Seven
IT DOESN’T SEEM he has, though, because on Saturday, I receive a card of a pre-Raphaelite girl
looking coyly over her shoulder. Inside, Tarquin has written:
Many apologies for my uncouth behavior. I hope to make it up to you. Tickets to Bayreuth—or,
failing that, dinner?
Tarquin.
Dinner with Tarquin. Can you imagine? And what’s he going on about, anyway? I’ve never heard of
Bayreuth. Is it a new show or something? Or does he mean Beirut? Why would we want to go to Beirut,
for God’s sake?
Anyway, I’ve got more important things to think about today. This is my sixth day of Cutting
Back—and, crucially, my first weekend. David E. Barton says this is often when one’s frugal regime
cracks, as the office routine is no longer there as a distrac-tion and the day stretches empty, waiting to be
filled with the familiar comfort of shopping.
But I’m too strong-willed to crack. I’ve got my day completelysussed—and I’m not goingnear any
shops. This morning I’m going to visit a museum and then tonight, instead of wasting lots of money on an
expensive takeaway, I’m cooking a homemade curry for me and Suze. I’m actually quite excited about it.
My entire budget for today is as follows:
Travel to museum:
Museum:
Curry:
free (I already have a travelcard)
free
ฃ2.50 (David E. Barton says you
can make a wonderful curry for
four people for less than
ฃ5.00—and there are only two of