'It's not just the curry!' I sob, wiping my eyes. 'The point was, I was supposed to be Cutting Back. This curry was only supposed to cost ?2.50.'
'But… why?' asks Suze perplexedly. 'Was it a bet, or something?'
'No!' I wail. 'It was because I'm in debt! And my dad said I should Cut Back or Make More Money. So I've been trying to Cut Back, but it hasn't worked…' I break off, shuddering with sobs. 'I'm just a complete failure.'
'Of course you're not a failure!' says Suze at once. 'Bex, you're the opposite of a failure. It's just…' She hesitates. 'It's just that maybe…'
'What?'
There's silence, then Suze says seriously, 'I think you might have chosen the wrong option, Becky. I don't think you're a Cut Back kind of person.'
'Really?' I sniff, and wipe my eyes. 'Do you think?' 'I think you should go for Make More Money instead.' Suze pauses thoughtfully. 'In fact, to be honest, I don't know why anyone would choose Cut Back. I think Make More Money is a much better option. If I ever had to choose, that's definitely the one I'd go for.'
'Yes,', I say slowly. 'Yes, maybe you're right. Maybe that's what I should do.' I reach down with a shaky hand and take a bite of warm naan bread – and Suze is right. Without the curry, it's delicious. 'But how shall I do it?' I say eventually. 'How shall I make more money?'
There is silence for a while, with both of us thoughtfully chewing on naan bread. Then Suze brightens.
'I know. Look at this!' She reaches for a magazine and flips to the classified ads at the back. 'Look what it says here. "Need extra money? Join the Fine Frames family. Make thousands, working from home in your spare time. Full kit supplied." You see? It's easy.'
Wow. I'm quite impressed, in spite of myself. Thousands. That's not bad.
'Yes,' I say shakily. 'Maybe I'll do that.'
'Or you could invent something,' says Suze.
'Like what?'
'Oh, anything,' she says confidently. 'You're really clever. You could think of something. Or… I know! Set up an Internet company. They're worth millions!'
You know, she's right. There's loads of things I could do to Make More Money. Loads of things! It's just a question of lateral thinking. Suddenly I feel a lot better. God, Suze is a good friend. I reach forward and give her a hug.
'Thanks, Suze,' I say. 'You're a star.'
'No problem,' she says, and hugs me back. 'So, you cut out this ad and start making your thousands…' She pauses. 'And I'll go and phone up for a takeaway curry, shall I?'
'Yes please,' I say in a small voice. 'A takeaway would be lovely.'
REBECCA BLOOMWOOD'S CUT-BACK PROJECT
HOME-MADE CURRY, SATURDAY ii MARCH
PROPOSED BUDGET: ?2.50
ACTUAL EXPENDITURE:
Balti pan ?15.00
Electric grinder ?14.99
Blender ?18.99
Wooden spoon 35p
Apron ?9.99
Two chicken breasts ?1.98
300g mushrooms 79p
Onion 29p
Coriander seeds ?1.29
Fennel seeds ?1.29
Allspice ?1.29
Cumin seeds ?1.29
Cloves ?1.39
Ground ginger ?1.95
Bay leaves ?1.40
Chilli powder
OH GOD, FORGET IT.
7 Camel Square
Liverpool L1 5NP
Ms Rebecca Bloomwood
Flat 2
4 Burney Rd
London SW6 8FD
10 March 2000
Dear Ms Bloomwood
PGNI First Bank VISA Card No. 1475839204847586 Thank you for your letter of 3 March.
I can assure you that our computers are regularly checked, and that the possibility of a 'glitch', as you put it, is remote. Nor have we been affected by the Millennium bug. All accounts are entirely accurate.
You may write to Anne Robinson at Watchdog if you wish, but I am sure she will agree that you have no grounds for complaint.
Our records inform us that payment on your VISA account is now overdue. As you will see from your most recent VISA card statement, the minimum payment required is ?105.40. I look forward to receiving your payment, as soon as possible.
Yours sincerely
Peter Johnson
Customer Accounts Executive
Eight
OK, so perhaps the Cutting Back didn't go that well. But it doesn't matter, because that's all in the past. That was negative thinking – now I'm seriously into positive thinking. Onward and upward. Growth and prosperity. M. M. M. It's the obvious solution, when you think about it. And you know what? Suze is absolutely right. Making More Money suits my personality far better than Cutting Back did. In fact, I'm already feeling much happier. Just the fact that I don't have to make any more grotty cheese sandwiches, or go to any more museums, has lifted a huge weight off my soul. And I'm allowed to buy all the cappuccinos I like, and start looking in shop windows again. Oh, the relief! I've even chucked Controlling Your Cash in the bin. I never did think it was any good.
The only small, thing – tiny niggle – is I'm not quite sure how I'm going to do it. Make More Money, I mean. But now I've decided to go ahead with it, something will turn up. I'm sure of it.
When I get into work on Monday, Clare Edwards is already at her desk – surprise – and on the phone.
'Yes,' she's saying softly. 'I suppose the only answer is to plan ahead. Yes.'
When she sees me, to my surprise she blushes a faint pink and turns away slightly. 'Yes, I understand,' she whispers, scribbling in her notepad. 'And how has… response been so far?'
God knows why she's being so secretive. As if I'm interested in her tedious life. I sit down at my desk, briskly flip on my computer and open my diary. Oh goody, I've got a press conference in the City. Even if it is some boring old pensions launch, at least it means a trip out of the office and, with any luck, a nice glass of champagne. Work can be quite fun, sometimes. And Philip isn't in yet, which means we can sit and gossip for a while.
'So, Clare,' I say, as she puts the phone down, 'how was your weekend?'
I look over, expecting to hear the usual thrilling account of what shelf she put up where with her boyfriend – but Clare doesn't even seem to have heard what I said.
'Clare?' I say, puzzled. She's staring at me with pink cheeks, as though I've caught her stealing pens from the stationery cupboard.
'Listen,' she says in a rush. 'That conversation you heard me having just now… could you not mention it to Philip?'
I stare at her in bemusement. What's she talking about? Oh wow – is she having an affair? But then, why should Philip care? He's her editor, not herOh my God. She's not having an affair with Philip, is she?
'Clare, what's going on!' I say excitedly.
There's a long pause, as Clare blushes deep red. I can't believe this. A piece of office scandal at last! And involving Clare Edwards, of all people!
'Oh come on, Clare,' I whisper. 'You can tell me. I won't tell anyone.' I lean forward sympathetically. 'I might even be able to help.'
'Yes,' says Clare, rubbing her face. 'Yes, that's true. I could do with a bit of advice. The pressure's starting to get to me.'
'Start from the beginning,' I say calmly, just like an agony aunt. 'When did it all begin?'
'OK, I'll tell you,' whispers Clare, and looks nervously about. 'It was about… six months ago.'
'And what happened?'
'It all began on that Scottish press trip,' she says slowly. 'I was away from home… I said yes without even thinking. I suppose I was flattered, more than anything else.'
'It's the old story,' I say wisely. God, I'm enjoying this.