Triumphantly I drain my basmati rice, take my ready-made nans out of the oven, and serve everything out onto plates. Then I sprinkle chopped fresh coriander over everything — and honestly, it looks like something out of Marie-Claire. I carry the plates through and put one in front of Suze.
“Wow!” she says. “This looks fantastic!”
“I know,” I say proudly, sitting down opposite her. “Isn’t it great?”
I watch as she takes her first forkful — then put a forkful into my mouth.
“Mmm! Delicious!” says Suze, chewing with relish. “Quite hot,” she adds after a while.
“It’s got chili powder in,” I say. “And fresh chilies. But it’s nice, though, isn’t it?”
“It’s wonderful!” says Suze. “Bex, you’re so clever! I could never make this in a million years!”
But as she’s chewing, a slightly strange expression is coming over her face. To be honest, I’m feeling a bit breathless, too. This curry is quite hot. In fact, it’s bloody hot.
Suze has put down her plate and is taking a large slug of wine. She looks up, and I see her cheeks are red.
“OK?” I say, forcing myself to smile through the pain in my mouth.
“Yeah, great!” she says, and takes a huge bite of nan. I look down at my plate and resolutely take another forkful of curry. Immediately, my nose starts to run. Suze is sniffing, too, I notice, but as I meet her eye she smiles brightly.
Oh God, this is hot. My mouth can’t stand it. My cheeks are burning, and my eyes are starting to water. How much chili powder did I put in this bloody thing? Only about one teaspoonful. . or maybe it was two. I just kind of trusted my instincts and chucked in what looked about right. Well, so much for my instincts.
Tears start running down my face, and I give an enormous sniff.
“Are you OK?” says Suze in alarm.
“I’m fine!” I say, putting down my fork. “Just. . you know. A bit hot.”
But actually, I’m not OK. And it’s not just the heat that’s making tears run down my face. Suddenly I feel like a complete failure. I can’t even get a quick and easy curry right. And look how much money I spent on it, with the Balti pan and the apron and all the spices. . Oh, it’s all gone wrong, hasn’t it? I haven’t Cut Back at all. This week’s been a complete disaster.
I give a huge sob and put my plate on the floor.
“It’s horrible!” I say miserably, and tears begin to stream down my face. “Don’t eat it, Suze. It’ll poison you.”
“Bex! Don’t be silly!” says Suze. “It’s fantastic!” She looks at me, then puts her own plate on the floor. “Oh, Bex.” She shuffles across the floor, reaches up, and gives me a hug. “Don’t worry. It’s just a bit hot. But otherwise, it’s brilliant! And the nan is delicious! Honestly. Don’t get upset.”
I open my mouth to reply, and instead hear myself giving another huge sob.
“Bex, don’t!” wails Suze, practically crying herself. “It’s delicious! It’s the most delicious curry I’ve ever tasted.”
“It’s not just the curry!” I sob, wiping my eyes. “The point was, I was supposed to be Cutting Back. This curry was only supposed to cost £2.50.”
“But. . why?” asks Suze perplexedly. “Was it a bet, or something!”
“No!” I wail. “It was because I’m in debt! And my dad said I should Cut Back or Make More Money. So I’ve been trying to Cut Back. But it hasn’t worked. .” I break off, shuddering with sobs. “I’m just a complete failure.”
“Of course you’re not a failure!” says Suze at once. “Bex, you’re the opposite of a failure. It’s just. .” She hesitates. “It’s just that maybe. .”
“What?”
There’s silence, then Suze says seriously, “I think you might have chosen the wrong option, Becky. I don’t think you’re a Cut Back kind of person.”
“Really?” I sniff, and wipe my eyes. “Do you think?”
“I think you should go for Make More Money instead.” Suze pauses thoughtfully. “In fact, to be honest, I don’t know why anyone would choose Cut Back. I think Make More Money is a much better option. If I ever had to choose, that’s definitely the one I’d go for.”
“Yes,” I say slowly. “Yes, maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s what I should do.” I reach down with a shaky hand and take a bite of warm nan — and Suze is right. Without the curry, it’s delicious. “But how shall I do it?” I say eventually. “How shall I make more money?”
There’s silence for a while, with both of us thoughtfully chewing on nan. Then Suze brightens.
“I know. Look at this!” She reaches for a magazine and flips to the classified ads at the back. “Look what it says here. ‘Need extra money? Join the Fine Frames family. Make thousands, working from home in your spare time. Full kit supplied.’ You see? It’s easy.”
Wow. I’m quite impressed. Thousands. That’s not bad.
“Yes,” I say shakily, “maybe I’ll do that.”
“Or you could invent something,” says Suze.
“Like what?”
“Oh, anything,” she says confidently. “You’re really clever. Remember when the coffee filter broke, and you made a new one out of a knee-high?”
“Yes,” I say, and a tiny glow of pride spreads over me. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?”