Lucky

Lucky

N OBODY IS GOING

to want this Users’ Guide to Microsoft Word 2007

. It’s heavy enough to make a doorstop. How can there be this much to Word? Perhaps I don’t know how to use it, after all.

It is the last item in a bag of donations from someone who was, I imagine, rather dull. There was a whole folder with clippings of news articles relating to a burst water main in Edgbaston in 1996, a set of VHS tapes on canals of the UK that totalled fifteen hours of content, and a book about the history of boules.

I pop a sticker for ￡1 on the guide and place it by the till, feeling very sorry for it.

‘I’m just not sure about this one,’ Marjie calls from behind the dressing-room curtain. ‘It feels a bit … much.’

‘There’s no such thing as a bit much

,’ Bella says as she riffles through the pile of clothing Marjie has brought from home.

‘Sam seems quite casual in his profile picture,’ Marjie says. There’s a lot of ruffling behind that curtain that would

suggest Marjie is putting on an incredibly difficult and complex ensemble.

She comes out from behind the curtain and she looks fantastic. Marjie’s usual long skirt and baggy cardy and pen tied around her neck with a green ribbon are gone and she’s wearing skinny jeans and a black top that flares out at the elbow and makes her look like a fantastic bat.

‘Yes,’ Bella says, simply.

Marjie turns to face the changing-room mirror and adjusts the top, moves the waistband of her jeans up.

‘I haven’t worn jeans in about thirty years,’ she says. She tilts her head, observing and studying herself. I can tell that she is pleased with what she sees, but she’s not willing to admit it yet.

‘What do you think?’ She turns to Bella, looking for confirmation that what she sees in the mirror is good.

‘Come on now, Marjie, I think we both know you look amazing,’ Bella says.

‘This Sam is a very lucky man,’ I tell her.

Marjie beams.

‘Oh,’ Bella says, rooting around in her bag, as she’s about to head back to work, ‘I have something to donate,’ and she pulls out a copy of a book in strawberries-and-cream colours.

‘Thank you,’ Marjie says. And she inspects the book further, turning it over. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen this one before,’ and then she laughs, ‘Oh look, Eddie, this author has the same name as you.’

‘Fancy that,’ I say, giving Bella a look.

‘I might give it a read,’ Marjie says.

Bella gives me a wink.