The Shoestring Club

by Sarah Webb

  My ears prick up. ‘Did you say loyalty cards?’

  He shrugs. ‘Yeah, why?’

  ‘Do you still run their database?’

  ‘No, but if something’s on a computer, I can find it, Jules, you know that. Not that I would of course,’ he adds for Arietty’s benefit.

  I stare at him. ‘Jamie Clear, I think our prayers have been answered. And don’t worry, it’s nothing illegal. I’m not after bank details or medical info or whether they have a criminal record.’ I pause. ‘Although . . .’

  Jamie winces. ‘No way, José. Hacking into police files? Are you trying to get me put away?’

  I smile. ‘OK, we’ll stick to loyalty cards. Pulling information off those isn’t illegal is it?’

  ‘It’s a bit of a grey area to be honest.’ He still looks a bit uneasy.

  ‘I’m just looking for mobile numbers, Jamie. Or email addresses. Of single men between the ages of say twenty-five and thirty-five who live in the area. Once I have them, I just have to work out what to do with them.’

  There’s a rap on the window and all three of us jump. It’s Dad. He gestures at Jamie to go inside.

  Jamie salutes him. ‘Better run, ladies. Duty calls.’

  ‘Will you help us?’ I ask him, my hands pressed together. ‘Please?’

  He sighs. ‘It’s a big ask. But OK, you’re on. But you have to keep where you got their details to yourself. Blame one of the supermarkets or something.’

  I punch the air. ‘Yes!’

  Once Jamie’s disappeared inside, I grab Arietty’s arm and make her do a little Irish jig with me singing, ‘Faith Farenze here we come, diddly, diddly, diddly, do,’ over and over again before we both collapse on the pavement, breathless with giggles.

  ‘You’re crazy, woman,’ Arietty says, still grinning from ear to ear. ‘Luckily, I like mad people.’

  ‘Takes one to know one I guess.’ I smile back at her, realizing I haven’t once thought about Ed since she arrived. ‘And thanks for coming over this morning, Arietty. You must have better things to do on a Sunday.’

  She shrugs. ‘No. Not really.’

  Our eyes meet and I see a sadness in them. She looks away.

  ‘Broke up with someone recently,’ she says, blowing the air out of her mouth. ‘We used to spend every Sunday together. Never get involved with a reptile guy, Jules. They’re as cold blooded as the snakes they’re so obsessed with.’

  ‘And my best friend is marrying my ex and I think I still have feelings for him,’ I say in a rush, surprising myself. It’s not something I’ve admitted to anyone, even Pandora. But unlike Pandora, I don’t think Arietty will make me analyse my emotions, or tell me I’m wrong to feel this way, so it feels safe to say it out loud. ‘That’s why I want the dress,’ I continue. ‘To wear at the wedding. To show everyone I’m completely over him. And to get some sort of closure.’

  She nods sagely. ‘Hard, isn’t it? They get under your skin, then bang, everything changes. And getting over them is a killer.’

  ‘No kidding.’

  ‘Stupid feckers,’ she adds.

  I laugh. ‘Too right.’ I pull a piece of gooey paper out of the bucket and slap it onto my elephant’s rear. ‘That’s what I think of Ed bloody Powers.’

  She cocks her head. ‘That’s his name?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Stupid name. Ed.’

  I chuckle. ‘And yours?’

  ‘Howie Dixon.’

  ‘That’s even worse.’

  ‘I know. And this is for you, Howie.’ She whips a piece onto her elephant’s behind, her eyes sparkling.

  ‘Let’s cover their asses in paper and then knock off for chocolate cake, yes?’ she suggests.

  I grin. ‘You’re a girl after my own bruised heart, Arietty Pilgrim.’

  Chapter 15

  Jamie is as good as his word. On Tuesday morning he arrives at Shoestring with a sheaf of paper in his hand and, after looking around him surreptitiously, hands it to me at the till. He needn’t have bothered, the place is deathly quiet. The shop looks amazing after the refit – the pops of colour add a freshness to the floor, and the wafting voile curtains and the elephants flanking the doorway should be enticing new customers in, but unfortunately none of our hard work seems to have made any difference to footfall. Even the café’s quiet.

  I look at the top sheet, a spreadsheet, the cells filled with men’s names, dates of birth, email addresses, snail mail addresses, and marital status. I run my eye down the list – he’s pulled out the single ones and put an asterix beside the ones that live locally. Result!

  I give him a huge grin. ‘You’re amazing, Jamie. This is perfect. Don’t suppose any of them supplied photos?’

  He smiles back. ‘You could always send Arietty off to doorstep them. She seems pretty shameless.’

  I say nothing for a second, considering this.

  Jamie shifts his weight from foot to foot. ‘I’m kidding. Promise me there’ll be no stalking.’

  ‘’Course not. It would take far too long. I hadn’t realized there’d be so many of them.’

  ‘Jules, half of the men on those sheets probably have a girlfriend. And the other half could be axe murderers for all you know. The only thing they all have in common is fish.’

  I bite the inside of my lip. He has a point. And suddenly I remember what Arietty said about that reptile keeper in the zoo, Howie. I’m sure fish lovers are just as cold blooded. Why couldn’t Jamie have worked for a pet shop? That’s what we need. Nice, normal, outdoorsy men with Labradors.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. Can you find me dog owners instead? In fact, if you could narrow it down by breed—’

  ‘Jules! What do you want me to do? Hack into every loyalty card database out there?’

  I tilt my head. ‘Could you?’

  ‘No! It would take for ever. You’re a desperate one for changing your mind. Look, you’re going about this all the wrong way. First you need to know exactly what you’re looking for. The parameters. That way you can narrow down your search.’

  I ponder this for a moment, then nod. ‘Makes sense.’

  ‘And what are you going to do with all these eligible men once you’ve found them?’

  I grimace. ‘I’m not sure to be honest. But basically I want to get them all together in one place, maybe with a karaoke machine; then introduce them to Pandora and hope some misguided fool bites. Some kind of party I guess.’

  ‘As long as there’s free food and beer, you won’t have a problem getting them in the door. What about a barbeque?’

  My nose wrinkles automatically. ‘Not Pandora’s kind of thing. And where would we have it? In the shop?’

  He shrugs. ‘Sure. Why not? Move the chairs and tables back in the café and you’d have plenty of floor space. I was in the park last weekend and they had a games day – giant Snakes and Ladders and Twister, things like that – it was for kids, but I would have loved to join in. Maybe you could have a Shoestring games night for big kids – what about all those great 80s games? – Pac-Man, Tetris, Space Invaders, Stretch Armstrong competitions, Rubik’s Cube speed trials – I’d go. And yes, a karaoke machine if you must.’

  I sigh theatrically. ‘Jamie Clear, at times you are deranged—’

  ‘Hey!’ he protests.

  I put up my hand. ‘Whoa there, I haven’t finished. Other times you are truly inspired.’ I beam at him. ‘I can honestly say I would never, ever, have thought of a games night for kidadults, but throw in a karaoke machine and plenty of drink and it might just work.’ I rub my head on his shoulder and make happy cat noises. ‘Mew, mew, mew.’ He laughs heartily and tries to push me away.

  ‘There you are, darling.’ Bird catches me and I quickly straighten up. ‘And the lovely Jamie.’ She smiles beatifically at him. ‘I’m so delighted you two are getting on so well. I can’t tell you how much it means—’

  I cut her off mid-flow. ‘Jamie had a great idea for a shop event, Bird. Once the book festival’s over
and Pandora’s not so stressed, I’ll run it by her.’

  ‘Probably best to wait all right. I think she was expecting a big uplift in sales on account of the refit over the weekend, but it’s quieter than ever. Let’s hope it picks up.’ She flashes me a smile, but I can see the anxiety behind her eyes. She flicks her hand in front of her face, as if swatting away a fly.

  ‘But anyway,’ she adds, ‘an event sounds lovely. And maybe you and Jamie could work on it together. You really do make such a wonderful team.’ Her eyebrows lift. ‘Should Daphne and I start looking for hats?’

  Jamie’s cheeks flare. He’s clearly mortified at the very idea.

  I glare at her. ‘Don’t you have work to do?’

  She laughs and waves her fingers at us. ‘Toodle pip, lovebirds.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ I say as soon as she’s pottered off.

  ‘She doesn’t mean any harm.’ He pauses for a minute, looking at me, an expression I can’t read on his face. I think he’s about to add something else, but then he stops. I know his own mum is bad, but she’s nowhere near as direct as Bird. It’s clearly bothering him more than I thought.

  ‘You OK?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah, yeah. Look, I have to talk to Pandora about some images for the website, but email me exactly what you’re looking for, men-wise, and I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘I think she’s in the office, doing the accounts. And thank you, thank you, thank you.’

  I throw my arms around him, and kiss him on the cheek. ‘You rock, Jamie Clear, you know that?’

  His face zings red again and his eyes lower. I draw away. Maybe that was a little too much. I don’t want to scare him off with over-zealous hugs, not when things are back on track.

  ‘Catch you later, Jules,’ he says, walking towards the staffroom, a smile flickering on his lips.

  I work on my list of man musts all afternoon, adding things and then changing my mind and crossing them out. This is my list so far:

  A Man for Pandora

  Must be single

  Must be between 25 and 38

  Thirty-eight sounds ancient to me, but Pandora’s always liked older men. I suspect her Parisian fling was with one of her French fashion lecturers. Pandora has never revealed his identity, even to Dad or Bird. Iris’s skin is olive, Pandora’s is creamy white, so it would make sense that Iris is half French. Personally I think Iris has a right to know who her father is, but there’s no talking to Pandora sometimes.

  Must have a job

  Must have some interest in music – boring classical stuff if possible

  Must like going to the cinema or watching films

  Pandora spends any free time she has flopped on the sofa in front of the latest DVDs – she loves movies and boxed sets.

  Must be an animal lover

  I add this more for Iris’s benefit than Pandora’s. Besides, everyone knows guys who like animals can’t be all bad. Then I think about Arietty. She LOVES animals, and she’s more than a bit odd, so I cross this out. Then I change my mind and add it back in. Arietty may be odd, but she seems to have a good heart. Besides, in this case, odd is good – you’d have to be a bit left of centre to fall for Pandora. Then I think, I’m being too fussy, and strike it out again.

  Must live in south county Dublin

  This one I leave in. Pandora loves the area, says she never wants to move. And with Shoestring and Iris’s school and everything, a boyfriend in Meath or even Howth might prove difficult in the long term.

  And these are just the deal breakers. I cross off the remaining items on the list – smart dresser, Church of Ireland, likes kids, into healthy eating, keen on hill walking – because a.) they’re desirable but less important, b.) they may be hard to unearth, even for Jamie, and c.) there’s a good chance the list will have no one on it if I include the finer details.

  But it does make me realize (a little smugly I admit) how well I know Pandora when it comes to her romantic needs, and then it also occurs to me that she clearly isn’t as self-aware. Take Gav for example, her last boyfriend. He lasted all of two months. Worked part-time delivering pizzas while he worked on his music – navel-gazing singer/songwriter stuff that was so depressing I’m not surprised nobody wanted to listen to it, let alone sign him. He also had a charming habit of ignoring Iris’s existence, insisting he and Pandora did things together, just the two of them. In the end he had the cheek to dump my sister – who was way too good for him in the first place – saying she wasn’t ‘cool’ enough for him. Pandora was distraught.

  I email my edited list to Jamie and cross my fingers. I’d really like to find someone decent for Pandora, and yes, the dress is part of it, but not all. She deserves to meet someone decent for a change, and Iris deserves a kind stepdad who could take her to the zoo when Pandora’s working.

  Pandora’s a bit of a workaholic, but if she had someone to drag her away from the shop at weekends and in the evenings, she might not be so devoted to Shoestring. At the moment it’s almost as if she and the shop are umbilically joined, and it’s not healthy.

  I’ve just started tagging some new stock, when I hear someone marching towards the cash desk, their heels clicking on the wooden floorboards. I lift my head and my stomach instantly tightens. It’s Lainey and, from the scowl on her face, it looks like she’s on the warpath. I’m not exactly thrilled to see her either. I fold my arms across my chest and wait for her to halt in front of the desk, my heart hammering. Just before she reaches me, Ed’s candlelit face flashes in front of my eyes and I can feel my cheeks blush guiltily.

  ‘I want to talk to you,’ she says without preamble. She’s wearing a neat black suit that I know must have cost a fortune, but with sensible mid-heel courts and a fitted white shirt underneath, it says nothing about who she is. Even an interesting necklace or a funky belt would have livened it up a bit.

  ‘Stop judging my clothes,’ she snaps perceptively. ‘I’ve just come from work. I couldn’t concentrate this morning and it’s all your fault.’

  ‘My fault? Why is it my fault?’

  She pokes me in the upper chest with a finger. ‘Where exactly was Ed on Friday night?’

  Blood pumps into my face, much as I try to stop it. I slap her hand away.

  ‘How would I know?’ I splutter.

  ‘Tony spotted him on Sorrento Road.’

  ‘Tony who?’

  ‘You know, Tony Kenny. Chloe’s boyfriend. Apparently Ed walked into Sorrento Grove at about eight fifty.’

  ‘Thought he was a teacher, not a private investigator,’ I say, stalling for time. From the dark expression on her face, Ed has certainly confessed to something.

  ‘Ed went in your gates. Tony said he waited for a few minutes opposite the house but there was no sign of him coming back out. So admit it, he was in your house.’

  ‘So you were having him followed.’

  ‘No! Ed was supposed to be meeting Tony and some other friends for drinks in Finnegan’s. Tony lives in Dalkey, he was walking towards the village and he thought they could walk down together. It was a coincidence. I want to know what happened. I have a right. He’s my fiancé.’

  I give a hollow laugh. ‘Lainey, I owe you exactly nothing. And if you want to know what Ed was up to while you were at your precious hen party, why don’t you ask him.’

  ‘I did. He said he was sitting in Finnegan’s waiting for the lads when he had a sudden pang of guilt and decided to check how you were getting on. He said he was only at your place for about ten minutes, then went to the pub. But Tony says he never appeared in Finnegan’s. They rang him a couple of times but his phone was off. So I’m asking you again, what happened?’

  I stand there, staring at her. Does she honestly expect me to fill in the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle?

  ‘And again I’m telling you to ask your bloody fiancé.’ I’m so angry with Lainey at this stage I could spit. How dare she rub all this fiancé business in my face. Does she have any idea how much it hurts? ‘You know somethi
ng? Yes, he was with me on Friday night,’ I continue, enraged and suddenly wanting to hurt her back. ‘And that’s all I have to say on the matter. You have some nerve coming here, grilling me like this. It’s not my fault Ed won’t tell you the truth.’

  ‘The truth?’ Her face pales. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m not saying another word.’

  She grabs my arm.

  ‘Tell me,’ she practically shrieks. ‘You slept with him, didn’t you?’

  I shake off her hand. ‘Lower your voice. Our customers are not interested in your amateur dramatics.’ I come out from behind the till and walk quickly outside. Lainey follows me. I take a few steps away from the front door and swing around. ‘And frankly, Lainey, that’s none of your goddamn business.’

  Her face crumples like a ball of tin foil, her eyes filling with angry tears. ‘You bitch! You’re disgusting. I bet you lured him to your house, filled him full of drink, and then threw yourself at him.’

  I give a wry laugh. Now she’s gone too far. ‘Excuse me, Lainey high horse Anderson, Ed appeared at my place, not the other way around. With a bottle of vodka, a carton of cranberry juice and plastic cups I may add. It was clearly premeditated and I was pretty shocked to see him. And everything that happened after that is between me and Ed. But he sure as hell wasn’t feeling guilty by the end of the evening. In fact I believe he rather enjoyed himself.’

  Lainey’s hand shoots up and slaps me across the face. Then she instantly bursts into tears.

  ‘Jesus, Lainey. That hurt.’ I rub my stinging cheek. I look at her. She’s a mess, her carefully applied mascara streaming down her face, her nose running. I start to feel a little sorry for her. She’s never been good under stress and even I know weddings are hell to organize. I soften a little.