When she finally leaves the shop, I’m exhausted and Ben has a six-thousand-pound order. In an effort to stop myself screaming with delight, frustration and jealousy, I have to put my hands over my mouth. I hear the scream echo inside my gut for over an hour.
5. Fern
‘Darling, you are a wonder,’ gushes Ben. ‘I am so pleased with the gigantic order that Bridezilla placed that I’m giving you the rest of the afternoon off. I’m a marvellous boss, I know. Don’t thank me,’ he waves his arms theatrically. ‘I’m embarrassed by my own generosity,’ he adds with a wink.
I love Ben, he’s such a laugh to be around and I know his offer is kind but I’m reluctant to accept it. I’m going out with Jess and Lisa tonight and if I’m not working I am unsure how to kill the time in between. Time alone and without tasks means I might have to think about the sorry state of affairs my life has become. Not a favourite option right now.
I definitely don’t want to go back to the flat; the air there is stale with disenchantment and anxiety, and I’m too broke to waste time in shops. No matter how much I kid myself to the contrary, I know that window-shopping will lead to an impulse purchase today. No woman can resist the lure of a cheer-up top/pair of shoes/new bag (‘it’s a classic/basic/essential, will come in handy/be perfect for that special occasion/is in the sale and therefore a bargain’). The reality is, of course, it’s an impulse purchase, bought in order to bring cheer, that just makes things worse. Then you’re down and broke, with a constant reminder of your own financial and emotional frailty.