Shopaholic & Baby (Shopaholic 5)

“Right.” She nods. “Do you want a four-bottle sterilizer or a six-bottle sterilizer, or—”

“And rattles in the shape of little glitter balls! Suze, look!”

“Oh my God.” Suze’s face lights up. “I have to buy those for the twins.” She abandons the Avent leaflets, grabs her double buggy, and pushes it over. There are little “disco girl” and “disco boy” sweatshirts, and the cutest little baseball caps.

“I just wish I knew what I was having,” I say, picking up a tiny pink skirt and stroking it longingly.

“Did you try the ancient Chinese chart?” says Suze.

“Yes. It said I was having a boy.”

“A boy!” Suze’s face lights up.

“But then I found this Web site called Analyze Your Cravings, and according to that, I’m having a girl.” I sigh in frustration. “I just want to know.”

Suze looks perplexed, then reaches for a hat. “Buy this. It’s unisex.”

I buy the hat and a pair of the most fabulous kitsch platform bootees, and a Groove Baby miniature dressing gown. At the next stall I buy a baby beach towel and mini-sunshade, and a remote-controlled Winnie the Pooh mobile. I’m getting quite laden, to be honest, but Suze just keeps stashing all her stuff in the double buggy. Prams are so handy for shopping. I’d never quite appreciated it before.

And we’ve got all day here.

“Suze, I need a pram,” I say, making a snap decision.

“I know.” She nods vigorously. “The Pram City stand is just here, behind Zone C. You’ll probably need a whole travel system, and you might want to get a lightweight buggy for traveling….”

I’m barely listening as I head for the Pram City sign. The entrance is decorated with bunting and balloons, and as I step through, I can see prams stretching into the distance like an endless chrome shrubbery.

“Hi!” I say to a man in a green jacket and PRAM CITY badge. “I need a pram straightaway.”

“Of course!” He beams at me. “We normally deliver within four weeks—”

“No, I need one now,” I interrupt. “To take away. I don’t mind what kind.”

“Ah.” His face falls. “These are all for display only, I’m afraid….”

“Please?” I give him my most winsome smile. “You must have one you can sell me. Just one little pram? Some old one you don’t need anymore?”

“Um…right.” He glances nervously at my stomach. “I’ll…see what I can do.”

He bustles away, and I look around at the trendy prams. Suze is swooning over some state-of-the-art double buggy on a special podium of its own, and to my right, a pregnant woman and her husband are pushing an amazing contraption upholstered in black leather, with built-in drink holders.

“I knew you’d like it.” The woman is glowing with pleasure.

“Of course I do.” The man kisses the back of her neck, cradling her bump. “Let’s order it.”

I feel a sudden pang, deep inside. I want to try out prams with Luke. I want to go as a couple, and push prams around and for Luke to kiss me like that.

I mean, I know it’s a hectic time for him and he’s really busy at work. I know he’s never going to be some New Man who knows every brand of diaper and wears a fake pregnancy stomach. But still, I don’t want to have to do everything on my own.

And I bet he’d love that black leather one too. It’s probably even got a BlackBerry holder.

“Hey, Bex.” Suze comes over, pushing the twins with one hand and the state-of-the-art buggy with the other. “Do you think I need a new pram?”

“Er…” I look at the twins. “Isn’t that double buggy quite new?”

“Yes, but, I mean, this one’s really maneuverable. It would be really practical! I think I should get it. I mean, you can’t have too many prams, can you?”

There’s a kind of lust in her eyes. Since when did Suze become such a pramaholic?

“Definitely,” I say. “Maybe I should get it too!”

“Yes!” says Suze in delight. “Then we’d be matching! Have a go!” She hands it to me and I push it about for a bit. It is pretty cool, I have to say.

“I love the squidgy handles,” I say, squeezing them.

“Me too! And the cool wheel design.”

This is just how we used to be in clothes shops together. God, I never thought I’d get as excited by a pushchair as I do about a dress.

“Madam?” The assistant is back. “Here we are. I can let you buy this model today. Seventy pounds.”