Mini Shopaholic (Shopaholic #6)

St Cuthbert’s, Chelsea is the school where Ernie goes. God, no wonder he’s miserable there if it’s full of Eloises.

‘Fantastic! Is there anything Eloise can’t do?’ There’s the tiniest edge to my voice, but I’m not sure Kyla notices.

‘So I guess today Minnie and I will just hang out together, get to know each other …’ Kyla chucks Minnie under the chin. ‘She’s obviously super-intelligent, but is there anything else I should know about her? Any foibles? Little problems?’

I smile fixedly back for a few moments. I know what Luke said. But there’s no way on earth I’m saying, ‘Yes, actually she was banned from four Santas’ Grottos and everyone thinks she’s wild and my husband won’t have another child as a result.’ Not after hearing all about Saint Eloise.

And anyway, why should I prejudice Minnie’s case? If this nanny is any good, she’ll work Minnie’s little quirks out and solve them herself. I mean, that’s her job, isn’t it?

‘No,’ I say at last. ‘No problems. Minnie’s a lovely, caring child and we’re very proud to be her parents.’

‘Great!’ Kyla exposes her buck teeth in a wide smile. ‘And does she eat everything? Vegetables? Peas, carrots, broccoli? Eloise used to love to help me make risotto with vegetables from the garden.’

Of course she did. I expect she’s got a bloody Michelin star, too.

‘Absolutely,’ I reply without a flicker. ‘Minnie adores vegetables. Don’t you, darling?’

Minnie has never eaten a carrot in her life. When I once tried to hide them in a shepherd’s pie, she sucked off all the shepherd’s pie and spat the carrots one by one across the room.

But I’m not admitting that to Miss Perfect Pants. If she’s such a hotshot nanny then she’ll be able to make Minnie eat carrots, won’t she?

‘So maybe you’d like to pop out for a while, while Minnie and I get to know each other!’ Kyla addresses Minnie brightly. ‘Want to show me your Play-Doh, Minnie?’

‘OK!’ I say. ‘See you later.’

I back out of the kitchen with my cup of coffee, almost straight into Mum, who’s skulking in the hall.

‘Mum!’ I exclaim. ‘Were you spying on us?’

‘Does she know “Edelweiss” yet?’ she says with a sniff. ‘Or are we still on “Doe, a Deer”?’

Poor old Mum. I really should try to cheer her up.

‘Look, why don’t we go out shopping or something?’ I suggest on impulse. ‘Kyla wants to get to know Minnie, and Dad’ll be here in the house in case she has any problems …’

‘I can’t go shopping!’ retorts Mum touchily. ‘We’re impoverished, remember? I’ve already had to cancel all our Ocado orders, you know. Your father was adamant. No more luxury quiches, no more smoked salmon … We’re on strict rations.’ Mum’s voice trembles slightly. ‘If I go anywhere, it’ll have to be the pound shop!’

I feel a sudden pang of sympathy for her. I’m not surprised Mum’s so miserable these days.

‘Well then, let’s go to the pound shop!’ I try to jolly her along. ‘Come on, it’ll be fun!’

By the time I’ve put my coat on, Mum has phoned Janice and she’s decided to come along to the pound shop too. And when we get outside, I find Jess waiting with her, dressed in an ancient ski jacket and jeans.

‘Hi, Jess!’ I exclaim as we start walking along. ‘How are you?’

I haven’t seen Jess for ages. She and Tom went to spend some time in Cumbria last week, and I didn’t even know she was back.

‘I’m going nuts,’ she says in a savage undertone. ‘I can’t stand it. Have you ever tried living with Janice and Martin?’

‘Er … no.’ I can’t imagine Janice and Jess would get on too well. ‘What’s up?’

‘First she wouldn’t stop trying to make us have another wedding. Now she’s given up on that, she wants us to have a baby.’

‘Already?’ I want to giggle. ‘But you’ve only been married five minutes!’

‘Exactly! But Janice won’t stop dropping hints. She sits there every evening, knitting something yellow and fluffy, but she won’t say what it is.’ Jess lowers her voice darkly. ‘It’s a baby blanket, I know it is.’

‘Well. Here we are.’ Mum breaks into our conversation as we arrive at the corner of the high street.

There’s a pound shop to our right and a 99p shop opposite. For a moment we survey both in doubtful silence.