Mini Shopaholic (Shopaholic #6)

‘You must be so relieved.’ Suze gives me a hug. ‘I can’t believe you’ve finally got a house!’

‘I know.’ I tug at her arm. ‘Come and see the garden!’

We head outside and across the lawn to the back, where there’s a huge spreading oak tree and a swing and a load of climbing equipment on bark chippings.

‘All your kids will be able to come and play here,’ I say proudly.

‘They’ll love it!’ Suze gets on the swing and starts pushing herself back and forth.

‘How’s Ernie?’ I suddenly remember. ‘How was the meeting at school?’

‘We haven’t had it yet.’ Suze’s face falls. ‘I’m dreading it. I’ve got to go to school for an event next week, and I know the headmistress will collar me …’ She suddenly breaks off. ‘Hey, Bex, will you come too? You could be my buffer. She can’t be mean to me if you’re standing there, can she?’

‘Of course I’ll come!’ I can’t wait to have a go at this headmistress, to be honest.

‘It’s an art exhibition. All the kids have done paintings and we go and have a cup of coffee and look at them,’ says Suze. ‘And then we have to make a donation to the school.’

‘I thought you paid fees,’ I say, puzzled. ‘Why do you need to make a donation?’

‘The fees are only the beginning,’ says Suze, as though I understand nothing. ‘Then there’s the fund-raising and the school charity and the collections for the teachers. I spend my whole life writing out cheques.’

‘And then, on top of that, they’re mean to you?’

‘Yes.’ Suze suddenly looks a bit miserable. ‘But it is a very good school.’

God, this whole school malarkey sounds a nightmare. Maybe I’ll find an alternative. Maybe I’ll educate Minnie at home. Or at least, not at home. That would be boring. We could do our lessons in … Harvey Nicks! God, yes. Perfect. I can just see myself now, sitting at a little table, sipping a latte and reading Minnie interesting bits of culture from the paper. We could do sums with the sugar cubes and geography in the International Designer Room. People would call me The Girl Who Teaches Her Child in Harvey Nicks and I could start a whole international trend of in-shop schooling—

‘Hey, Bex.’ Suze has stopped swinging and is squinting suspiciously at my velvet top. ‘Is that my top? Is that the one I lent you when we first moved in together?’ She’s getting off the swing. ‘And I asked you for it back and you said it got burnt accidentally in a bonfire?’

‘Er …’ I automatically take a step backwards.

That story’s ringing a bell. Why did I say I burnt it? I can’t remember now, it’s so long ago.

‘It is!’ She’s examining it closely. ‘It’s that Monsoon top! Fenny lent it to me and I lent it to you and you said you couldn’t find it and then you said it had got burnt! Do you know what a hard time Fenny gave me about that?’

‘You can have it back,’ I say hastily. ‘Sorry.’

‘I don’t want it back now.’ She peers at me incredulously. ‘Why are you wearing it, anyway?’

‘Because it was in my wardrobe,’ I say morosely. ‘And I’ve agreed to wear everything in my wardrobe three times before I go shopping for clothes again.’

‘What?’ Suze sounds staggered. ‘But … why?’

‘It was after the bank went bust. We made a deal. Luke’s not buying a car and I’m not buying any new clothes. Not till October.’

‘But Bex.’ Suze looks really concerned. ‘Isn’t that bad for your health? I mean, isn’t it dangerous to go cold turkey? I saw this TV show once. People go shaky and have blackouts. Have you felt shaky at all?’

‘Yes!’ I stare at her, riveted. ‘I felt really shaky when I walked past the Fenwick sale the other day!’

Oh my God. It never occurred to me that by giving up shopping I could be jeopardizing my health. Should I see a doctor?

‘And what about Luke’s party?’

‘Sssh!’ I say fiercely, looking around the empty garden in paranoia. ‘Don’t tell everyone! What about it?’

‘Aren’t you going to get a new dress?’ mouths Suze silently.

‘Of course I am—’ I stop dead.

That hadn’t even occurred to me. I can’t get a new dress for Luke’s party, can I? Not while our deal is still on.

‘No,’ I say at last. ‘I can’t. I’ll have to wear something out of my wardrobe. I promised him.’