Chapter 10 How scary can a few numbers be in the first part? -10

Martin reappears After lunch, my mother and I went to the handicraft market located in the local elementary school.I really just wanted to hang out with my mum and didn't intend to buy anything - but once I got there, I found a stall full of amazing handmade playing cards for £15 each! So, I bought 10 pairs.After all, you always need playing cards, don't you? There's also a stunning blue ceramic planter surrounded by baby elephants - I've been saying for a long time that there should be more plants in the apartment, so I also bought it.It only cost £15! There are always great bargains at a craft market, aren't there? Before you go you'd think they're selling rubbish - but you can always find something you're looking for.

Mom was really happy too, she found a pair of candlesticks as a collection.She collected candlesticks, toast stands, clay jugs, glass animals, lace embroidery samples and thimbles. (Personally, I don't think the thimble can be counted as strictly a collection, as she bought the whole set, including the cupboard, based on the ad on the back cover of the Mail on Sunday. But she never told anyone about it. In fact, I Nor should it be mentioned.) So anyway, we both felt pretty good about ourselves and decided to go for a cup of tea.Then, on our way out of the bazaar, we passed a stand that was deserted and deserted—the kind that people look at and walk away.The poor guy behind the stall looked really sad, so I stopped to take a look.No wonder no one stopped.All he sold were oddly shaped wooden bowls and matching wooden cutlery.What's the point of buying wooden tableware?

"It's pretty!" I said briskly, picking up a bowl. "It was handmade from apple wood," he said, "and it took a week to make." Oh, I think this week has been wasted, if you ask me.It was shapeless and ugly, and it was that ugly dark brown.But when I was about to put the bowl back he looked so upset I couldn't bear it so I turned the bowl over and looked at the price and figured if it was only £5 I'd buy it .However, it was listed at £80! I showed the price to my mum and she made a face. "That one-of-a-kind bowl was featured in EllE Home last month," the man said grimly, holding out a page cut out of the magazine.Hearing his words, I was stunned. EllE Home? Is he kidding?

He wasn't kidding.The coloring page before him was a photograph of a room containing nothing but a bean-shaped sheepskin handbag, a low table, and a wooden bowl.I stare at it in disbelief. "Is this the bowl?" I asked, trying not to sound too excited. "Is it really this bowl?" He nodded, and I held the bowl tightly.I can't believe this is real! I'm holding an item that was once featured in EllE Home.How cool is this! I suddenly feel impossibly chic and on-trend—wish I was wearing white linen trousers, with my hair neatly combed back like Jasmine Le Bon accordingly.

It shows that I have great taste.Didn't I just pick this bowl at a glance - sorry, this bowl? Didn't I see the difference? I can already see our living room being rearranged in a hazy abstraction centered around this bowl . £80.What is that money for such a timeless work of art? "I bought it," I said decisively, reaching into my bag and taking out the checkbook.I remind myself: buying a bargain is a waste of money.Instead of that, spend a little more on an item that you can enjoy for a lifetime.And this bowl is without a doubt a masterpiece.Suzie must be deeply shocked. When we got home, Mom went straight into the house while I stayed in the driveway, carefully moving the purchases from Mom's car to my own.

"Becky! What a surprise to meet you!" Oh God! It was our next-door neighbor, Martin Webster.He was leaning against the fence with a rake in his hand and a friendly big smile on his face.oh god.Martin always makes me feel guilty this way, and I don't know why. Actually, I know why.Because I knew he always wanted me to marry his son Tom when I grew up.But things backfired.My history with Tom goes like this: When we were both 16 years old, he asked me out once and I said no, I'm going out with Adam Moore.That's the end of our relationship, thank God it's over.To tell the truth, I'd rather marry Martin himself than Tom.

(That's not to say I really want to marry Martin, or that I like older men or anything. That's just an example. Anyway, Martin is a happily married man.) "Hi!" I said, a little too enthusiastically, "how are you?" "Oh, we're all right," Martin replied. "Did you hear about Tom buying the house?" "Yes," I said, "in Reigate. It's wonderful!" "There are two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, and an open kitchen," Martin enumerates. "The kitchen utensils are made of oak." "Wow," I said, "that's unbelievable!"

"Tom's so excited about it," Martin said, "Janice!" he called again, "Look who's here!" A moment later, Janice appeared on the front steps, her flowered apron still around her waist. "Becky!" she said, "almost out of recognition! How long has it been since?" Oh God, now I feel a little guilty for not coming back to see my parents more often. "Well," I said, smiling as nonchalantly as possible, "you know, I'm always busy at work. Everything is busy." "Oh, yes," Janice said, nodding in awe. "You have work to do."

Somehow, Janice and Martin agreed that I was one of those brilliant financial whiz.I keep trying to tell them that's not the case, that I'm not some financial whiz—but the more I deny it, the more they think I'm talented, like a "catch-22."So the result is, they now think I'm both talented and humble. However, who cares? It's also fun to pretend to be a financial wizard. "Yes, we are indeed very busy recently." I said calmly, "SBG and Rutland Bank have merged." "Of course." Janice whispered. "That reminds me," Martin said, "Becky, hold on to me. I'll be back in two seconds." Before I could say anything, he disappeared, leaving me embarrassed. To Janice.

"By the way," I said out of words, "I heard Tom's kitchen has matching oak cookware!" That's the only thing I can think of to say.I smiled at Janice, waiting for her answer.But she just smiled at me excitedly.Her face lit up with joy—and suddenly, I realized I had made a big mistake.I shouldn't have mentioned Tom's damn new house at all, let alone the oak kitchen.Now Janice would think I was craving those kitchen utensils, would she? She would think I had a sudden crush on Tom, who now had a new house of his own. "Oak kitchen and Mediterranean tiles," she replied proudly. "There are actually two stones to choose from, one is Mediterranean and the other is farmstead. Tom chose Mediterranean."

There was a moment when I wanted to say, if it were me, I'd rather be farm style.However, it seems a bit inappropriate to say so. "That's great!" I said, "and there are two bedrooms!" Why do I have to talk about the damn new house? Can't I change the subject? "He wanted two bedrooms," Janice said. "After all, you never knew, did you?" She smiled coyly at me.Out of nowhere, my face started to turn red.oh god.Why am I blushing? This is so stupid! Now she must think I'm interested in Tom.She was imagining the two of us in the apartment, cooking dinner together in the oak kitchen. I should say something.I'm supposed to say, "Ganice, I'm not interested in Tom. He's too tall and has bad breath." But how can I say that? "Say hi to him for me," I heard myself say instead. "Of course I would," she added after a pause. "Does he have your London number?" aha! "I suppose so," I lied, but smiled with mock amusement. "As long as he needs it, just come to me." Now everything I say seems to have a double meaning.I can just imagine how this conversation would reach Tom: "She's been asking about your apartment and asking you to call her!" Life would be so much easier if conversations could be rewinded or erased like a video! Or if you could order someone to ignore what you just said, like a court.Please delete all conversations about the apartment and the oak kitchen appliances in the records. Fortunately, at this moment, Martin reappeared with a piece of paper in his hand. "Could you take a look at this?" he said. "We've been participating in this dividend-style investment with Flagstaff Insurance for 15 years. Now we're going to move the money into another of their new investment programs. You How do you feel?" I don't know what the hell he's talking about, some kind of savings plan? I glance at the paper, hoping to look like I know it all, and nod. "Yes," I said vaguely, "I think that would be a very good idea." “The company wrote to us and said we might want a higher return in retirement,” Martin said. “They also offered a certain amount of insurance.” "And they're giving us a portable clock," interjected Janice. "Swiss made." "Hmm..." I concentrated on studying the company name on the letter.