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She pulled her phone from her hoodie pocket, tapped the screen and looked back up, a pained expression on her face.

My phone buzzed and I quickly opened the message.

Sorry xx

My blood ran cold. ‘Wait!’

But Casey turned and ran.

Chapter 2

Casey, London

Eleven years later

Ilean against a department store pillar and check my work emails while Eva drums her glossy, manicured nails on the shelf of a display unit.

‘I can’t decide,’ Eva says to Dante, the wedding planner. ‘I love the decanter, but we’d probably get more use out of the glasses. We should use our gifts, right?’

‘Oh, absolutely,’ Dante says. I glance up from my phone as Dante picks up a tumbler, carefully turns it and says, ‘And these are gorgeous. Look at the detail in the crystal.’

‘Hmm,’ Eva says, tapping a fingertip against her bottom lip. ‘But that decanter…’

This back-and-forth has lasted for at least five minutes and if I’m ever going to get back to work today, it needs to end. ‘What the fuck are we going to use a decanter for, Eva?’ I say.

Dante clears their throat and replaces the glass.

Eva slowly turns to face me, a faint scowl marking her brow. ‘It would be a wedding gift, Casey. Something nice to have. It’s a Louis the Thirteenth from France.’

I smirk at the retort that’s popped into my head and can’t resist voicing it. ‘Well, I hope he blew the fucking glass himself for that price.’

Eva’s scowl deepens. ‘Do you have to swear in the middle of Selfridges?’ Her plummy accent has suddenly become more pronounced.

I narrow my eyes at her. She knows I hate the little digs that serve as a reminder she’s a step above me in the society food chain – or thinks she is. But then I check myself; maybe I’m overreacting. I have been a mardy cow today. I give a conciliatory sigh and push myself off the pillar. ‘Sorry. Work is full-on at the minute. My head’s a mess. Do you want the decanter?’

‘Not if you don’t,’ she says with exasperation and shifts her attention back to Dante. ‘We’ll go for the glasses.’

My eyes widen when I clock the price tag of said glasses. ‘They’re over two thousand quid!’

Eva turns back to me, one dark eyebrow raised. ‘They’re Waterford crystal. What do you expect?’

‘I expect our wedding guests to have affordable options.’ I soften my tone. ‘You know my friends and family can’t afford anything like that, and even if they could I wouldn’t want them to spend it.’

She sniffs. ‘Well, these will be the gifts for my guests to buy then. If I can’t have the decanter, I want the glasses.’

Dante’s eyes dart between us, finger poised over their iPad. ‘We’re going for the glasses?’

I stare at Eva, dumbfounded that she can be so dismissive of my concerns. I shake my head and return to my emails. ‘I guess.’

‘Do you want this cutlery set on the gift registry?’ Eva asks me.

‘Sure,’ I say, typing out a reply to an email on my phone.

‘Casey! Will you please stop working. This is important.’

I hit send, slip my phone into my trouser pocket and peer down at gold-plated stainless-steel cutlery. ‘Isn’t normal stainless steel good enough?’

Eva places her hands on her hips, green eyes blazing, while Dante glances around the shop floor awkwardly.