Chapter One

Chapter One

OK. Don't panic. The answer will come to me any minute. I just have to think hard about what marriage is all about. It's about love, obviously. And companionship, and mutual support. And . . . soup?

My eye rests on a huge antique silver tureen, complete with ladle. Now, that would make a perfect wedding gift. I can just see it: Suze and Tarquin sitting by the fire, ladling soup into each other's bowls. It'll be all lovely and domestic and heartwarming, and every time they drink soup they'll think of me.

Perhaps I could even have it engraved. "To my best friends Suze and Tarquin on their wedding day with love and affection from Becky." And a little poem, maybe.

Mind you, engraving is quite expensive. I'd better check how much it would all come to.

"Excuse me, how much is this soup tureen?" I say, turning to Arthur Graham, who is the owner of Graham's Antiques. This shop has to be one of my favorites in the West Village. It's small and intimate like someone's home, and everywhere you turn, there's something you might want. Like that fantastic carved chair, and a hand-painted velvet throw, and that amazing grandfather clock over in the corner . . .

"The tureen?" Arthur comes over, dapper in his jacket and tie. "This is very special. Eighteenth-century silver. Exquisite craftsmanship. You see this detail on the rim?"

"Beautiful!" I look obediently.

"And it's priced at . . ." He consults a little book. "Four thousand dollars."

"Oh, right." My smile falters, and I carefully put the ladle back. "Thanks. I'll . . . keep looking."