Just the Thing

The upmarket jeweller on Union Bridge was close-carpeted, its walls lined with warm wood panelling. Into this were set a row of brightly illuminated display cases. They sparkled against their contrasting setting. Like those whopping diamonds in the window, Ros thought, as she sat alongside Nic at the high counter, a sober-suited sales assistant seated opposite.

‘I’ve been neglecting you,’ her husband had announced that Saturday morning. ‘A treat, that’s what you need. Put on your glad rags. We’re going into town.’

‘But, the baby…’ she countered. ‘He needs changed, and then…’

‘Forget about Max.’ Smug smile. ‘Fiona’s going to hold the fort.’

‘What about breakfast?’

‘Skip it. She knows the ropes. We can grab something in town. Go on.’ He gave her a playful push. ‘She’ll be here in ten minutes.’

Excited, Ros ran upstairs, exchanged her baggy T-shirt for a Zara blouse, squeezed into her best jeans. She rummaged in the bottom of the wardrobe for a pair of high-heeled boots, slapped tinted moisturiser on her face, added two coats of mascara and a slick of lip gloss, ran a comb through her hair.

She’d protested when they stood outside. The over-sized watch that marked the establishment proclaimed ROLEX. Way too expensive for a university lecturer, she thought with a sinking heart. In the tiled arcade, she recognised more prestigious names: Omega, Longines. Zenith, the preserve of sports stars and glossy magazines. Revolving platforms displayed rings set with diamonds, emeralds, aquamarines. Swathes of coloured silk set off lustrous pearl ropes. Pendants and earrings dangled from miniature stands. Like Christmas come all at once, she couldn’t help thinking. Even the vertical blinds that backed the displays gave the impression that these treasures were within reach.

For a few minutes they’d stood, faces pressed against the glass. Then: ‘This is way beyond our budget, Nic,’ she said. ‘I’d be just as happy in John Lewis.’

He put a finger to her lips. ‘Shush. For my girl it’s nothing but the best.’

‘But…’

‘Look there,’ he said, pointing downwards. Her eyes followed. Sure enough, displays at a lower level offered a range of modern jewellery in silver and semi-precious stones. Necklets, rings and cuffs gleamed against black or purple pads.

Ros squinted against the light, trying to establish prices.

‘Come on,’ Nic tugged at her arm. ‘We haven’t got all day.’

Now, she sat on an ivory leather stool, butterflies pinging their way around an empty stomach. On the console table, a swivel mirror threatened. Determinedly, Ros avoided catching her reflection.

Nic took the lead. ‘I’m looking for a gift for my wife.’

‘To mark a special occasion?’ the salesman enquired. ‘A birthday, perhaps? An anniversary?’

‘Neither.’ Nic smiled. He turned to Ros. ‘To say thanks for putting up with me.’

She felt a glow of happiness. Beamed at both Nic and the salesman.

‘Do you have a budget, may I ask?’

‘Nothing too expensive,’ Ros came back quickly. ‘It’s only a token, after all.’

‘Did you have anything in mind?’

‘Not really,’ she answered. ‘Something in silver, maybe. A ring would be nice.’ Or perhaps not. She glanced down at her hands. Time was, her nails would have been manicured and polished, now they were ragged and stripped of varnish. ‘Or earrings,’ she added hastily. ‘I saw a pair in the window that…’

‘Something more substantial,’ Nic cut her short. ‘A necklace. Or a bracelet – one of those cuff things.’

‘But…’ Ros squirmed uncomfortably on the high stool. She felt conspicuous, sitting just inside the entrance in full view of the arcade, wished they’d opted for one of the display tables at the rear. She turned to her husband. ‘Don’t you think…?’ A wash of colour crept up her neck as she tried to frame a face-saving excuse. Nic knew full well they couldn’t afford to be buying expensive jewellery, not when they were supposed to be saving for a house.

‘No arguments.’ He clasped both her hands in his. ‘Remember what I said.’ He threw the salesman a conspiratorial smile. ‘Nothing but the best for my girl.’

‘If you’ll give me a few moments…’ The man rose, his face a study in discretion. ‘I’m sure we’ll have just the thing.’