Shopaholic and Sister
Page 49“Neither did I! We’re long-lost sisters, aren’t we, Jess?” I put an arm round her.
“Half sisters,” corrects Jess, a little stiffly.
“Georgina!” Sandra is calling to the back of the shop. “Georgina, you have to come out here! You won’t believe it! Becky Bloomwood’s here — and she’s got a sister! There are two of them!”
A curtain swishes back and Georgina, the owner of the shop, comes out. She’s in her fifties, with slate-gray hair and the most amazing turquoise eyes. She’s wearing a velvet tunic top with pencil-thin black trousers and she’s holding a fountain pen. Her eyes sparkle when she sees me and Jess.
“Two Bloomwood sisters,” she says softly. “Well. What a wonderful thing.”
She exchanges looks with the assistants.
“We’ll reserve two fitting rooms,” says Sandra promptly.
“If there aren’t enough, we can always share a fitting room, can’t we, Jess!” I say.
“I’m sorry?” Jess looks startled.
“We’re sisters!” I give her an affectionate squeeze. “We shouldn’t be shy with each other!”
“I told you this was a nice place!” I say happily to Jess. “So… let’s start here!”
I head over to a rack full of delicious-looking tops and start leafing through the hangers. “Isn’t this gorgeous?” I pull out a pink T-shirt with a little butterfly motif. “And this one with the daisy would really suit you!”
“Do you want to try them?” says Sandra. “I can pop them in the fitting rooms for you.”
“Yes, please!” I hand them over and smile at Jess.
But she doesn’t smile back. In fact, she hasn’t moved from the spot.
I suppose it can be a bit weird, shopping for the first time with someone new. Sometimes it just clicks straightaway, like when I went shopping for the first time with Suze and we both reached for the same Lulu Guinness makeup bag simultaneously. But sometimes it can be a bit awkward, not knowing what each other’s tastes are yet… and you keep trying different things and asking “Do you like this? Or this?”
I think Jess might need a bit of encouragement.
“These skirts are fabulous!” I say, going over to another rack, which is filled with evening wear. “This black one with the netting would look amazing on you!” I take it down and hold it up against Jess. She reaches for the price tag, looks at it, and goes pale.
“I can’t believe these prices,” she murmurs.
“And the skirt?” says Sandra, popping up behind us.
“Yes, please! And I’ll try it in the gray… ooh, and the pink!” I add, suddenly noticing a rose-colored skirt hiding at the back.
Twenty minutes later we’ve been round the whole shop and two piles of clothes are waiting for us in the fitting rooms at the back. Jess hasn’t spoken much. In fact, she hasn’t spoken at all. But I’ve made up for it, picking out all the clothes I think would look great on her, and adding them to the pile.
“OK!” I say, exhilarated. “Let’s go and try them on! I bet you look fantastic in that pink skirt! You should put it with the off-the-shoulder top, and maybe—”
“I’m not going to try anything on,” says Jess. She shoves her hands in her pockets and leans against a patch of empty wall.
I can’t have heard her correctly.
“What did you say?”
“I’m not going to try anything on.” She nods toward the fitting rooms. “But you go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
Did I miss something?
“I don’t need any new clothes,” replies Jess.
Now I’m utterly baffled. Across the shop, I’m aware of the assistants exchanging bewildered glances.
“You must need something!” I say. “A T-shirt… a pair of trousers…”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Don’t you even want to try on one of those gorgeous tops?” I hold up a fabulous little Juicy T-shirt encouragingly. “Just to see what they look like on?”
“I’m not going to buy them.” Jess shrugs. “So what’s the point?”
“It’s on me!” I say, suddenly realizing. “You do know this is all my treat?”
“I don’t want to waste your money. Don’t let me stop you, though,” she adds. 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">