Mini Shopaholic

‘Becky, is something wrong?’ Luke looks at me, puzzled, as he passes by, hefting two massive carrier bags to the removal lorry. The guys have been here for an hour and we’re nearly all packed up.

‘No!’ I say tartly. ‘What could possibly be wrong?’

Luke scans my face for a minute, then sighs. ‘Oh God. I get it.’ He dumps the bags down and puts his arms around me. ‘I know it’s a difficult day for you. Of course, it’ll be great to have our own space – but we’ve been happy living here. It’s the end of an era.’

It’s not about the ‘end of an era’! I want to yell at him. Why would I care about that? It’s ‘Why didn’t you let me meet the famous movie star?’

I just can’t believe I’ve missed such an amazing opportunity. We could all have had dinner together by now. We probably would have really hit it off. Sage and I would have exchanged phone numbers and become best friends and she would have invited me out to her home in Malibu where she’s got that shell-pink-mosaic swimming pool. It looks amazing.

I can just see us, floating on lilos, drinking smoothies, chatting about life. She could have told me how she gets her hair that amazing treacly colour and I could have told her exactly where she’d gone wrong with that last boyfriend of hers. (Because I totally disagree with that columnist in Heat magazine – the split was not inevitable.) And then we could have gone shopping and been snapped by paparazzi and started a whole new trend with scarves or something.

But Luke’s keeping me out of it. On purpose. He doesn’t deserve a surprise party. I’m so grouchy, I almost feel like telling him.

‘Becky?’ I look up to see Jess coming up the drive. ‘Good luck with your new house,’ she says matter-of-factly. ‘Here’s a house-warming present.’

She hands me a massive bulky bag made of strong brown paper and I peep inside. Bloody hell. What on earth is that?

‘Wow, thanks! Is it … candy floss?’ I say uncertainly.

‘Insulation lagging,’ says Jess. ‘Houses in this country are shockingly poor on insulation. Put it in your loft. Save some energy.’

‘Lovely!’ I pat it gingerly. ‘So, how are you? I’ve hardly seen you.’

‘I’ve been visiting friends. I try not to stay here for more than a night at a time.’ Jess lowers her voice darkly. ‘She’s doing my head in. Tom’s, too.’

‘Janice?’ I whisper back sympathetically. ‘Is she still going on about you having a baby?’

‘Worse! She knows she can’t talk about it because Tom’ll shout her down. So she’s resorted to other measures.’

‘What measures?’ I say, intrigued.

‘She gave me this herbal drink the other day. She said I seemed “run down”. But I didn’t trust her, so I looked it up online. It’s only a natural fertility drug and libido enhancer.’ She looks outraged. ‘Tom had already drunk three cups!’

‘No way!’ I feel like giggling, except Jess is so fierce, I don’t dare.

‘I wish this was us, moving out to our own place.’ She looks wistfully at the van.

‘Well, why don’t you?’

‘We’ll be going back out to South America in a few weeks.’ Jess shrugs. ‘There’s no point and we don’t have any spare cash. But I’m telling you, if she does one more thing—’

‘Come and stay with us!’ Impulsively I squeeze her arm. ‘We’ll have a fab time and I promise not to feed you any fertility drugs.’

‘Really?’ Jess looks surprised. ‘But your mum and dad said you didn’t want anyone visiting your house till it was ready.’

‘Er … kind of.’ I clear my throat.

I haven’t had a chance to explain the situation to Jess. I’ll call her later, when we’re at the rented place.

‘Ready to go?’ Luke is calling. He dropped our car off at the house yesterday, so we’re going in the removal truck. It’s the coolest thing ever. It’s got a row of seats at the front so there’s room for all of us, even Minnie. She’s already strapped into her booster with her snack box and is passing raisins one by one to the removal driver. (He’s called Alf and luckily seems a very patient guy.)

We should so buy a great big truck, I think idly. I mean, it’s the perfect family car. You’d never have to worry about having too much shopping again. We could all sit in the front and people would call us The Family in the Cool Truck, and—

‘Becky?’

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