Page 56 of Wrapped Up In You

But she’s smiling when she comes back to me. ‘Seven hundred quid for that lot,’ she beams as she high-fives me. ‘Cheers, Janie. This was a great idea.’

‘There’s only Steph, then me.’ Moment of truth.

‘I’ve noticed some of the stuff you’ve got there, hun,’ Nina says, suddenly serious. ‘That’s your Mum’s.’

‘I know. I’m keeping a couple of bits of the important stuff. These are just trinkets.’

‘Yeah, but they’re your Mum’s trinkets.’

‘I need to see him, Nina.’

My friend takes my hands. ‘This worries me, Janie. It’s not like you to be silly. He’s just a bloke. They come, they go. Don’t pin all your hopes on him. Chances are, he’ll let you down.’

I lay my head on her shoulder. ‘I have to believe otherwise, Nina.’

Then the gold dealer nods at me and it seems like it’s my turn.

Chapter Forty-One

The dealer gives me fifteen hundred pounds. A not inconsiderable sum. At any other time, I’d be running around the room doing a happy dance. The piece that turned out to be the most expensive from my haul was my ring from Paul. It was 24-carat gold and I got five hundred pounds for that alone. I mouth a little prayer of thanks to my ex-boyfriend and hope that he wouldn’t be too disappointed to know that I was parting with it. I hope he’d be glad to be helping me in my quest to find true love.

I fidget while the man from All That Glitters goes through the ritual of packing away his equipment and the jewellery he has just purchased into a large briefcase, then with effusive thanks I show him to the door.

When the dealer’s gone, I sit back down again next to my friend. The others are in the kitchen tucking into cheese and wine. They are giddy with their success and I can hear talk about going clubbing straight from here. Oh, to be young again.

‘That was pretty good,’ Nina says.

‘Yes.’ Then I sigh. ‘But it’s not enough.’

‘Wow,’ my friend says, eyes wide. ‘That’s going to be one expensive Christmas flingaway.’

Is Nina right? Is it madness, I think, to blow this amount of cash? I quickly tot up how long it would take me to earn that money, how many months’ mortgage that would cover. It’s a sobering sum. But then, no matter what my friends might think, this isn’t a Christmas fling for me. It’s about seeing the man I adore at a time of year when it’s so important to be with the ones we love. Isn’t that worth any amount of money?The worst thing is that even with my unexpected goldrush, I’m still a thousand pounds short. I’ve booked the holiday now, maxed the credit card. Where else am I going to get that sort of dosh?

‘I’ll have to do some more home hairdressing,’ I say.

‘You’ll have to cut like flipping Edward Scissorhands to get that sort of money together in the next few weeks.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Much as it pains me,’ Nina says, ‘I’ll lend you this.’ She holds out the seven hundred pounds she’s just acquired. ‘If it was for a bill, for your car or your house or something, I wouldn’t hesitate. But to blow it on a bloke?’ My friend whistles through her teeth. ‘Lady, I think you’re mad.’

I chew at my lip.

‘I’ll want it back, Janie. Every last penny.’

‘I can’t take it,’ I tell her. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ll work something out.’

‘If you don’t have it now, then I’ll spend it,’ Nina warns.

‘I’ll find some way of making it.’

She shrugs. ‘Lets go and join the others, have a top-up and celebrate our good fortune.’

‘Sounds good to me.’

When they’ve gone, I tidy up – who knew that so few people could use so many wine glasses – and then go upstairs to bed. Archie, very unhappy about having his house invaded for the evening, is sulking. He hooks a single but deadly claw into my thigh and hangs on for grim death while I try to detach him.

‘Archie,’ I scold, ‘play nicely. I have things on my mind.’

With much kitty backchat, he settles on the bed and I pull Dominic’s blanket around both of us.

‘What am I going to do?’ I ask my cat. ‘Do you think this is madness? Everyone else seems to think that it is.’

Archie miaows and I wonder if I should interpret that as a ‘Yes, of course you’re mad, woman. Think of all the cat food you could buy with that money,’ type of miaow.

Lying here on a cold December night, it seems like madness to me too. Despite my bravado at parting with some of Mum’s jewellery, I’m now wracked with guilt and I really hope that she would understand. Chasing my dream is going to be expensive. I cling to the thought that my dear old mum would have thought that it was great fun to have a Maasai warrior in the family.

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