Ruby woke early and listened for movement in the spare room.
Nothing. She got dressed, took the wooden support from the hall and tried it behind three bowls on the table. It tilted them just enough. From the doorway she could see the pale insides, the different glazes, the red line she'd thought would be wasted on the stall.
She removed them again before Mae got up.
Jonah had sent one message the previous evening.
Sorry you got that on your doorstep. If you'd like to talk, I'm at the workshop tomorrow.
She'd read it four times. He hadn't asked whether she still wanted to come at six. She hadn't answered.
Mae emerged in a long striped shirt and a pair of Ruby's socks. She looked small without yesterday's earrings, her hair flattened on one side.
‘You're stealing those,’ Ruby said.
Mae looked down. ‘I thought these were mine.’
‘You think all the good socks are yours.’
‘I have excellent taste.’
It felt almost normal. Ruby wanted to keep it there. She reached for her shoes, though she wasn't going anywhere yet, and Mae sat on the floor opposite her.
They had done this for years. While one of them got ready, the other sat where she could see her face. Mae used to do it in Ruby's tiny student room, when there wasn't space for another chair. Ruby had done it in Mae's old flat while Mae tried on outfits for jobs she pretended not to care about.
‘Have you still got what he posted?’ Ruby asked.
Mae nodded. ‘I can show you.’
She fetched her phone. The picture was saved in a folder, so there was no searching online, no new strangers saying anything. Ruby took the phone when Mae offered it.
It was a screenshot of Jonah's post. The profile picture was small, but she could recognise him. Beneath it, in plain words, was Mae Foster's full name.
If you're thinking of booking Mae Foster, don't. She sold a client's private grief for money, then used it to promote herself. People trust you when they're vulnerable. You don't get to turn that into an advert.
Ruby read it again. She imagined her own name sitting there, available to anyone. Her stomach tightened.
‘You said you didn't get paid for it.’
‘I didn't. It was a post on my work account. I wasn't commissioned. I didn't sell a story to a paper or anyone else.’
‘But it promoted your styling.’
‘Yes.’ Mae picked at the heel of the stolen sock. ‘I thought it was a good example. Someone dreading how they'd feel in clothes, and then feeling better. I thought I could use it because I hadn't said who she was.’
‘Did you ask her?’
‘No.’
Ruby put the phone down between them.
‘She was upset?’
‘She wanted it taken down. I did that straight away.’
‘What did you say to her?’
Mae looked at the phone. ‘That I was sorry. That nobody would know it was her. She didn't want that answer.’
‘I can understand why.’
‘So can I now.’ Mae's eyes filled, and she blinked hard. ‘I can understand it and still think he shouldn't have done that to me.’
Ruby could too. She remembered taking Mae's calls outside the bakery so Dan wouldn't overhear her crying. Once she'd sat on a flour sack for half an hour because Mae was frightened to open an email and didn't want to do it alone.
Mae took back the phone and opened another saved picture. An agency email said they wouldn't be offering further assignments while the complaints continued. Its polite end looked worse than anger.
‘After that there wasn't a while,’ Mae said. ‘It was just no more assignments.’
‘I remember.’
‘I know you do.’
They sat quietly. From upstairs came the long scrape of a chair being moved. Ruby watched a thread dangling from Mae's sleeve and wanted, fiercely, to mend something she could actually mend.
‘You should keep those socks,’ she said.
Mae wiped her nose on the back of her wrist. ‘This is a terrible moment for a gift.’
‘It's a very small gift.’
‘Thank you.’
Ruby smiled, then reached for her own phone.
She'd liked Jonah. She could still remember him looking at her outside the shop, letting her know he wanted more than a polite walk. But she couldn't go to his workshop this evening and sit beside him while Mae was here with that post saved on her phone.
I can't come tonight, she wrote. I saw what you said about Mae. I don't want to start something with someone who would do that.
She read it before sending. It sounded firm. It sounded like a person who had learned something.
Mae watched her face rather than her screen. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Cancelling tonight.’
‘You don't have to do it for me.’
‘I'm doing it because I've seen it.’
Ruby pressed Send.
Mae leaned against the side of Ruby's bed and shut her eyes. Ruby didn't know whether the little breath she let out was relief or exhaustion.
Jonah's answer arrived while Ruby was lacing her shoes.
All right. I shouldn't have posted it. I'm sorry I did.
Nothing more. Ruby stared at the message. Part of her had expected him to argue, and had prepared an argument of her own.
Mae went to get dressed. Ruby carried the support back into the hall. It was smooth where Jonah had sanded it, rough underneath where it had come from something larger. She had no idea what he usually charged for that sort of work.
She put it in a bag. Keeping it would feel odd now.
At the door she called that she was taking it back.
Mae came out of the spare room, one earring in. ‘Do you need me to come?’
‘No. I'll be quick.’
‘Call me if you want to.’
Ruby nodded and went down the stairs. By the time she reached the street, she was already thinking of a question she hadn't asked.