Mini Shopaholic
Page 150‘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.
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?’
‘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.
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.’ ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">