Sam, of course, has noticed nothing.
“Will we see you both later?” Martha clearly makes a supreme effort to recover herself as she ushers us to the door. “We’ll have champagne waiting and we’ll take a photo for your album, of course.” A tiny glow comes back into her eyes. “It’s such a special moment when you first take the ring and slide it onto her finger—”
“No, I’ve spent far too long here already,” says Sam, absently glancing at his watch. “Can’t you just bike it round to Poppy?”
This seems to be the last straw for Martha. When I’ve given her my details and as we’re walking out, she suddenly exclaims, “Could I have a little word about care and upkeep, madam? Just very quickly?” She grabs my arm and pulls me back into the shop, her grip surprisingly strong. “In seven years of selling engagement rings, I’ve never done this before,” she whispers urgently into my ear. “I know he’s a friend of Mark. And I know he’s very handsome. But … are you sure ?”
As I eventually emerge onto the street, Sam is waiting for me, looking impatient.
“What was that about? Everything OK?”
“Yes! All fine!”
My face is scarlet and I just want to get out of here. As I glance back toward the shop, I can see Martha talking animatedly to the other girls in dove gray and gesticulating out the window toward Sam, a look of outrage on her face.
“What’s going on?” Sam frowns. “She didn’t try to sell you the expensive ring, did she? Because I’ll have a word with Mark—”
“No! Nothing like that.” I hesitate, almost too embarrassed to tell him.
“Then what?” Sam peers at me.
“She thought you were my fiancé and you were making me buy my own engagement ring,” I admit at last. “She told me not to marry you. She was very worried for me.”
I won’t go into Martha’s theory about generosity in the jewelry shop and generosity in bed and how they relate.54
I can see the light slowly dawning on Sam’s face.
“Oh, that’s funny.” He bursts into laughter. “That’s very funny. Hey.” He hesitates. “You didn’t want me to pay for it, did you?”
“No, of course not!” I say, shocked. “Don’t be ridiculous! I just feel terrible that the whole shop thinks you’re a cheapskate, when you were actually doing me a massive favor. I’m really sorry.” I wince.
Sam looks baffled. “What does that matter? I don’t care what they think of me.”
“You must care a bit. ”
“Not one bit.”
I peer at him closely. His face is calm. I think he means it. He doesn’t care. How can you not care?
Magnus would care. He always flirts with shop assistants and tries to work out if they recognize him from TV. And one time, when his card was declined in our local supermarket, he made a point of going back in there the next day and telling them about how his bank completely cocked up the day before.
Oh well. Now I don’t feel quite so bad.
“I’m going to grab a Starbucks.” Sam starts heading off down the street. “Want one?”
“I’ll get them.” I hurry after him. “I owe you one. Big-time.”
I don’t have to be back at the clinic till after lunch, because I got Annalise to swap her morning off with mine. For a hefty bribe.
“You remember I mentioned a man called Sir Nicholas Murray,” Sam says as he swings the coffee shop door open. “He’s sending over a document. I’ve told him to use my own email address, but if by any chance he sends it your way by mistake, please let me know at once. ”
“OK. He’s quite famous, isn’t he?” I can’t resist adding. “Wasn’t he number eighteen in the world’s movers and shakers in 1985?”
I did some Googling last night, and I’m totally on top of the whole subject of Sam’s company. I know everything. I could go on Mastermind. I could do a PowerPoint presentation. In fact, I wish someone would ask me to do one! Facts I know about White Globe Consulting, in no particular order:
1. It was started in 1982 by Nicholas Murray and now it’s been bought out by some big multinational group.
2. Sir Nicholas is still the CEO. Apparently he can smooth a meeting’s atmosphere by just arriving and can stop a deal in its tracks with a single shake of the head. He always wears floral shirts. It’s his thing.
3. The finance director was a protégé of Sir Nicholas, but he’s recently left the company. His name is Ed Exton.55
4. Ed and Sir Nicholas’s friendship has disintegrated over the years, and Ed didn’t even attend the party when Sir Nicholas was knighted.56