Love & Other Scams by PJ Ellis

Author:PJ Ellis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2023-02-18T22:39:35+00:00

18

Clouds have gathered outside, but the afternoon is still warm so they carry on walking, talking about the job, and the diamond, but also nothing in particular, easy in each other’s company. They stroll down the Mall, swept up in the tide of tourists, and pause perfunctorily at Buckingham Palace, remarking aloud, as is tradition, ‘I wonder if they’re home,’ before wandering into Green Park and up to Piccadilly.

It is the kind of Sunday in the city that Cat used to always daydream she would have before she moved here. But then, to save things from becoming more idyllic than she would know what to do with, the leaden sky cracks open like an egg and within seconds, torrential rain is rebounding off the pavement.

Jake pulls Cat into the doorway of a nearby gift shop for shelter from the sudden downpour, and they simply stand there at first, half-laughing at how quickly they have become drenched, before venturing inside. It is the kind of establishment that pops up every few yards in Central London, like recycled background scenery in a Scooby-Doo cartoon, that caters exclusively to tat-seeking tourists and always smells vaguely like liquorice.

‘Well, hi there,’ comes a familiar voice. It’s Harper, arms laden with keyrings, tea cosies, and miniature teddy bears dressed as Beefeaters. Spotting their confused looks, she glances down at her haul and says, by way of explanation: ‘I have a nephew.’

‘How old?’ asks Jake, and Harper eagerly tells them that he is three.

‘Isn’t three a little bit young for a keyring?’ Cat asks. Admittedly, she doesn’t know a great deal about children, but she is certain that if a toddler has the means of letting himself in and out of the house, somebody should probably be called.

‘Oh, no, that is for my roommate back in Berkeley,’ Harper says. ‘Isn’t it amazing? And by amazing, I of course mean …’ she lowers her voice, so as not to offend the establishment’s proprietor, ‘… the ugliest little tchotchke you’ve ever seen?’

Cat laughs and agrees that the enamel fob, crudely printed with a dubious, cross-eyed likeness of Princess Diana, is in questionable taste at best.

‘We have this ongoing competition,’ Harper explains, ‘to see who can bring back the tackiest gift from a trip. Last year, she came back from New Orleans and burdened me with a sculpture of a woman flashing her boobs for Mardi Gras beads. It’s spectacular. I keep her on my nightstand. It’s basically a full-blown gift war at this point.’

‘I think it’s a war you have a fair chance of winning,’ Jake says, gesturing at the commemorative Charles and Camilla tea towels currently draped over her shoulder. Harper beams.

‘I think so too,’ she says, proudly. Then, as though it’s just occurring to her: ‘Hey! Why don’t I go pay for these, and then buy you both a drink?’

Cat is tempted to say yes. She likes Harper, who is a damn sight more fun than the rest of Louisa’s posh milieu. But it seems prudent to limit socialising to official wedding-related activities.

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