Shopaholic to the Rescue

by Sophie Kinsella

“No,” says Luke, sounding absolutely poleaxed.

  “Oh, yes.” Danny grins. “ ‘Something Stupid.’ Duet with Janice.”

  “No,” says Luke again, and we all turn to survey Elinor, whose head is drooping on the table again. Poor Elinor. The first time you get drunk is always horrendous, and this is obviously her first time.

  “You’ll be OK,” I say, and stroke her back. “Hang in there, Elinor.” I’m just pouring her some more water when I see Suze and Alicia out of the corner of my eye. Needless to say, they don’t look one bit hungover. Alicia’s got that burnished healthy glow which all the Golden Peace staffers have. (It comes from the Golden Peace bronzing serum, by the way, not healthy living.) Suze’s blond hair is freshly washed and she’s wearing a white long-sleeved top, which gives her an angelic air. As they draw near, I get a waft of some fresh, breezy scent, as if they’re both wearing the same perfume, which maybe they are, because they’re such best, best friends.

  “Hello, you two!” I say, compelling myself to sound polite. “Did you have a good evening?”

  “We had an early night,” says Alicia. “And this morning we found a tai chi class.”

  “Great!” I force a smile. “Lovely. Can I pour you some water? Have you seen Danny’s here?”

  As the two sit down, Danny approaches from the buffet. He’s holding a plate piled high with lobster and grapes and nothing else.

  “Suze! Darling.” He blows her a kiss. “I’m here for you. I mean, literally. I. Am here.” He points at himself. “For you. Just tell me what I can do.”

  “Danny!” says Suze with a ferocious glare. “What the hell do you think you’ve been doing?”

  “I flew here as soon as I could,” says Danny proudly. “My assistants and I are at your disposal. Tell me what we can do.”

  “I’ll tell you what you can not do!” says Suze. She pulls out one of Danny’s fliers and brandishes it at him. “You can not plaster my husband’s face all over Las Vegas so I get a million people wanting to ‘hook up’ with him! Do you know the kind of calls and texts I’ve been getting?”

  “No!” says Danny in delight. “What did they say?” Then he notices Suze’s expression and draws himself up defensively. “I was only trying to help, Suze. Excuse me for deploying my resources to aid you. Next time I won’t bother.”

  I can see Suze quivering, trying to get a grip on herself, and after a few moments she says, “I’m sorry, Danny. I know you were trying to help. But honestly.”

  “They’re great pictures, though, aren’t they?” says Danny, looking lovingly at Tarkie’s moody gaze.

  “I hate them,” says Suze with fervor.

  “I know, but they’re still great. You have to admit it, Suze. You’re an artist. You have an eye. Hey, I have a coat from my new collection that’s perfect for you. It has, like, this mammoth ruff neckline? Like Elizabeth the First? You would totally pull it off. Peace offering?”

  No one can stay cross with Danny for long. I can see Suze unbending and rolling her eyes at him, and eventually she leans back with a huffing sigh and turns to Alicia. “Alicia, you’ve met Danny Kovitz, haven’t you?” she says. “Danny, Alicia Merrelle.”

  “I remember you from Becky’s wedding,” says Danny blandly to Alicia. “You made quite the entrance.”

  I can see a flash of something pass across Alicia’s face—anger? remorse?—but she doesn’t reply. Suze has poured out two glasses of water, and the two of them start sipping delicately.

  “Where did you go last night?” says Danny to Suze, who shakes her head.

  “We didn’t. We stayed in all night. Shall we go to the buffet, Alicia?”

  As the two of them get up, Danny leans across the table to me.

  “Well, that’s a lie,” he murmurs quietly.

  “What’s a lie?”

  “Alicia wasn’t in all evening. I saw her in the lobby of the Four Seasons, about midnight, talking to some guy.”

  “You’re kidding!” I say, agog.

  “You’re kidding!” mimics Minnie at once.

  “What was she doing? And why would she lie about it?”

  Danny shrugs and stuffs about six grapes into his mouth at once.

  “I need ice water,” he says fretfully. “This water isn’t chill enough. Where’s Kasey?”

  He starts to text, and I lean back in my chair, watching Alicia as she selects pieces of grapefruit. I knew she was up to something. What was she doing in the Four Seasons lobby at midnight? It sounds totally suspicious, if you ask me. I’m about to ask Danny for more details, when I suddenly notice that Elinor has fallen asleep on the table. Her face is squashed up and her hair is skewiff and I can hear a gentle snoring.

  I am so tempted to take a selfie with her right now. But, no. That wouldn’t be the act of a kind, mature daughter-in-law.

  “Elinor.” I shake her gently. “Elinor, wake up!”

  “Huh?” She comes to with a start and rubs at her eyes while I watch in alarm, half-expecting flakes of skin to start falling off her face.

  “Have some more water.” I hand her the glass and look at my watch. “Tarkie and Dad should be here soon.”

  “If they come,” says Luke, who is tucking into bacon and eggs and feeding every other forkful to Minnie.

  “ ‘If they come’?” I stare at him in dismay. “What do you mean? Of course they’ll come.”

  “Kidding,” puts in Minnie emphatically. “You’re kidding.” She looks around proudly and pinches a strawberry off Mum’s plate. But Mum doesn’t even notice. She’s also staring at Luke in consternation.

  “What makes you say that, Luke? Has Graham been in touch with you?”

  “Of course not,” says Luke patiently as Suze sits down again. “But it’s ten past nine now. If this appointment was going to happen, I think they’d be on time. I just have a hunch about it.”

  “A hunch?” says Mum suspiciously.

  “What do you know?” demands Suze. “Luke, what aren’t you telling us?”

  “Luke doesn’t know anything!” I say hurriedly. “And his instincts are usually wrong. I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

  But I’m lying, of course. Luke’s instincts are usually spot on. Why else has he done so well in business? He can read people and situations and think ahead of everyone else. And then, as we’re sitting there silently, sipping our drinks, my phone rings. I pull it out and see Dad on the screen, and my heart plummets.

  “Dad!” I exclaim determinedly. “Great! Are you here? We’re sitting at the big circular table, next to the huge display of fruit.”

  “Becky—” He stops, and there’s silence and I know, I just know.

  “Dad, I’m passing you over to Mum,” I say in a kind of fierce, bright way. “Right now. You’re talking to Mum.”

  I’m not being the messenger anymore. I can’t do it.

  I hand the phone to Mum and furiously start cutting up a melon slice. My head is bowed over the plate, but I can hear Mum’s voice getting shriller and shriller:

  “But we’re all sitting here, waiting! Graham, don’t you tell me not to worry….Well, then, tell me the truth….I think I’ll decide what’s important or not….Go back to L.A.?…No, I haven’t visited any vineyards….No, I don’t want to visit any vineyards….Stop talking about bloody vineyards!”

  “Let me talk to him!” Suze keeps chiming in. “Is Tarkie there?” At last she wrests the phone off Mum and exclaims, “I need to talk to my husband!…Well, where is he?…What do you mean, a ‘walk’?” She’s practically snarling at the phone. “I need to speak to him!”

  At last she switches the phone off and slaps it back down on the table. She’s breathing hard and her cheeks are pink. “If one more person tells me to relax…”

  “I agree!” says Mum vociferously.

  “How can I relax?”

  “Vineyards! He wants me to go and visit the vineyards! I’ll give that Graham what for when I see him. He kept spouting nonsense, like, ‘This isn’t a big deal….I
’ve only been away for a couple of days….What’s the problem?’ The problem is, he’s keeping secrets from me!” She bangs her cup down on the table. “There’s another woman. I know there is.”

  “Mum!” I say, shocked. “No!”

  “There is!” Tears rise in her eyes, and she dabs at them with a napkin. “That’s what he’s ‘putting right.’ Something to do with another woman.”

  “No, he’s not!”

  “Well, what else can it be?”

  And there’s silence. The truth is, I have no idea what it can be.

  —

  We sit there for forty minutes longer, even though we know they’re not coming. It’s as though we’ve all been stunned into inaction.

  Plus, you know, the buffet really is excellent. And my appetite has greatly recovered after a few cups of coffee. In fact, I’ve decided to switch from the 5:2 diet to the “get the most from your buffet because it’s costing you a fortune” diet.

  Meanwhile, Elinor has revived and is deep in conversation with Danny. It turns out they know all the same society ladies in Manhattan, because Elinor goes to events with them and Danny sells dresses to them. Danny has even opened up his sketchbook and is drawing outfits for Elinor, while she watches over his shoulder.

  “This would do for the opera,” he’s saying, as he shades the skirt with crosshatching. “Or gallery events, tea parties…”

  “Not too much of a peplum,” says Elinor, regarding his sketch with a critical eye. “I do not wish to appear as a lampshade.”

  “Elinor, I’ll give you exactly the right amount of peplum,” Danny retorts. “Trust me. I have the eye.”

  “I have the money,” Elinor shoots back, and I stifle a snort. These two are a good match. Now Danny is drawing a sweeping coat with a massive funnel neck.

  “This neckline is your friend,” he says to Elinor. “Higher in back, lower in front. It’s going to frame your face. It’s going to look unbelievable. And we’re going to edge it in faux fur.” He’s drawing in the fur, and Elinor is watching avidly. To be honest, I’m quite fascinated myself. Elinor would look amazing in that coat.

  “I need a muffin to help me think,” Danny says, suddenly leaping to his feet. “I’ll be back in a moment, Elinor.”

  As I head to the muffin stand alongside him, Danny looks delighted with himself.

  “I’m basing a whole new collection around Elinor,” he tells me. “Danny Kovitz Classic. Like, a semi-couture line for the lady of silver years.”

  “Silver dollars, more like,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  “Both.” He winks at me. “You know, Elinor has a very good sense of style.”

  “Well, yes…Only, she’s a bit rigid.”

  “I don’t find that,” says Danny complacently. “I find her very receptive to new ideas.”

  “Well, obviously she’s hit it off with you,” I say, a bit jealously. I had been thinking of myself as Elinor’s fashion guru. I mean, I’m the one who got her into wrap dresses. But now Danny will take over and claim all the credit. “Anyway, enjoy. How much are you going to charge her for all this?”

  “Oh, not more than the price of a small condo in Mexico,” murmurs Danny. “I already googled the one I want.”

  “Danny!”

  “I just need to sell her three more coats.”

  “Danny!” I give him a push. “Don’t exploit my mother-in-law.”

  “She’s exploiting me!” retorts Danny. “Do you know how much work this will all be? Hey, I might get myself a waffle.”

  As he heads to the other side of the buffet, I wander over to the Italian-themed counter, and I’m just reaching for a cannolo when my phone rings. I pull it out and stare at the display in astonishment. It’s Tarquin. Why’s he phoning me? Did he get the wrong number?

  “Hi!” I say breathlessly. “Oh my God, Tarkie, hi! I’ll just get Suze—”

  “No!” says Tarquin. “I don’t want to talk to Suze.”

  “But—”

  “If you get her, Becky, I’ll ring off.”

  He sounds so adamant, I gape at the phone.

  “But, Tarkie…”

  “I phoned to have a conversation with you, Becky. That’s why I dialed your number.”

  “But I’m not your wife,” I say, feeling stupid.

  “You’re my friend. Aren’t you?”

  “Of course. Tarkie…” I rub my head, trying to collect my thoughts. “What’s happened to you?”

  “Nothing’s happened to me.”

  “But you’ve really changed. You sound fine. In L.A., we all thought—” I stop before I can say, we all thought you were losing it.

  And I know that sounds extreme—but, honestly, Tarkie was in a mess. All he wanted to do was spend time with Bryce. All he could talk about was how Suze was sabotaging him. It was miserable.

  “I was in a bad way in L.A.,” says Tarkie after a long pause. “It was…claustrophobic. That can make any relationship go in a strange direction.”

  He must be talking about himself and Bryce.

  “But surely things are even more claustrophobic now?” I say, puzzled. “I mean, now you’re with Bryce all the time, things won’t get any better—”

  “I don’t mean Bryce! Why would I mean Bryce? I mean Suze!”

  “Suze?”

  I blink at the phone. Does he mean— He doesn’t mean—

  “Tarkie?” I begin in slight dread. “What do you—”

  “You must have seen us, Becky,” says Tarkie, his voice gruff. “You must have realized things weren’t good between Suze and me. Well, they hit a real low in L.A.”

  “It was a stressy time for everyone,” I put in quickly.

  “No, it was really bad for us.”

  I feel a kind of knotting in my stomach. I’ve never had a conversation like this with Tarkie before. Suze and Tarkie have never gone wrong before. They can’t go wrong. I feel like the world isn’t right if Suze and Tarkie aren’t happy.

  “You must have realized,” Tarkie repeats.

  “I…well…” I stammer. “I knew you were spending a lot of time with Bryce, but—”

  “Yes, and why do you think that was?” Tarkie sounds so forceful, I jump. “I’m sorry,” he backtracks immediately. “I didn’t mean to lose my cool like that.”

  Tarkie is such a gentleman. I’ve barely ever heard him even snap before. My head is spinning with worry and distress, and all I can think is: Suze.

  “Tarkie, you have to talk to Suze,” I say. “Please. She’s so worried about you, she’s in a total state—”

  “I can’t talk to her,” Tarkie interrupts me. “Not right now. Becky, I can’t cope with her. She’s so irrational. She makes accusations, she jumps down my throat….I needed to get away. Your father is wonderful. He’s so balanced.”

  “But Suze needs you!”

  “I’ll be back. We’ll only be a few days.”

  “She needs you now!”

  “Well, maybe our marriage needs some time apart!” he practically shouts.

  There’s nothing I can say to that. I just stand there, quivering in shock, trying to think of how to turn this conversation around to a better place.

  “So…why did you phone?” I say finally.

  “I think you should warn Alicia about Bryce. I’ve found out what he’s up to.”

  “Oh wow.” My heart starts to beat faster. We’ve all known Bryce was up to no good—but what is it? A cult? A secret organization? Oh God, he’s not a terrorist, is he?

  “Bryce has been trying to get money out of me for a while. He talked of his ‘cause,’ but he was secretive as to what exactly this ‘cause’ was.”

  My heart lurches. A “cause.” Oh my God, it’s true. I stare at the phone in dread, imagining Bryce yelling instructions at a secret army of followers at a training camp in South America. Or hacking into Google, maybe.

  “Now he’s finally revealed the truth,” Tarkie continues. “And his plan is…”

  “Yes?” I prompt brea
thlessly.

  “To set up a rival center to Golden Peace.”

  “Oh,” I say, after a short silence. “Oh, right.”

  I have to confess: I feel just a tad let down. I mean, obviously I’m glad Bryce isn’t a terrorist or cult leader…but still. A new business venture. Bor-ing.

  “He’s been collecting a database of former clients of Golden Peace, many of whom were unhappy with their experience,” Tarquin is telling me. “He’s been working on it secretly. Alicia and her husband should watch out. Bryce is going to be extremely aggressive. I’m not the only person he’s targeting for money, so I’m sure he’ll succeed.”

  “Oh,” I say again. “Well, I’ll tell Alicia.”

  All my adrenaline has faded away. So Bryce is going into competition with Alicia. So what? I’m far more concerned with Tarkie and what he’s up to with my dad. And what’s going on with Tarkie and Suze. And what on earth I do now.

  I’m in an impossible situation, I suddenly realize. If I warn Alicia about Bryce’s business venture, she’ll say, How did you find out? and I’ll have to admit I’ve spoken to Tarkie, and Suze will go mad.

  “Tarkie, can’t you tell me what you’re up to with my dad?” The words tumble out. “Please?”

  “Becky…” Tarkie hesitates. “Your father is a good man. And he’s very protective. He doesn’t want you to know what he’s doing. Personally, I can’t see why, but perhaps you should respect that.” I can hear a noise down the line, which sounds like a car engine starting. “I’m sorry, I have to go. But please don’t worry.”

  “Tarkie, wait!” I cry, but the phone goes dead, and I stand stock still, digesting what I’ve just heard.

  “Becky?” I look up to see Luke in front of me. “Who on earth was that? You look deathly.”

  “It was Tarquin,” I say miserably. “Oh, Luke, I don’t think he’s having a nervous breakdown at all. He’s having a marital breakdown. He says he needs to spend some time away from Suze…things aren’t going well between them….” I gulp. “What do I say to Suze?”

  “Nothing,” says Luke at once. “Do not get involved in their relationship. She’ll just transfer all her anger onto you.”

  “He said she was…” I swallow. “Irrational.”

  “Well,” says Luke drily. “I think Suze is going through a pretty odd phase. But if you tell her she’s irrational, your friendship will definitely be at an end.”