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‘We can’t wait,’ Mrs Silverton carries on.
Then I hear nothing else that she says. My client is twittering on about where she’s staying and what they’re doing, but all I can think of is that it doesn’t have to be like this. I don’t have to be miserable and by myself. I too could be going to the Maasai Mara for the holidays. I could see Dominic for a few days. I could fly straight to him. All I’d have to do is raise the money.
I finish Mrs Silverton and, clearly, she didn’t notice that I was off in my own world as she gives me a very big and very welcome tip.
At the desk, I book her next appointment and then turn to Kelly. ‘I’ve still got a week’s holiday left,’ I tell her. ‘Any chance that I can take the days off between Christmas and New Year?’
My boss flicks through the appointments’ screen on the computer with a well-manicured finger. ‘There’s not much in your book yet,’ she concedes. ‘Will any of your clients be desperate?’
‘I’ve got most of them booked in for the twenty-third.’ We don’t work Christmas Eve any longer as we used to get so many cancellations from people who’d got distracted down the pub that it wasn’t really worth it. I’m thinking that if Kelly says yes, then I could perhaps get a flight on Christmas Eve.
‘Is this about you chasing after this man?’
‘I’d like to go out to see him again,’ I correct.
Kelly sighs. ‘You can go, Janie, of course you can. But be careful. Take it slowly.’
This is from a girl whose boyfriend is a petty crook, thirty years older than her and thinks she’s fat to boot. Who is she to tell me to take it slowly? Did anyone say that to her when she hooked up with her wholly unsuitable man? Or did she think then that love comes in many shapes and forms? Does she still love him now? I guess she must do to live on diet bars rather than real food at his behest.
That night, I get on the internet. There are trips available to the Maasai Mara over Christmas but as Mrs Silverton so rightly prophesised, they cost an arm and a leg. I look at the meagre balance of my savings account and realise that there’s no way that will cover it. If I’m serious about going to see Dominic again so soon then I’m going to have to sell something to raise the cash.
How long would I have to wait if I simply saved up my spare money every month? He might have forgotten me by the time I could go out there again. But what can I sell? There’s very little that I have of value that I could bear to part with.
Nevertheless, my heart’s pounding when I access my Facebook page and type a message to Dominic:
I’d love to see you at Christmas. Do you want me to come?
I sit back. All I can do now is wait for his reply.
Chapter Forty
Four days later, a message comes back:
Yes, Janie Johnson. I would very much like to see you again. I miss you.
All my love, Dominic.
That’s enough for me. I’m going to book the trip right away. While I’ve been waiting for Dominic’s reply, I put my mind to what I could sell and I’ve dredged up every scrap of jewellery that I can lay my hands on. Gold, so they say, is at an all-time high and surely I could get the price of my ticket for this lot.
I tip my stash out on the bed. A couple of bracelets that look dated now. Some broken chains that I’ve never got round to having mended. There’s a ring that Paul bought me – not an engagement ring, but a nice dress ring. It was expensive and I loved it when he bought it, but now I never wear it. It may seem harsh to be selling presents that my former love bought me, but is it better to live with memories or to put it towards investment in a brighter future? That day when he came to the salon to tell me that he’s getting married and is about to become a father, he said that he would do anything to help me. Surely this would count? I’d like to think that it would.
There’s a load of other stuff here too, some of which will be much harder to sell. I have some of my mother’s jewellery that I inherited when she died of cancer some years ago now. I’ve put two pieces aside that I could never part with – Mum’s wedding ring and a sapphire pendant that she was particularly fond of – but the rest of it? There’s a brooch set with pearls and diamonds – not one of Mum’s favourites, I hardly ever saw her wear it, but could I sell it? Could I cut that emotional link and let it go to a stranger in return for a fistful of cash? Would my mother turn in her grave at the thought of me doing this or would she give me her blessing and encourage me to follow my dream?
I’ll have to decide soon. I’ve organised a gold party at my house tonight with the organisation, All That Glitters. Everyone from work is coming along, most of them hoping to raise a few extra pounds for their Christmas funds. Me, I have a very different reason for doing this.
