ‘There’s a lot of people.’

I looked up at the golden front of the shop. Even the first-floor windows had people in them, holding glasses and trying to look enthralled at being pressed against an unrelated armpit. ‘More than I expected,’ I replied. ‘Maybe it was “Buy One Get One Free” down at RentaCrowd.’

Ben gave me a ghost of a smile. ‘I’ve just lost the knack of circulating. Still, it’ll be nice and noisy in there, I guess.’

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