Page 12

Chapter 11

Anna

‘Oh hi,’ I begin when I find Margot on my doorstep.

She looks a little like someone trying to disguise they’re flustered. I spot red paint on her fingers and catch a whiff of white spirits. The smell makes me want to recoil.

‘You’ve left your garage door open,’ she says.

I turn and see it is, indeed, rolled to the top.

‘Drew,’ I tut. ‘He’s always forgetting to close it. I keep telling him it’s open invitation to be robbed but he never listens.’

She shoves a plastic food box into my chest.

‘My calorie-counting app tells me I’ve had enough trans fats for one day. And as you aren’t so bothered by your appearance, I thought I’d share these, if you’re not too busy tinkering?’

I hold back from informing her that yes, I do care about my appearance, and no, I’m not ‘tinkering’ but designing and creating jewellery, which is how I make my living. And then I notice she’s not making eye contact with me. She’s looking behind me. She’s spotted Liv in my kitchen. That’s why she’s here. She has FOMO.

‘Oh look, Liv’s here,’ Margot says.

I have little choice but to move to one side because she’s already crossing the threshold. I thought vampires couldn’t enter a house without an invitation.

It’s when I turn to go back inside that I spot a white envelope shoved part way through the door. The name it’s addressed to catches me unawares, as I haven’t used it in years. Then I recognise the blue-stamped postmark. I open it and skim the contents. It’s an appointment date nine months from now. It’s taken more than two years and three cancellations to get this far. But now a date has been attached to it, I’m not sure how I feel. I’m also unsure if I’ll mention this to Drew. He has it in his head that it will solve all my problems. He won’t accept it doesn’t work like that. I stuff the letter into my pocket.

‘Hello Liv,’ I hear Margot saying even more chirpily than when she greeted me. ‘How are you?’

Liv is hunched over the kitchen island, working her way through an array of necklaces and bracelets I’ve laid out in front of her on velvet sheets.

‘What a lovely surprise.’ Liv smiles as they air-kiss one another. ‘Anna didn’t mention you’d be joining us?’

‘I’ve been meaning to see her latest little creations for ages.’

That’s news to me. I’ve tried to show her my work a couple of times before. Once she broke a clasp, and the second time she told me a pendant reminded her of an orange poo emoji.

‘Look at these, aren’t they incredible?’ Liv enthuses. ‘She’s so talented.’

‘She certainly is,’ says Margot, I suspect through gritted teeth. ‘They’re ... neat.’

Strange choice of words.

‘You made your and Drew’s wedding rings, didn’t you?’ Margot asks me.

‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘Mine is gold and Drew’s is silver.’

‘Well, perhaps one day he’ll earn enough to buy you a proper ring.’

She joins Liv at the island, chooses a necklace at random and picks it up, pretending to give it her full attention.

‘Do you mind if I take some photos to send to my influencer friends?’ asks Liv. ‘Some are stylists, others are buyers, and a couple are Instagrammers.’

‘That’s really thoughtful,’ I say, perhaps a little overzealously.

She must take at least a dozen pictures, and I look over her shoulder as she sends them to a WhatsApp group titled ‘Fashion Huns’, then adds a carousel of them to her own Instagram page and tags me. She has almost ninety thousand followers. I realise Margot’s also watching, and going by her expression, she’s equally surprised by that figure.

‘Can I try that one on?’ asks Margot, pointing to a necklace.

It’s one from my recent Inferno range: a brass drawn cable chain holding flame-like loops made from red spinel, rhodonite and citrine.

‘It really suits you,’ says Liv as she helps Margot affix it. ‘Women with slightly thicker necks often struggle to pull off thin chains, but that looks great on you.’

Liv winks at me and I turn my head so a blanching Margot can’t see me react.

‘I think I’ll have this one,’ Margot says. It’ll be her first-ever purchase from me. ‘Invoice me.’

She takes it off and I give it a polish with a fine cloth before slipping it into a box. Liv turns her attention to Margot.

‘I feel like I should apologise for my drunken friend Anastasia at our New Year’s Eve party,’ she says. ‘I hope she didn’t embarrass you by bringing up the past? She really has no filter.’

‘I haven’t given it a second thought,’ Margot replies. ‘Those days are long behind me.’

I suspect they aren’t. You’re unlikely to forget being called the most reviled woman in Britain in a hurry.