Mini Shopaholic

by Sophie Kinsella

  Oh God. This could all go horribly wrong.

  I glance over at Luke – but he’s laughing at something and doesn’t even notice me. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  The stairs up to the Priest’s Passage are tiny and narrow and musty, and I clutch my precious Valentino dress to me. As Suze cautiously pushes open the old wooden door, it’s Elinor’s shoulders I see first – narrow and rigid. Her face is pressed right up to the panel in front of her and she looks like a statue. She hasn’t even heard us.

  ‘Elinor?’ I whisper, and she whips round, a fleeting look of panic on her pale face.

  ‘It’s fine! It’s me and Suze. We’ve brought you a snack.’ I offer her a plate of mini desserts from dinner, but she shrinks away.

  ‘I must go.’

  ‘No! You don’t have to. We just wanted to make sure you were all right.’

  ‘Luke doesn’t suspect I’m here?’

  ‘No. Not at all.’

  There’s silence. Elinor resumes her watch and I glance at Suze, who gives me a ‘What do we do now?’ shrug.

  ‘Luke and Minnie seem very close,’ says Elinor, her eye pressed right up against the spyhole. ‘He has a natural manner with her.’

  ‘Um … yes.’

  ‘With your parents, too.’

  I don’t reply. This is all too surreal. How did I get into this situation? How can I be standing in a tiny cramped hole with my rich-bitch mother-in-law, both of us hiding from the man who links us?

  And how can I be feeling like I want to give her a great big, warm, proper family hug? Like I want to gather her in, away from this dark, distant hiding hole, into the light and warmth of the party? She’s never seemed so vulnerable and alone as she does right now. And it’s because of her that we’re all having the time of our lives.

  ‘It’s just wonderful down there.’ I put a hand out cautiously and squeeze her arm. ‘Everyone’s said it’s the best party they’ve ever been to.’

  ‘Luke has enjoyed it?’ She turns.

  ‘Oh my God, yes! He’s bowled over! Did you see his face?’

  ‘You’ve made his year!’ Suze nods enthusiastically. ‘He’s so touched. He’s been round the whole forest, looking at every detail. It’s so clever.’

  Elinor says nothing, but I see the tiniest flicker of satisfaction in her eyes. And suddenly I can’t bear it. This is all wrong. I want Luke to know. I want everyone to know. There was a massive driving force behind tonight, and it was Luke’s mother.

  ‘Elinor, come down.’ The words spill out before I can stop them. ‘Come down and join the party.’ I hear Suze’s astonished gasp, but ignore it. ‘Come on. I’ll make things OK with Luke.’

  ‘I fear that will be impossible.’

  ‘No it won’t!’

  ‘I must leave. Now. I have stayed too long.’ Elinor has unclasped her handbag and is pulling on a pair of kid gloves. Oh God, now I’ve frightened her away.

  ‘Look, I know you’ve had difficulties, you two,’ I say cajolingly. ‘But this is the perfect time to mend them. At his party! And when he knows you were behind all this … he’ll love you! He’ll have to love you!’

  ‘That’s precisely why I cannot go down.’ Her voice sounds so harsh that I flinch – though it might just be because of the dusty air up here. ‘I did not fund this party in order to win Luke’s love in some ostentatious way.’

  ‘That’s not … I didn’t mean …’

  ‘I will not go down. I will not join in the festivities. I will not have him knowing that I was any part of tonight. You will never tell him. Never, do you hear me, Rebecca?’

  Her eyes flash at me furiously and I recoil in fright. For all the vulnerability, she can still be pretty scary.

  ‘OK!’ I gulp.

  ‘There are no conditions attached to tonight. I have done this for Luke.’ She’s looking again through the spyhole. ‘I have done this for Luke,’ she repeats, almost as though to herself.

  There’s a long silence. Suze and I are glancing at each other nervously but neither of us dares speak.

  ‘If I went down, if I were to make myself known as the benefactor, I would have done it for myself.’ She turns and regards me evenly, her eyes giving nothing away. ‘As you said so clearly, an unconditional act does not require reward.’

  God, she’s hard on herself. If it were me I’d make up some reason why I could do it all for Luke, be the noble benefactor and go to the party.

  ‘So … you’ll never tell him?’ I venture. ‘Ever? He’ll never know it was you?’

  ‘He will never know.’ She looks at Suze dispassionately. ‘Please stand aside so I can leave.’

  That’s it? No high fives, group hugs, let’s-do-this-again?

  ‘Elinor … wait.’ I hold out my arms, but she doesn’t react, so I shuffle towards her in the tiny space, but she still doesn’t seem to know what I’m doing. So at last I wrap my arms gingerly around her bony frame, feeling like Minnie when she randomly hugs a tree in the park.

  I can’t quite believe this is happening. I’m hugging Elinor.

  Me. Hugging Elinor. Because I want to.

  ‘Thanks,’ I murmur. ‘For everything.’

  Elinor draws away, looking stiffer than ever. She nods briefly to me and Suze, then slips through the wooden door.

  ‘Will anyone see her?’ I mutter anxiously to Suze, who shakes her head.

  ‘There’s a back way out. I showed her earlier.’

  I lean against the dusty old wall and breathe out heavily. ‘Wow.’

  ‘I know.’

  Our eyes meet through the dimness, and I know Suze is thinking all the same thoughts I am.

  ‘D’you think he’ll ever know it was her?’

  ‘Dunno.’ I shake my head. ‘I just … don’t know.’ I glance through the spyhole again. ‘Come on. We’d better go down.’

  The party is in full swell downstairs. Guests are milling around everywhere, holding drinks, wearing their silver party hats (we had crackers at dinner), wandering around the midsummer forest and looking at the waterfall, which is now lit up with amazing coloured lights, or gathered around the roulette tables. The catering staff are circulating with tiny little passion-fruit sorbets on individual spoons. Danny’s models are stalking around in their spectacular Midsummer Night’s Dream costumes, looking like they’ve popped in from a magic faraway land. There’s echoing laughter everywhere, and chatter, and the thud-thud of the band reverberating through the floor, and every so often the flash of a laser from the show. I must go and dance again in a minute.

  I head towards the cocktail bar, where a bartender flown in especially from New York is entertaining a small crowd with cocktail-shaker tricks. There, to my astonishment, I find Janice and Jess clinking glasses with massive warm, friendly smiles.

  What’s going on? I thought they hated each other.

  ‘Hi!’ I touch Jess’s shoulder. ‘How’s it going? Doesn’t Jess look amazing?’ I add to Janice.

  ‘Absolutely super!’ agrees Janice. ‘What a wonderful outfit!’

  ‘It’s a nice dress,’ says Jess, tugging awkwardly at it so the neckline goes crooked. ‘Nice and plain. And the fabric’s sustainable.’

  She’s always the same. The minute I compliment her appearance she gets uncomfortable and starts trying to sabotage it.

  ‘Jess borrowed this from Danny,’ I tell Janice as I patiently adjust the neckline back again. ‘It’s a prototype from his new eco-couture collection. You know it’s probably the most expensive dress in this room?’ I add airily. Which is true, even if Suze did pay a squillion. ‘It’s more expensive than mine,’ I add for good measure.

  ‘What?’ Jess blanches. ‘What are you talking about?’

  I want to burst into laughter at her expression. I’ve kind of been saving this titbit up.

  ‘Oh yes. Because it’s made of hand-spun, free-range silk,’ I explain. ‘They have to wait for the cocoons to fall naturally from the trees, and they don’t use any machines, and all the artis
ans are paid really generously. Only about three of these will ever be made. In Browns, it would cost …’

  I lean forward and whisper the price in Jess’s ear. She looks as if she wants to expire on the spot.

  ‘Plus, no one in the world has worn any of the pieces from this new collection yet,’ I inform her. ‘You realize you’re an exclusive fashion story?’

  Anyone else in the world would be thrilled to be an exclusive fashion story. Jess still looks completely freaked out.

  ‘Enjoy it! You look fab.’ I put an arm round her shoulders and squeeze tight until she reluctantly laughs.

  ‘So are you having a good time? Have you danced yet?’ I can’t help smiling at Janice’s beatific face. She looks as though she’s had a good few cocktails.

  ‘Oh Becky!’ Janice bubbles over. ‘Guess what, love, guess what? Jess is having a baby!’

  What? I look, staggered, from Jess to Janice, to Jess’s stomach, to her cocktail, and back to her face. She can’t be—

  Oh my God, did Janice’s fertility drug work? And why is Jess looking so happy about it?

  ‘It’s only a possibility,’ corrects Jess, rolling her eyes. ‘And he’s not a baby. He’s three.’

  ‘He’s the dearest little angel!’ Janice acts as though Jess hasn’t even spoken. ‘Can we show Becky the picture?’

  I watch in bewilderment as Jess reaches into her evening bag. She pulls out a photograph and turns it around to show a grinning little boy with dark floppy hair and olive skin and a few freckles scattered over his nose.

  Instantly my heart melts. He looks so goofy and endearing, I almost want to laugh, except it might hurt Jess.

  ‘Is that …’

  ‘Maybe.’ Jess is glowing. ‘It’s early days.’

  ‘You should really think of adoption, you know, Becky.’ Janice is puffed up proudly like a pigeon. ‘As I said to your mother, it’s the only responsible way to have a child these days. Angelina showed us the way, of course.’

  Angelina showed us the way? Is this the woman who was having hysterics about five minutes ago because her son might not carry on his genes? I roll my eyes at Jess, but she just laughs and shrugs.

  ‘Well, good luck!’ I say. ‘When do you … you know. Get him?’

  ‘Like I say, it’s early days.’ Jess immediately looks cautious. ‘We may not be approved, we may still fail on all sorts of counts … I shouldn’t have shown you the picture, really.’

  Yeah, right. Like Jess is going to fail at anything.

  I’ll be an aunt! Minnie will have a cousin!

  ‘Well, I’m really happy for you.’ I squeeze Jess’s arm. ‘And I’m glad you’re having a good time, Janice.’

  ‘Oh, love, it’s amazing! I know it was a huge effort for you.’ Janice sweeps a tipsy arm around. ‘But it was all worthwhile.’

  ‘Yes,’ says Jess, before I can reply. ‘It was worthwhile.’ She meets my eyes and gives a little smile.

  Jess and Janice head off to find Tom, and I order myself a drink, and as I’m standing there, almost lost in a happy dream, I spot Luke in the mirror behind the bar. He’s standing at the roulette table, with Minnie next to him, peeping over the top. He looks totally, utterly, 100 per cent happy. Everyone’s focused on one massive pile of chips, and when the wheel comes to a standstill there’s an almighty roar. Everyone starts laughing and clapping each other on the back, and Minnie is crowing in delight.

  As the croupier starts her patter and players start placing new bets, Luke suddenly notices me watching him. He jerks his head at a quiet sofa nestling in the corner and peels away from the crowd, Minnie’s hand clutched in his.

  ‘Sweeties!’ Minnie says triumphantly as they reach us, and brandishes a handful of red and green gambling chips at me.

  ‘They’re not sweeties, darling.’ I want to laugh. ‘They’re chips!’ Now she looks totally confused. ‘Not eating chips, special chips. You make money with them at the magic table! Or … lose,’ I add hastily as I see Luke’s raised eyebrows. ‘Often you lose. So you shouldn’t ever gamble, Minnie. Gambling is very bad.’

  There. A quick zap of responsible parenting.

  Luke sinks down into the sofa and I follow suit. My ears are ringing from dancing next to the band, and my feet are starting to ache … but the rest of me is almost trancey with exhilaration. The party’s been so utterly perfect. It’s been better than I could ever have hoped. And it hasn’t even ended yet. We’ve still got some of the best bits to go!

  ‘Were you surprised?’ I say for the millionth time, just to hear him say it.

  ‘Becky …’ Luke shakes his head incredulously. ‘I wasn’t just surprised. I was absolutely blown away.’

  ‘Good,’ I say in satisfaction. I take a sip of my cocktail (a Brandon) and nestle back on the old plushy sofa, Minnie on my lap and Luke’s arm around both of us. For a few moments we’re both quiet, just taking in the scene around us.

  ‘That Christmas wish,’ Luke says suddenly. ‘You made a wish about me. In the shopping mall. Remember?’

  Oh God, I knew he heard. And he’s kept quiet about it all this time.

  ‘Was your wish about this party?’ he’s saying. ‘Is that why you rushed to shut the elf up?’

  My mind flashes back to the words I scrawled on the Christmassy paper. It seems a million years ago now.

  ‘Yes,’ I say after a pause. ‘That’s right. I wished that I could plan you a surprise party and you really would be surprised. And you were!’

  ‘You got your wish.’ He smiles.

  ‘I did.’ I survey his face, then reach up and run a hand gently down his cheek. ‘I really did.’

  ‘So, tell me.’ His eyes suddenly glint with amusement. ‘Exactly which bits of your recent strange behaviour can I ascribe to party-planning?’

  ‘I haven’t been strange.’ I hit him.

  ‘My love, you’ve been bordering on lunacy. Conceiving a boy, so we have to have sex very, very quickly?’

  ‘Party.’ I grin.

  ‘Ovulating?’

  ‘Party.’

  ‘The Botox? The so-called “boob job”?’

  I can’t help giggling at his expression. ‘Party. I’d been meeting Bonnie for the first time. Oh, and don’t bollock her about mentioning your shower gel any more!’ I add sternly. ‘It was me who told her to mention it. And the gym. And anything else that sounded a bit strange.’

  ‘You?’ He stares at me. ‘Oh, for fuck’s …’ He shakes his head as it obviously all starts falling into place. ‘Why the hell didn’t I realize? I should have known she wouldn’t become that erratic overnight. What about the sixteen coats?’ he adds suddenly. ‘Was that a party thing too?’

  ‘Er … no,’ I admit. ‘That really was Minnie. Naughty girl, Minnie,’ I add reprovingly.

  ‘But what I really don’t understand is … how did you achieve all this?’ He sweeps the air with a hand. ‘I mean, Becky, this is beyond spectacular. This is …’ He trails off.

  I know what’s underlying his words. He doesn’t want to say it, but he’s worried I took out some massive loan for all this and I won’t tell him till tomorrow when I’ll reveal we’re broke.

  Honestly, he could have more faith.

  But there’s no point pretending this evening didn’t cost shed-loads of money. Any moron can see that it did.

  ‘I had … help,’ I say. ‘Major, major help. With everything. Bonnie was amazing,’ I add quickly, before he presses me more on exactly who helped with the finances. ‘She coordinated everything, she arranged the guest list, she sent out the invitations …’

  ‘And of course that’s why she was looking so shifty the other day.’ Luke exhales, looking rueful. ‘OK. I get it. I’ve really fucked up. I owe her a big bunch of flowers.’

  ‘Not lilies,’ I put in. ‘You always get them and she can’t stand them, but she’s too polite to say anything. Get sweet peas and ranunculus. Or I could tell you all her favourite Jo Malone products.’

  Luke shoots me
an astonished look. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Loads, if you’re interested,’ I say blithely. ‘Bonnie and I are best friends now. We tell each other everything.’

  ‘Oh, you do, do you?’ Luke looks as though he’s not sure what he thinks about this.

  ‘We really bonded over this whole thing. It’s been such a saga.’ I take a swig of cocktail and kick off my shoes. Talking everything over with Luke, it feels as if some wound-up part of me is finally starting to relax. ‘You can’t imagine. Trying not to let you see the internet, and breaking your BlackBerry …’

  ‘I still can’t believe you did that.’ He raises a half-grin –although I’m not sure he totally has a sense of humour about his BlackBerry.

  ‘And the worst thing was that bloody meeting in Paris! Oh my God, I nearly killed you!’ I can’t help starting to laugh. ‘We were all, like, “What do we do? How do we move it?” And you were so bloody pleased with yourself …’

  ‘Shit.’ I can see the realization hitting Luke. ‘Of course. The meeting was supposed to be today—’ He breaks off. ‘Wait a minute, though. You’re not saying …’ I can sense the cogs whirring in his brain. ‘You couldn’t have been behind that, surely. You’re not telling me that you personally somehow arranged for Sir Bernard Cross to decide he wanted to give me a meeting?’ He gives an astonished laugh. ‘I mean, I’ll believe many things of you, Becky, but that …’

  I keep smiling, but inside I’m kicking myself. I’ve said too much. Let’s move on, quick.

  ‘Not me, exactly. Oh God, and the marquee …’ I hastily launch into a full account of bartering for the marquee, and Luke laughs at all the right places, but I can tell he’s preoccupied. When I’ve finished, we lapse into silence and he sips his drink pensively, and I know exactly where his mind is roaming.

  ‘I always knew someone influential was behind that meeting,’ he says at last, staring into his drink. ‘I said so at the time. I could sense some powerful person behind the scenes, helping me out. And now I think I know who it was.’ He looks up, straight at me. ‘It’s obvious. And it’s obvious why you don’t want to tell me.’