Bruce speared a piece of lobster meat. “Really?”
“Yes. I filled up on olive bread and Daddy asked for a banana.
Everything cost thirty-six dollars. Except for the banana, which was free.”
“There you are,” said Bruce. “Every cloud . . .”
Julia interrupted him. “Anyway, Brucie, what are you going to do, now that you’re back?”
Bruce, the lobster finished, pushed his plate to one side. “Well, I’m not going back to being a surveyor. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.
“Such as?”
Bruce sat back in his chair. “Personal training,” he said. “I think I’ll be a personal trainer.”
A shadow of disappointment crossed Julia’s face. She had not envisaged settling down with a personal trainer. “You mean one of those types you see in the gym?” she said. “The ones who hold their stopwatches and tell you how long to spend on the treadmill?”
It was clear to Bruce that she did not think much of his plan.
He would have to explain; Julia was a bit – how might one put it? – limited in her outlook, poor girl. Rich, but limited.
“Personal trainers do much more than that,” he said. “Getting people fit is one part of it, but there’s much more to it. Lifestyle advice, for example. Telling people how to dress, how to deal with anxiety, stress and all the rest. Sorting out relationships.
That sort of thing.”
Julia’s reservations evaporated. “Brilliant!” she said. “I’m sure that there’ll be a demand for that sort of thing. Lifestyle coach.
Style guru. That sort of thing.” She paused. “And personal shopper?”
Bruce looked doubtful. “I’ve heard of them. But I’m not sure what a personal shopper does.”
Julia knew. “They usually have them in big shops,” she said.
“If you go somewhere like Harrods or Harvey Nicks, they have these people who will get you what you need. You tell them your general requirements and they find it for you. But one could do it as a freelance. Then you could shop all over the place.”
“I don’t know if I could do that,” said Bruce. “I don’t know enough about shopping.”
128
“I do,” said Julia quickly. “I’ve done a lot of shopping.”
Bruce smiled. He had no doubt about that; Julia was certainly a shopper. Then a possibility came to him. He and Julia could enter into a . . .
“Partnership?” said Julia. “Do you think it would work, Brucie?
You do the personal thingy and I’ll do the personal shopping.
We can offer a complete service.”
Bruce nodded. “There are start-up costs,” he said. “There always are.”
Julia waved a hand dismissively. “How much?”
It was a fine calculation for Bruce. It was always difficult to decide just how much to ask for. The trick, he had read, was to try to put oneself in the shoes of the person with the funds and work out how much they would think reasonable. In this case, the start-up costs would be quite small – a few advertisements, a brochure, perhaps a press launch. But then there would be a salary for him, for, say, six months.
“Thirty thousand,” he said. “Give or take a couple of thousand.”
He watched her face. “Thirty thousand?” She hesitated. “All right. We’re in business.”
She looked down at her plate. I’m buying him for thirty thousand, she thought. But if that’s what it costs to get a husband, then that’s what it costs. And her father, she knew, would not quibble over a small sum like that. He had been hoping that she would settle down with a suitable man, and he would certainly approve of Bruce. Dear Daddy! He had said to her once, when she was twenty or so: “When you eventually decide to settle down with somebody, darling, don’t for God’s sake go for some dreadful spiv or intellectual. Go for good stock. You know what I mean by that? Do you? Do I have to spell it out to you?”
He would like Bruce, she knew it. And that would complete her happiness. A husband, a contented father, and before too long a couple of children. For that’s what her father had meant, and she had known it. Good breeding stock. And Bruce was definitely that. Just look at him.
She looked at Bruce and smiled. And as she did so, she thought: maybe I should just forget to be careful. It’s so easily done, particularly if you want to forget.
