‘It’s about France,’ he said.
‘Oh, Ben!’
‘Because look, I know how much you want to go.’
‘I do, I really do.’
‘So, let’s do it!’
‘What? Are you serious?’ She flung her arms around him – only just keeping her tea balanced in its mug - and nestled her head onto his shoulder, her heart hammering with a kind of surreal excitement. This wasn’t really happening, was it?
‘Wait, you haven’t heard the best bit!’ he said, drawing back and smiling confidently. ‘I saw an offer in the Express last week. A weekend in Paris, first class Eurostar, three-star hotel, just ?199 per person if you collect all the tokens. It’s our anniversary coming up isn’t it. And what a bargain!’
‘Oh.’
‘France, here we come!’ he said, his eyes searching her face for the reciprocal excitement he seemed sure he was going to find.
‘Um. Yes.’
It was as if he’d taken the helium out of her balloon of happiness and filled it instead with shit. It plummeted messily to the ground.
But, right now – she reminded herself – the disappointment was the least of her concerns. ‘OK,’ she said, trying to smile as her brain raced at 100 miles an hour. She’d email eBay and say she’d made a mistake. Maybe say she had a toddler who’d clicked the button by accident. See if there was any legal wriggle room. See how committed she actually was.
She wasn’t giving up on France. But this was definitely not the way she’d wanted to do it.
Because the email she’d opened just now hadn’t been confirmation of a break, a receipt for money paid or information from a letting agent. Instead it had read:
Congratulations! You placed the winning bid for Stone Cottage with 3000 m2 garden and outbuilding for renovation.
She’d scrolled down, only half understanding, then stopped when she’d seen the text at the bottom.
You have committed to buying this property for the sum of €48,601. Please contact the seller to complete the transaction.
She’d only gone and bought a bloody house.
4
‘So, what’s the emergency?’ Emily said as Lily opened the door. She was dressed in what looked like pyjama bottoms, which protruded from underneath a long coat. Her wavy brown hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. ‘I came as soon as I got your message.’
‘I can see that,’ Lily said, tucking her own sandy-blonde hair behind her ear and feeling rather guilty that she was showered and freshly washed. ‘I’m sorry if I made it seem… well, that urgent.’
‘Chrissakes, Lily! I thought I was going to have to rescue you from burglars, or, I don’t know, put out a house fire. You said, your message – I thought you were crying. But you seem fine!’ Emily said, stepping into the hall with an eye-roll.
‘I’ve calmed down.’
‘So nothing’s on fire?’
‘Nothing’s on fire.’
‘And I could have taken ten minutes to get dressed?’
‘You could have taken an hour. Sorry. I should have been a bit clearer on the phone.’ Lily grimaced apologetically.
‘So what on earth is this emergency? And what exactly do you need rescuing from?’ Emily said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. ‘I thought I was meant to be the dramatic one!’
‘Shh, keep your voice down!’ Lily said, glancing furtively over her shoulder.
‘Why the shushing? I thought you said Ben was out?’
‘Yes, he’s out. It’s just, Ty’s still here. Asleep, I think, but you never know. And I’m just not… I don’t want anyone to know about this yet.’
‘Now I am intrigued. What on earth have you done, Lily Butterworth? Surely it can’t be that bad?’ Emily said, slipping off her coat, throwing it over the banister and revealing that she had indeed come out in chequered pyjama bottoms and a creased T-shirt that read ‘sweet dreams, sweetie pie’.
Lily grinned. ‘Nice outfit,’ she said. She placed a quick hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘But thank you,’ she added. ‘I mean, you seriously came through for me.’
‘You mean I overdid it, as usual.’
‘Well, maybe. But it was my fault.’
They smiled at each other for a moment, then Emily shook her head. ‘You only get to cry wolf a couple of times, you know, before people don’t bother to turn up any more,’ she said.
‘I know.’