Shopaholic ties the knot s-3
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Appointments Commission
Nomination Form
Please summarize here why you are suitable for recommendation as a nonparty political peer and how you, personally, would make an effective contribution to the work of the House of Lords. Please support this with a CV clearly showing your major achievements and highlighting relevant skills and experience.
APPLICATION TO BE A LIFE PEER
Name: Rebecca Bloomwood
Address: Apt. B
251 W. 11th Street
New York, NY 10014
Preferred title: Baroness Rebecca Bloomwood of Harvey Nichols
Major achievements:
PatriotismI have served Great Britain for many years, bolstering the economy through the medium of retail.
Trade RelationsSince living in New York I have promoted international trade between Britain and America, e.g., I always buy imported Twinings tea and Marmite.
Public SpeakingI have appeared on television chairing debates on current affairs (in the world of fashion).
Cultural ExpertiseI am a collector of antiques and fine art, most notably 1930s cocktail cabinets and barware.
Personal contribution if appointed:
As a new member of the House of Lords, I would personally be very willing to take on the role of fashion consultant, an area hitherto neglected — yet vital to the very lifeblood of democracy.
SECOND UNION BANK
53 Wall Street
New York, NY 10005
February 21, 2002
Miss Rebecca Bloomwood
Apt. B251 W. 11th Street
New York, NY 10014
Dear Miss Bloomwood:
Thank you for your letter of February 20.
I am afraid I could not comment on whether or not a Miù Miù skirt is a household expense.
Yours sincerely,
Walt Pitman
Director of Customer Relations
Six
I’M NOT GOING to get married in New York. Of course I’m not. It’s unthinkable. I’m going to get married at home, just like I planned, with a nice marquee in the garden. There’s absolutely no reason to change my plans. None at all.
Except… it would be amazing. Walking down that aisle in front of four hundred people, to the sound of a string orchestra, with amazing flower arrangements everywhere. Having the huge, dreamy, Lady Di wedding I always fantasized about but thought was beyond my grasp. I mean, it’d be Becky’s Big Day come to life.
Then we’d all sit down to some incredible dinner… Robyn gave me some sample dinner menus, and the food! Rosace of Maine Lobster… Fowl Consommé with Quenelles of Pheasant… Wild Rice with Pignoli Nuts…
I know Oxshott and Ashtead Quality Caterers are good — but I’m not sure they even know what a pignoli nut is. (To be honest, I don’t either. But that’s not the point.)
And maybe Elinor’s right, Mum would be grateful if we took the whole thing off her hands. Yes. Maybe she’s finding the organization more of a strain than she’s letting on. Maybe she’s already wishing she hadn’t volunteered to do the whole thing. Whereas if we get married at the Plaza, she won’t have to do anything, just turn up. Plus Mum and Dad wouldn’t have to pay for a thing… I mean, it would be doing them a favor!
So as I’m walking back to Barneys, I take out my mobile and dial the number for home. As Mum answers I can hear the closing music of Crimewatch in the background, and I suddenly feel a wave of nostalgia for home. I can just imagine Mum and Dad sitting there, with the curtains drawn and the gas-effect fire flickering cozily.
“Hi, Mum?”
“Becky!” exclaims Mum. “I’m so glad you’ve phoned! I’ve been trying to fax you through some menus from the catering company, but your machine won’t work. Dad says, have you checked your paper recently?”
“Um… I don’t know. Listen, Mum—”
“And listen to this! Janice’s sister-in-law knows someone who works at a balloon printing company! She says if we order two hundred or more balloons we can have the helium for free!”
“Great! Look, I was just thinking about the wedding, actually…”
Why do I suddenly feel nervous?
“Oh yes? Graham, turn the television down.”
“It was just occurring to me… just as a possibility”—I give a shrill laugh—“that Luke and I could get married in America!”
“America?” There’s a long pause. “What do you mean, America?”
“It was just a thought! You know, since Luke and I live here already…”
“You’ve lived there for one year, Becky!” Mum sounds quite shocked. “This is your home!”
“Well, yes… but I was just thinking…” I say feebly.
Somehow I was hoping that Mum would say “What a fantastic idea!” and make it really easy.
“How would we organize a wedding in America?”
“I don’t know!” I swallow. “Maybe we could have it at a… a big hotel.”
“A hotel?” Mum sounds as though I’ve gone mad.
“And maybe Elinor would help…” I plow on. “I’m sure she’d contribute… you know, if it was more expensive…”
There’s a sharp intake of breath at the other end of the phone and I wince. Damn. I should never have mentioned Elinor.
“Yes, well. We don’t want her contributions, thank you. We can manage very well by ourselves. Is this Elinor’s idea, then, a hotel? Does she think we can’t put on a nice wedding?”
“No!” I say hastily. “It’s just… it’s nothing! I was just…”
“Dad says, if she’s so keen on hotels, she can stay at one instead of with us.”
Oh God. I’m just making everything worse.
“Look… forget it. It was a silly idea.” I rub my face. “So — how are the plans going?”
We chat for a few more minutes, and I hear all about the nice man from the marquee company and how his quote was very reasonable, and how his son was at school with cousin Alex, isn’t it a small world? By the end of our conversation Mum sounds completely mollified and all talk of American hotels has been forgotten.
I say good-bye, turn off the phone, and exhale sharply. Right. Well, that’s decided. I might as well call Elinor and tell her. No point in hanging around.
I turn on my mobile again, dial two digits, and then stop.
On the other hand — is there any point in rushing straight into a decision?
I mean, you never know. Maybe Mum and Dad will talk it over this evening and change their minds. Maybe they’ll come out to have a look. Maybe if they actually saw the Plaza… if they saw how magical it was all going to be… how luxurious… how glamorous… I can’t quite bear to give it up. Not quite yet.
When I get home, Luke is sitting at the table, frowning over some papers.
“You came home early!” I say, pleased.
“I had some papers to go over,” says Luke. “Thought I’d get some peace and quiet here.”
“Oh, right.”
As I get near I see that they’re all headed “The Elinor Sherman Foundation.” I open my mouth to say something — then close it again.
“So,” he says, looking up with a little smile, “what did you think of the Plaza?”
“You knew about it?” I stare at him.
“Yes. Of course I did. I would have come along too if I hadn’t had a lunch appointment.”
“But, Luke…” I take a deep breath, trying not to overreact. “You know my mother’s planning a wedding in England.”
“It’s early days, surely?”
“You shouldn’t have just fixed up a meeting like that!”
“My mother thought it would be a good way to surprise you. So did I.”
“Spring it on me, you mean!” I retort crossly, and Luke looks at me, puzzled.
“Didn’t you like the Plaza? I thought you’d be overwhelmed!”
“Of course I liked it. That’s not the point.”
“I know how much you’ve always wanted a big, magnificent wedding. Wh
en my mother offered to host a wedding at the Plaza, it seemed like a gift. In fact, it was my idea to surprise you. I thought you’d be thrilled.”
He looks a bit deflated and immediately guilt pours over me. It hadn’t occurred to me that Luke might have been in on the whole thing.
“Luke, I am thrilled! It’s just… I don’t think Mum would be very happy, us getting married in America.”
“Can’t you talk her round?”
“It’s not that easy. Your mother’s been pretty high-handed, you know—”
“High-handed? She’s only trying to give us a wonderful wedding.”
“If she really wanted to, she could give us a wonderful wedding in England,” I point out. “Or she could help Mum and Dad — and they could all give us a wonderful wedding! But instead, she talks about their garden as an ‘unknown backyard’!” Resentment flares up inside me again as I remember Elinor’s dismissive voice.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean—”
“Just because it isn’t in the middle of New York! I mean, she doesn’t know anything about it!”
“OK, fine,” says Luke shortly. “You’ve made your point. You don’t want the wedding. But if you ask me, my mother’s being incredibly generous. Offering to pay for a wedding at the Plaza, plus she’s arranged us a pretty lavish engagement party…”
“Who said I want a lavish engagement party?” I retort before I can stop myself.
“That’s a bit churlish, isn’t it?”
“Maybe I don’t care about all the glitz and the glamour and the… the material things! Maybe my family is more important to me! And tradition… and… and honor. You know, Luke, we’re only on this planet for a short time…”
“Enough!” says Luke in exasperation. “You win! If it’s really going to be a problem, forget it! You don’t have to come to the engagement party if you don’t want to — and we’ll get married in Oxshott. Happy now?”
“I…” I break off, and rub my nose. Of course, it is a fairly amazing offer. And if I could somehow persuade Mum and Dad, maybe we’d all have the most fantastic time of our lives.
“It’s not necessarily a question of getting married in Oxshott,” I say at last. “It’s a question of… of… coming to the right decision. Look, you were the one saying we didn’t have to rush into anything…”
Luke’s expression softens, and he gets up.
“I know.” He sighs. “Look, Becky, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” I mumble.
“Oh, this is ridiculous.” He puts his arms around me and kisses my forehead. “All I wanted to do was give you the wedding you’ve always dreamed of. If you really don’t want to get married at the Plaza, then of course we won’t.”
“What about your mother?”
“We’ll just explain to her how you feel.” Luke gazes at me for a few moments. “Becky, it doesn’t matter to me where we get married. It doesn’t matter to me whether we have pink flowers or blue flowers. What matters to me is we’re going to become a couple — and the whole world is going to know it.”
He sounds so sure and steady, I feel a sudden lump in my throat.
“That’s what matters to me too,” I say, and swallow hard. “That’s the most important thing.”
“OK. So let’s agree. You can make the decision. Just tell me where to turn up — and I’ll turn up.”
“OK.” I smile back at him. “I promise to give you at least forty-eight hours’ notice.”
“Twenty-four will do.” He kisses me again, then points to the sideboard. “That arrived, by the way. An engagement present.”
I look over and gape. It’s a robin’s-egg-blue box, tied up with white ribbon. A present from Tiffany!
“Shall I open it?”
“Go ahead.”
Excitedly I untie the ribbon and open the box to find a blue glass bowl nestling in tissue paper, and a card reading “With best wishes from Marty and Alison Gerber.”
“Wow! This is nice! Who are the Gerbers?”
“I don’t know. Friends of my mother’s.”
“So… will everyone who comes to the party bring us a present?”
“I expect so.”
“Oh… right.”
Gosh. When Tom and Lucy had their engagement party, only about three people brought presents. And they certainly weren’t from Tiffany. I stare at the bowl thoughtfully, running my finger over its gleaming surface.
You know, maybe Luke does have a point. Maybe it would be churlish to throw Elinor’s generosity back in her face.
OK, what I’ll do is, I’ll wait until the engagement party’s over. And then I’ll decide.
The engagement party is at six o’clock the following Friday. I mean to get there early, but we have a frantic day at work, with three big emergencies — one of which involves our most demanding celebrity client, who clearly has not got over her recent breakup, whatever she may say in People magazine. Anyway, so I don’t arrive until ten past six, feeling a little flustered. On the plus side, I’m wearing a completely fabulous black strapless dress, which fits me perfectly. (Actually, it was earmarked for Regan Hartman, one of my clients. But I’ll just tell her I don’t think it would suit her after all.)
Elinor’s duplex is in a grand building on Park Avenue, with the most enormous marble-floored foyer and walnut-lined elevators that always smell of expensive scent. As I step out at the sixth floor I can hear the hubbub and tinkle of piano music. There’s a queue of people waiting at the door, and I wait politely behind an elderly couple in matching fur coats. I can just see through to the apartment, which is dimly lit and already seems to be full of people.
To be honest, I’ve never really liked Elinor’s apartment. It’s all done in pale blue, with silk sofas and heavy curtains and the dullest pictures in the world hanging on the walls. I can’t believe she really likes any of them. In fact, I can’t believe she ever looks at any of them.
“Good evening.” A voice interrupts my thoughts and I realize I’ve reached the head of the queue. A woman in a black trouser suit, holding a clipboard, is giving me a professional smile.
“May I have your name?”
“Rebecca Bloomwood,” I say modestly, expecting her to gasp, or at least light up with recognition.
“Bloomwood… Bloomwood…” The woman looks down the list, turns a page, and runs her finger to the bottom before looking up. “I don’t see it.”
“Really?” I stare at her. “It must be there somewhere!”
“I’ll look again…” The woman goes up to the top and runs her eyes down more slowly. “No,” she says at last. “I’m afraid not. Sorry.” She turns to a blond woman who has just arrived. “Good evening! May I take your name?”
“But… but… the party’s for me!”
“Vanessa Dillon.”
“Ah yes,” says the door woman, and crosses off her name with a smile. “Please go in. Serge will take your coat. Could you please step aside, miss?” she adds coldly to me. “You’re blocking the doorway.”
“You have to let me in! I must be on the list!” I peer inside the door, hoping to see Luke, or even Elinor — but it’s just a load of people I don’t recognize. “Please! Honestly, I’m supposed to be here!”
The woman in black sighs. “Do you have your invitation with you?”
“No! I don’t have one. I’m the… the engagee!”
“The what?” She stares at me blankly.
“The party’s for me! And Luke… oh God…” I peer again into the party and suddenly spot Robyn, dressed in a silver beaded top and floaty skirt.
“Robyn!” I call, as discreetly as I can. “Robyn! They won’t let me in!”
“Becky!” Robyn’s face lights up. “At last!” She beckons gaily with her champagne glass with one hand, while with the other she moves a pair of men in dinner jackets out of my path. “Come on, belle of the ball!”
“You see?” I say desperately. “I’m not gate-crashing! The party’s being given for me!”
A gift? Has she listened to anything I’ve been saying?
“No, I don’t.”
The woman rolls her eyes as though to say, “That figures”—then turns to the next person in the queue, and I hurry in before she changes her mind.
“I can’t stay long,” says Robyn as I join her. “I have three rehearsal dinners to go to. But I particularly wanted to see you tonight, because I have exciting news. A very talented event designer is going to be working on your wedding! Sheldon Lloyd, no less!”
“Wow!” I say, trying to match her tone even though I have no idea who Sheldon Lloyd is. “Gosh.”
“You’re bowled over, aren’t you? What I always say is, if you want to make things happen, make them happen now! So I’ve been speaking with Sheldon and we’ve been tossing around some ideas. He thought your Sleeping Beauty concept was fabulous, by the way. Really original.” She looks around and lowers her voice. “His idea is… we turn the Terrace Room into an enchanted forest.”
“Really?”
“Yes! I’m so thrilled, I just have to show you!”
She opens her bag and pulls out a sketch, and I stare at it in disbelief.
“We’ll have birch trees imported from Switzerland, and garlands of fairy lights. You’ll walk down an avenue of trees, with their branches hanging over you. Pine needles will give off a wonderful scent as you walk, flowers will magically blossom as you pass, and trained songbirds will sing overhead… What do you think about an animatronic squirrel?”
“Erm…” I pull a little face.
“No, I wasn’t sure about that, either. OK… we’ll forget the woodland creatures.” She takes out a pen and scores out an entry. “But otherwise… it’s going to be fabulous. Don’t you think?”
“I… Well…”
Should I tell her I’m still not quite decided about whether to get married in New York?