Shopaholic and Sister
Page 51Jess runs her eyes over the display.
“I don’t really bother much with shoes,” she says. “No one ever notices shoes.”
For a moment my legs feel weak with shock.
No one ever notices shoes?
But… of course! She’s joking! I’m going to have to get used to her dry sense of humor.
“Ohhhh, you!” I say, and give her a friendly push. “Well… I might just pop in and try some on, if you don’t mind?”
If I try on enough pairs, I’m thinking, Jess is bound to join in too.
Except… she doesn’t. Not at the next shop, either. Nor does she try any of the perfumes or makeup at Space.NK. I’m laden with bags, but Jess still doesn’t have one thing. She can’t be enjoying herself. She must think I’m a rubbish sister.
“Do you need any… kitchenware?” I suggest in desperation.
We could buy cool aprons, or some chrome gadgety things… But Jess is shaking her head.
“I get all mine from the discount warehouse. It’s much cheaper than the high street.”
“I don’t need any luggage,” says Jess. “I’ve got my rucksack.”
“Right.”
I’m totally running out of ideas. What else is there? Lamps, maybe? Or… rugs?
Suddenly Jess’s eyes light up.
“Hang on,” she says, sounding more animated than she has all day. “Do you mind if I go in here?”
I stop still. We’re outside a tiny, quite nondescript stationery shop, which I’ve never been into.
“Absolutely!” My words come tumbling out in a whoosh of relief. “Go ahead! Fantastic!”
Stationery! Of course! Why on earth didn’t I think of that before? She’s a student… she writes all the time… that must be her thing!
The shop is so narrow I’m not sure I’ll fit in with all my carrier bags, so I wait outside on the pavement, thrilled she’s finally shown an interest in something. I wonder what she’s buying. Gorgeous notebooks? Or handmade cards? Or maybe some beautiful fountain pen?
I mean, all kudos to her. I’d never even noticed this shop before!
Jess looks blank.
“I didn’t buy anything,” she says.
“But… your carrier bags! What’s in them?”
“Didn’t you see the sign?” She gestures at a handwritten postcard in the window. “They’re giving away used padded envelopes.”
She opens up her carriers to reveal a selection of battered Jiffy bags and a bundle of squashed-up, graying bubble wrap.
“I must have saved at least ten pounds,” she adds with satisfaction. “And they’ll always come in handy.”
I’m speechless.
“Er… fab!” I manage at last. “They’re really gorgeous! I love the… um… labels. So… we’ve both done really well! Let’s go and have a cappuccino!”
There’s a coffee shop round the corner, and as we approach it my spirits begin to rise again. So maybe the shopping hasn’t gone as I imagined, but it doesn’t matter. The point is, here we are, two sisters, coming for a cappuccino and a gossip together! We’ll sit at a lovely marble table, and sip our coffees, and tell each other all about ourselves…
“I brought a flask,” comes Jess’s voice behind me.
“What?” I say faintly.
“We don’t want that overpriced coffee.” She jabs a thumb at the café. “The markup at those places is appalling.”
“But…”
“We can sit on this bench. I’ll just wipe it clean.”
I gaze at her in rising dismay. I cannot have my first-ever coffee with my long-lost sister sitting on some grotty old bench, swigging out of a flask.
“But I want to go into a nice coffee shop!” The words rush out before I can stop them. “And sit at a marble table, and have a proper cappuccino!”
Jess is surveying me with pained disapproval, as though she can’t believe anyone would be so shallow.
“Please?” I say plaintively.
“Oh,” says Jess. “Well, OK.” She closes up her flask. “But you should get into the habit of making your own. You could save hundreds of pounds a year. Just buy a secondhand flask. And you can use coffee grounds at least twice. The flavor’s fine… ” 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">