The Peacock Emporium(75)
Jessie put her hands on her hips. “Ten grand. That’s my best price.”
Suzanna gasped theatrically.
“I know—one does Arturro, one Liliane.”
“But you know them better than me.”
“So I’ve got more to lose.”
“She scares me. I don’t think she likes me as it is. Not since I started stocking those T-shirts. She thinks I’m stealing her market.”
“Why? What has she said?”
“It’s not what she’s said, it’s how she looks at them when she comes in.”
“Suzanna Peacock, you’re pathetic. You’re nearly ten years older than me and—”
“Eight, actually. I’m thirty-four. Only thirty-four.”
“Neil says you’ve been thirty-five for about ten years.”
Fear had made them hysterical. They clutched at each other, eyes wide, laughter giddy.
“Oh, I’ll go—I’ll go tomorrow, if you let me off early this afternoon. I need to take Emma to get some shoes. And I can’t do it later because I’ve got night school.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“You want me to talk to Arturro? Then you owe me, big-time.” Jessie began to write out price labels with a fuchsia-colored pen. “And only if he hasn’t cooled down and let them all back in anyway.”
* * *
—
But the next day Jessie didn’t come in. Suzanna was at home drying her hair when the telephone rang. “Sorry,” said Jessie, sounding unusually subdued. “You know I wouldn’t normally let you down, but I can’t make it today.”
“Is it Emma?” Suzanna’s mind was racing. She had meant to drive to Ipswich to meet a supplier. She would have to change her plans.
There was a pause.
“No, no. Emma’s fine.”
“What is it? A cold? There’s a weird summer one going round. Father Lenny said he felt odd yesterday. And that woman with the dogs.” If she rang the supplier now, she thought, she might be able to cancel without too many problems.
“You know what? I’m probably going to need a couple of days . . .”
Suddenly Suzanna switched her attention to the voice on the line. “Jess? Are you okay?”
There was a silence.
“Do you—do you need me to run you to the doctor?”
“I just need a couple of days. I promise I won’t let you down again.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s the matter? Are you ill?”
Another silence, then, “Don’t make a big deal, Suze, please.”
Suzanna sat, staring at her bedside table. She put the hair dryer down, and switched the receiver to the other ear. “Has he hurt you?” It came out as a whisper.
“It looks worse than it is. But it doesn’t look pretty. Not the right kind of look for the stylish shop assistant.” Jessie mustered a wry laugh.
“What did he do?”
“Oh, Suze, please leave it. Things just got a bit out of hand. He’s going to do anger management. He’s promised me this time.”
The little bedroom had grown chilly.
“You can’t keep doing this, Jess,” she murmured.
Jessie’s voice was hard. “I’m dealing with it, okay? Now, do me a favor, Suzanna, just leave it. If my mum drops by, tell her I’m out with a customer or something. I don’t want her going off.”
“Jess, I—”
The line went dead.
Suzanna sat on the side of her bed, gazing at the wall. Then she scraped her wet hair into a ponytail, ran downstairs for her keys, and headed the short distance into the center of Dere Hampton.
* * *
—
There were, as far as Suzanna could see, limited advantages to living in such a small town, but an undeniable one was that there were only so many places for people to be. She found Father Lenny in the tearooms, about to bite into a bacon sandwich. When he saw her he cowered jokingly, as if he’d been caught doing something treasonous. “I’ll be in for my normal coffee later,” he said, as she sat down opposite. “I promise. I just have to test out the opposition every now and then.”
Suzanna forced herself to smile, tried to look more relaxed than she felt. “Father Lenny, do you happen to know where Jessie lives?”
“She’s up on the Meadville estate. Near her mother. Why?”
Suzanna remembered Jessie’s warning. “Nothing important. She’s off with a cold. Thought I’d pop up there and take her some.” She smiled reassuringly.
Father Lenny’s eyes searched hers and, having presumably found the answers he required, looked down at his plate where his bacon sandwich lay. “Is it a bad cold?” he asked slowly.
“Hard to say. I think she’ll be needing a few days off, though.”
He nodded, as if digesting the information. “Would you be wanting any company?” he said carefully. “I’ve not a lot on this morning.”
“Oh, no,” said Suzanna. “I’m fine.”
“I’m happy to come. I’ll only stay five minutes if you’ve got . . . things to discuss.”
“That’s very kind, but you know what it’s like when someone’s sick. They don’t want to be disturbed.”