This is fantastic! It smells wonderful, and it looks just like it does in the book – and I didn't even follow the recipe very carefully. It just shows, I have a natural affinity with Indian cookery. And the more I practise, the more accomplished I'll become. Like David E. Barton says, I'll be able to knock up a quick, delicious curry in the time it takes to call the delivery firm. And look how much money I've saved!

Triumphantly, I drain my basmati rice, take my ready-made naan breads 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 own mouth.

'Mmm! Delicious!' says Suze, chewing in relish.

'Quite hot,' she adds, after a while.

'It's got chilli powder in,' I say. 'And fresh chillies. 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 naan bread. 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 chilli 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 m 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 naan bread 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 naan bread – 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 is silence for a while, with both of us thoughtfully chewing on naan bread. 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, in spite of myself. 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. You could think of something. Or… I know! Set up an Internet company. They're worth millions!'

You know, she's right. There's loads of things I could do to Make More Money. Loads of things! It's just a question of lateral thinking. Suddenly I feel a lot better. God, Suze is a good friend. I reach forward and give her a hug.

'Thanks, Suze,' I say. 'You're a star.'

'No problem,' she says, and hugs me back. 'So, you cut out this ad and start making your thousands…' She pauses. 'And I'll go and phone up for a takeaway curry, shall I?'

'Yes please,' I say in a small voice. 'A takeaway would be lovely.'


***

REBECCA BLOOMWOOD'S CUT-BACK PROJECT


HOME-MADE CURRY, SATURDAY ii MARCH


PROPOSED BUDGET: ?2.50


ACTUAL EXPENDITURE:

Balti pan ?15.00

Electric grinder ?14.99

Blender ?18.99

Wooden spoon 35p

Apron ?9.99

Two chicken breasts ?1.98

300g mushrooms 79p

Onion 29p

Coriander seeds ?1.29

Fennel seeds ?1.29

Allspice ?1.29

Cumin seeds ?1.29

Cloves ?1.39

Ground ginger ?1.95

Bay leaves ?1.40

Chilli powder


OH GOD, FORGET IT.


***

7 Camel Square

Liverpool L1 5NP


Ms Rebecca Bloomwood

Flat 2

4 Burney Rd

London SW6 8FD

10 March 2000


Dear Ms Bloomwood

PGNI First Bank VISA Card No. 1475839204847586 Thank you for your letter of 3 March.

I can assure you that our computers are regularly checked, and that the possibility of a 'glitch', as you put it, is remote. Nor have we been affected by the Millennium bug. All accounts are entirely accurate.

You may write to Anne Robinson at Watchdog if you wish, but I am sure she will agree that you have no grounds for complaint.

Our records inform us that payment on your VISA account is now overdue. As you will see from your most recent VISA card statement, the minimum payment required is ?105.40. I look forward to receiving your payment, as soon as possible.


Yours sincerely

Peter Johnson

Customer Accounts Executive

Eight

OK, so perhaps the Cutting Back didn't go that well. But it doesn't matter, because that's all in the past. That was negative thinking – now I'm seriously into positive thinking. Onward and upward. Growth and prosperity. M. M. M. It's the obvious solution, when you think about it. And you know what? Suze is absolutely right. Making More Money suits my personality far better than Cutting Back did. In fact, I'm already feeling much happier. Just the fact that I don't have to make any more grotty cheese sandwiches, or go to any more museums, has lifted a huge weight off my soul. And I'm allowed to buy all the cappuccinos I like, and start looking in shop windows again. Oh, the relief! I've even chucked Controlling Your Cash in the bin. I never did think it was any good.

The only small, thing – tiny niggle – is I'm not quite sure how I'm going to do it. Make More Money, I mean. But now I've decided to go ahead with it, something will turn up. I'm sure of it.

When I get into work on Monday, Clare Edwards is already at her desk – surprise – and on the phone.

'Yes,' she's saying softly. 'I suppose the only answer is to plan ahead. Yes.'

When she sees me, to my surprise she blushes a faint pink and turns away slightly. 'Yes, I understand,' she whispers, scribbling in her notepad. 'And how has… response been so far?'

God knows why she's being so secretive. As if I'm interested in her tedious life. I sit down at my desk, briskly flip on my computer and open my diary. Oh goody, I've got a press conference in the City. Even if it is some boring old pensions launch, at least it means a trip out of the office and, with any luck, a nice glass of champagne. Work can be quite fun, sometimes. And Philip isn't in yet, which means we can sit and gossip for a while.

'So, Clare,' I say, as she puts the phone down, 'how was your weekend?'

I look over, expecting to hear the usual thrilling account of what shelf she put up where with her boyfriend – but Clare doesn't even seem to have heard what I said.