Celebrity Shopper (39 page)

If the glamorous fashion mecca, The Store, where Annie had once reigned on the second floor as Head Personal Shopper, had been retail heaven, this service station had to be retail hell.

Who made the stock decisions here? Someone who had never been to another shop before? Annie cast her eye over the terrible joke mugs next to the boxes of Kendal mint cake, the hideous cuddly kittens, the Abba DVD box sets and the England football strips. Who shopped here? Who decided that these were good things to buy?

There were even bunches of fake flowers – who bought those? Who thought: I know, I’ll give my wife / girlfriend / auntie / grannie/ mum a lovely bunch of fake flowers?

‘I don’t think you’re going to find anything to burn your money on in here, babes,’ Annie told her son.

Owen saw it first – well, he saw the label; he didn’t register what it was attached to, he just saw a photograph of his mother sticking out from one of the shelves and instinctively moved in for a closer look.

Only a split second behind him, Annie saw it too. But she saw the whole package and understood at once what this was.

‘Oh no!’ she gasped. ‘It can’t be … oh NO!’

Owen’s hand was already on the label with the photograph; he tugged at it to understand more.

A hideous, bright, shiny pink handbag slid out into his hands. It was so plasticky and stiff, it didn’t yield to his touch in any way at all. It smelled like a new Barbie in her new box. It did in fact look like some sort of Barbie carry-case.

Annie wanted to snatch it out of his hands but she couldn’t bring herself to touch it.

Owen held the label between his fingers and read out:

‘ “The Annie Bag. TV’s Annie Valentine says: ‘Think pink, you foxy girl.’ Made in Taiwan. 100% polypropylene, £6.99.” ’

‘Oh my God,’ was Annie’s whispered reaction, ‘I can’t believe this. How has this happened? I mean I saw a drawing … it looked fine in the drawing.’

Annie looked at the shelf. There were four Annie Bags –
Annie Bags? Could it get more hideous?
– in there. Should she buy them all? Then at least they would be out of here – but what if there were more in the back? And there must be many, many more in service stations up and down the motorway, in terrible tat-filled gift shops up and down the country. This was hideous! Horrible! It had to be stopped.

She stuffed an Icy gum into her mouth and tried to blink away the tears. Hadn’t Tamsin warned her to leave the tie-ins alone? This was the worst. This was total humiliation.

Bedtime Billie:

Fairy-print pyjamas (The White Company)
Pink bobbles for plaits (Boots)
Spritz of rose water (Neal’s Yard)
Bunny slippers (a present)
Total est. cost: £45

‘Awwww!’

Dinah ushered Annie into her little flat, poured her a glass of wine and made her sit down on the sofa.

Dinah’s daughter Billie sat down on the sofa beside her auntie and tucked in under her arm.

‘Hello, baby,’ Annie said, kissing Billie on the nose, ‘you’re in your nightie already.’

‘I know, it’s ten minutes past my bedtime,’ Billie informed her with a cheeky smile which showed her huge front teeth already halfway grown in.

Billie didn’t look like a chubby-faced little girl any more, she suddenly looked older and Annie felt the stab of panic at how quickly time passed and children grew up. It was
almost as if you turned your head for a few minutes and when you looked back, they’d sprouted up another bit. She noticed it much more with Billie, whom she saw only every few weeks, than with her own children.

‘Very nice of you to fit me in after how many hours of filming?’ Dinah asked.

‘Ten and a half,’ Annie replied and sprawled across the upholstery. ‘I’m cream-crackered, but a sip or two of this and I’ll be feeling much better. So show me the dress!’

‘It’s not finished yet,’ Dinah protested.

‘I know but I’m desperate to see it. Do you love it?’ Annie asked Billie.

Billie laughed and nodded her head.

‘Are you going to look totally unbelievably fantastic for Auntie Annie’s wedding?’

‘Yes,’ Billie confirmed.

‘Auntie Annie’s wedding,’ Dinah repeated, ‘I can’t believe it! I still can’t believe it. It is so great. Have you got a dress yet?’

‘No. I’ve got some time in the diary though, to go trying … and I’ve been doing just a little bit of research.’

‘I bet you have.’ Dinah turned and went out of the room to fetch the bridesmaid’s dress that she’d been working on.

Annie had given her bridal party a simple brief: they could wear whatever they wanted to wear, as long as it was pink. Any style of outfit; any shade of pink. She wasn’t going to make everyone line up in identical dresses looking like a bad assortment of shop dummies.

Dinah walked into the room holding a pale pink froth of chiffon in her hands; she shook it out so Annie could see the delicate little bell sleeves, the careful rows of beading and all the lovely little details Dinah was so busy making for her darling little girl.

‘Oh my goodness, that is absolutely beautiful, you’re doing such an amazing job. Isn’t your mummy so clever?’ Annie directed at Billie.

Billie nodded and smiled. ‘I chose the material and the beads,’ she pointed out.

‘I know you did, you are so, so good at fashion, Billie. You’re going to come and work for Auntie Annie one day, aren’t you?’

Billie nodded proudly.

‘Will you make Lana a dress?’ was Annie’s next question. ‘She’s in a total tizz, doesn’t know what she wants. She definitely doesn’t want to wear pink, in any shade at all … which I’m trying to be OK with. Instead, she wants to wear black.
Black?
I’ve told her everyone will think she disapproves if she turns up in black.’

‘Oh dear,’ Dinah sympathized, ‘that is a little tricky.’

‘She asked Ed if he would mind and he’s told her as long as she’s there, she can turn up in tartan pyjamas if she wants to.’

‘Well, that’s nice …’

‘But not very helpful.’

‘Maybe if I take her to a fabric shop,’ Dinah suggested, ‘she might see something she likes that isn’t too heavy.’

‘Even a steely grey or a blue,’ Annie suggested. ‘She always looks brilliant in blue.’

‘Roddy’s eyes,’ Dinah pointed out.

‘Penny’s going to come. Have I told you that?’ Annie said in response to this comment.

‘Is she?’ Dinah understood the mixed emotions at once.

Penny was Roddy’s mother. When Roddy was alive, she had been close to Annie and her children. But after his death, she’d decided to move to France, so now they only saw her once or twice a year. Each and every visit was very emotional.

‘Have you spoken to her?’ Dinah asked.

‘Yes – on the phone,’ Annie replied. ‘She sounds good. She’s really pleased to be invited and be part of it. Missing her grandchildren.’

‘Your wedding’s going to be a big thing,’ Dinah sympathized. ‘C’mon, Billie, bedtime.’

‘Awwww!’ came the complaint.

‘Sit!’ Annie patted the cushion beside her when Dinah came back into the room after putting Billie to bed. ‘I take it Bryan’s working late?’

Dinah shook her head. ‘Thursday night is now squash night. He plays with a friend and they treat themselves to one beer afterwards. Welcome to middle age.’

Annie gave a little grimace. ‘How’s your whole gym and personal trainer thing coming on?’ Dinah asked, trying to suppress the smile that the thought of Annie in any sort of gym situation brought on.

‘Just shut up,’ was Annie’s response. ‘My viewers like me real. They don’t want another aerobicized babe preaching to them from the small screen. Tamsin agrees.’

Dinah leaned back in her chair. ‘Quite right.’

‘But what with wedding dress angst, I’ve done a bit and the gut is receding.’

‘Good,’ Dinah encouraged.

For a moment there was a comfortable silence between them; then they both started talking again at once.

‘Have—’ Annie began.

‘The—’ Dinah started. ‘You first,’ she insisted.

‘Well, I was just wondering if you’d thought about making bridesmaids’ dresses – you know, for a living,’ Annie said. ‘You’re brilliant and there must be so many brides in north London who’d love a really chi-chi, specialized service.’

‘Oh no.’ Dinah dismissed the idea. ‘I really miss going to work, being somewhere else and having the company.’

‘But when you’re well known for bespoke bridesmaids’ dresses, you hire a little premises, you employ some lovely other people and all those problems are solved,’ Annie was quick to point out.

‘Annie the plannie!’ Dinah laughed. ‘Did you know that’s what Nic and I call you? You’ve always got a plan.’

‘Well, I want everyone to enjoy life, live life, grab it by the balls. I don’t like the thought of you sitting about at home feeling sad and not having enough cash. And what about trying for babies again?’ Annie asked gently. ‘You’ve not said anything for a while. You know that you are supposed to come to me and off-load any time. Sound me out about anything.’

Dinah took hold of Annie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘except when you’re so busy you put me on hold, cut me off and then can’t find the time to call me back for days.’

‘Sorry,’ Annie told her.

‘Actually I do have a plan,’ Dinah began. ‘I’m not doing any more IVF. I can’t take it. Not physically or emotionally …’

Annie squeezed Dinah’s hand hard.

‘But,’ Dinah went on, feeling her voice choke a little, ‘I have a plan which involves employment, filling the baby shaped hole in my life … and you.’

Annie gazed at her with a puzzled look on her face.

‘You know Ed’s going back to work …?’ Dinah said, hoping Annie would catch on.

‘Yes?’ Annie was still in the dark.

‘You’ll need childcare and I think you should hire me.’

Annie’s eyebrows shot up into her hair: ‘Would you like to do it?’ she asked, thrilled at the idea.

‘Yeah, I’d totally, totally love to. You’ll have to pay me the going rate, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ Annie agreed.

‘But I think I’d be excellent.’

‘So do I. You’re a much better mother than me.’

‘Don’t say that!’ Dinah protested. ‘Your kids are all fantastic and they think the world of you.’

‘And Billie is brilliant,’ Annie added quickly.

It was always so lovely to have someone tell you how fantastic your children were and what a good job you were doing. It was what sisters were for. Well, one of the many, many things sisters were for.

Once they had excitedly talked the nanny plan through, Dinah braced herself for a change of subject.

‘Have you invited Mick to your wedding?’ she asked her sister bravely, knowing perfectly well this was a difficult subject for Annie.

A sort of garrumphing harrumphing noise came from Annie’s direction.

‘Maybe you should speak to Mum about it,’ Dinah added. ‘If she wants him there …’

There was more garrumphing and harrumphing. ‘I really do think he wants to get to know us again,’ Dinah said gently.

‘Get to know us at all,’ Annie corrected her. ‘Did he ever really know us before? All I know about him, I read in
Pssst!
’

‘Luckily, he didn’t say much to them. He did sound quite sorry about it all, though. Well, you’re up at Mum’s this weekend,’ Dinah added. ‘I bet he’ll come round, it sounds as if he likes to pop round once a day to check up on her. And you have to admit that is a good thing.’

‘She has Stefano,’ Annie pointed out, ‘and her neighbours, and one of us every weekend. It’s not as if she needs Mick.’

‘I think she likes Mick pottering about. He helps her in the garden; they drink vast buckets of tea and have a little reminisce about the time they spent travelling together. I think that was their happy time. Before any of us turned up.’

‘Yeah. He was a rubbish dad.’

‘He was,’ Dinah agreed. ‘Maybe we’ll hear more about why one day.’

‘D’you think he’s got a Thai bride somewhere? I keep expecting some teeny little oriental woman to pop out of the woodwork. He looks the type: Captain Mick. I mean he was so completely, unrelentingly unfaithful to Mum … you remember all the things we only found out about once we were teenagers. After a dad like that in our lives it’s a blooming miracle we all ended up with such good men,’ Annie pointed out.

‘Well, Mum’s never found anyone else and Nic married a stinker first time round,’ Dinah pointed out. ‘Plus, for some reason I can never understand, you still don’t like Bryan.’

‘Oh …’ Annie felt caught out, like a rabbit in the headlights. ‘I used to not like him. But … I’m mellowing, I’m actually really quite liking him now.’ She wanted Dinah to know this was the truth. ‘I’m seeing his many qualities. In another fifteen years or so I’ll love him. It’s just jealousy,’ she added. ‘You’re my best friend and I don’t like to share.’