Shopaholic and Sister

Which, to be honest, has been a bit of a blow. I thought I’d be fighting off offers. I even had this little fantasy where all the head personal shoppers at Harrods and Harvey Nichols and Selfridges took me out to lunch and gave me free clothes to persuade me to join them.

As calmly as I can, I pull the letter out of the envelope. This one is from a new shop called The Look, which hasn’t even opened yet. It’s going to be a huge new store just up from Oxford Street, full of great clothes and accessories, and the gimmick is that there will be loads of personal shoppers available to help you pull your look together. They want someone to run and train the team, and had already heard about me from their contact in New York. I went to see them a couple of days ago and I thought I did OK, but…

“Oh my God!” I look up in disbelief. “I got it! They want me!”

“Fantastic!” Luke’s face creases in a smile. “Congratulations!” He puts an arm round me and gives me a kiss.

“Except… I won’t be needed for three months,” I say, reading farther down. “That’s when the store opens.” I put the letter down and look at him. “Three whole months. That’s quite a long time not to have a job.”

Or any money, I’m thinking.

“I’m sure you’ll find something to do,” says Luke cheerfully. “Some project or other. You’ll have plenty to keep you busy.”

The buzzer suddenly goes in the hall and we look at each other.

“That must be the delivery people!” I say, feeling my spirits rise. “Let’s go down!”

Luke’s penthouse has its own lift right to the front door, which is just so cool!

“So, where shall we tell them to put everything?” he says as he presses the ground-floor button.

“I thought we could pile it all up in the corner of the sitting room,” I suggest. “Behind the door. Then I can sort it out while you’re at work.”

Luke nods. “Good idea.”

I suddenly remember the twenty Chinese silk dressing gowns. Maybe I’ll be able to smuggle them in without Luke’s seeing.

“And if there was any overspill,” I add casually, “we could always put it in the second bedroom.”

“Overspill?” Luke frowns. “Becky, how much stuff are you expecting?”

“Not that much!” I say quickly. “Hardly anything! I just meant if they’ve packed things in really huge boxes or something. That’s all.”

Luke looks a bit suspicious, and I turn away, pretending to be adjusting my watch strap. Now the moment’s nearly here, I’m feeling just the odd tiny qualm.

I kind of wish I’d told him about the wooden giraffes. Should I quickly confess?

No. It doesn’t matter. It’ll be fine. Luke’s flat is huge. I mean, it’s vast! He’ll never notice a few extra things.

We push open the double doors of Luke’s building and walk out, to see a man in jeans, waiting on the side of the road by a small van.

“Mr. Brandon?” he says, looking up.

I feel a small whoosh of relief. I knew we hadn’t bought that much stuff. I mean, just look at that van. It’s tiny!

“Yes. That’s me.” Luke holds out his hand, with a pleasant smile.

“Any idea where we can park the lorries?” The man scratches his head. “Only we’re in a no-parking zone round the corner.”

“Lorries?” echoes Luke. “What do you mean, ‘lorries’?”

His smile has kind of frozen on his face.

“We’ve got two lorries to unload. Can we take them into the parking bay there?” The man gestures at the forecourt of the building.

“Of course!” I say quickly, as Luke doesn’t seem able to speak. “Go ahead!”

The man disappears. “So!” I say brightly. “This is fun!”

“Two… lorries?” says Luke.

“It must be a shared load!” I say quickly. “With someone else. I mean, obviously we haven’t bought two lorry-loads of stuff.”

Which is true.

I mean, it’s ridiculous! In ten months, we couldn’t possibly have—

I’m sure we couldn’t have—

Oh God.

There’s a rumbling from round the corner, and a big white lorry appears, closely followed by another. They back into the forecourt of Luke’s building, and there are huge grinding noises as the backs are lowered. Luke and I hurry round and peer into the crowded depths.

What an amazing sight. Each whole lorry is crammed with objects and furniture. Some wrapped in plastic, some in paper, and some barely wrapped at all. As I feast my eyes on all the stuff, I start to feel quite emotional. It’s like seeing a home video of our entire honeymoon. The kilims from Istanbul. The gourds from Peru. And I’d totally forgotten about buying that papoose carrier! 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">