Sophie Kinsella's Shopaholic 5-Book Bundle (115 page)

“Don’t be silly!” I say at once. “You must go. We don’t want to mess up your day.”

There’s a pause.

“Are you sure?” says Mum.

She wasn’t supposed to say that. She was supposed to say, “How could my precious daughter mess up my day?”

“Of course!” I say, in overbright tones. “You go to your lunch party and we’ll have a proper chat later.”

“Well, OK,” says Mum. “If you’re sure.”

“I’ll pop over and get ready,” says Janice. “Lovely to see you back, Becky!”

As she disappears through the kitchen door I look at Dad, who’s still staring out the window, brooding.

“Are you OK, Dad?” I say. “You’ve been really quiet.”

“Sorry,” he says, turning round with a quick smile. “I’m just a little distracted at the moment. Thinking about . . . a golf match I’ve got next week. Very important.” He mimes playing a putt.

“Right,” I say, trying to sound cheerful.

But inside I feel more and more uneasy. He’s not really thinking about golf. Why is he so cagey?

What is going on?

“So . . .” I say lightly. “Who was that I saw you with earlier? That woman you were with.”

It’s like I’ve let off a gunshot or something. Mum and Dad are both paralyzed. I can see their eyes darting toward each other, then looking away again. They both look totally panic-stricken.

“Woman?” says Mum at last. “I didn’t . . .” She looks at Dad. “Did you see a woman, Brian?”

“Maybe Becky means . . . that passerby,” he says in a stilted tone.

“That’s right!” exclaims Mum in her theatrical voice again. “There was a woman just passing by on the street. A stranger. That must have been it, love.”

“Right. Of course.”

I try to smile, but inside I feel a bit sick. Are Mum and Dad
lying
to me?

“Well . . . you go off to your lunch party!” I say. “Have a great time!”

As the front door slams I feel like bursting into tears. I was
so
looking forward to today. But now I almost wish we’d never come back. No one seems particularly excited to see us. My rare, exotic treasure isn’t exotic
or
rare. And why are Mum and Dad being so weird?

“Do you want another cup of coffee?” asks Luke.

“No, thanks.” I scuff my foot on the kitchen floor.

“Are you OK, Becky?”

“No,” I admit in a small voice. “Not really. Coming home isn’t like I thought it would be.”

“Come here.” Luke holds out his arms and I nestle into his chest. “What were you expecting? That they would drop everything and throw a party?”

“No! Of course not!” I look up and meet Luke’s eye. “Well . . . maybe. Kind of. We’ve been away all this time and it’s like . . . we just popped out to the shops!”

“It was always going to be a gamble, surprising everyone,” he says reasonably. “They weren’t expecting us for another two months. It’s no wonder they’re a bit thrown.”

“I know. But it’s not just that.” I take a deep breath. “Luke—do you think Mum and Dad are . . . hiding something?”

“Yes,” says Luke.

“Yes?”

I’m gobsmacked. I was expecting him to say, “Becky, you’re imagining things,” like he usually does.

“There’s certainly something going on.” Luke pauses. “And I think I know what it might be.”

“What?” I stare at him, agog.

“That woman who was with them. The one they wouldn’t tell us about? I reckon she’s an estate agent. I think they’re considering moving.”

“Moving?” I echo in dismay. “Why would they do that? This is a lovely house! It’s perfect!”

“It is a bit big for them now that you’ve gone. . . .”

“But why on earth wouldn’t they tell me?” My voice rises in distress. “I’m their daughter! I’m their only child! They should confide in me!”

“Maybe they thought you might get upset.” Luke suggests.

“I wouldn’t get upset!” I exclaim indignantly.

Abruptly I realize I
am
upset.

“Well, OK, maybe I would. But still, I can’t believe they’d keep it a secret!”

I break away from Luke’s arms and walk over to the window. I can’t bear the idea of Mum and Dad selling this place. My eyes sweep over the garden in sudden nostalgia. They
can’t
leave this garden. They just
can’t
. This is where I learned to walk. This is where Luke and I got
married
.

Suddenly my attention is caught by the sight of Tom Webster in the garden next door. He’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that says
MY WIFE LEFT ME AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT
and is struggling to carry the hugest plank of wood I’ve ever seen.

Blimey. He looks quite ferocious.

“It may not be that,” Luke is saying behind me. “I may be wrong.”

“You’re not wrong.” I turn round miserably. “It has to be that. What else could it be?”

“Well . . . don’t think about it. Come on. It’s the christening tomorrow. You’ll see Suze!”

“Yes.” I feel my spirits rise. “That’s true.”

Luke’s right. Maybe today hasn’t gone quite according to plan—but tomorrow will be fantastic. I’ll be reunited with Suze again, my best, most closest friend in the whole entire world. I just can’t
wait
.

Five

The twins’ christening is being held at Suze’s parents’ house in Hampshire, because they’ve been living there while the east wing of Tarquin’s Scottish castle is being rebuilt. They would have used his house in Pembrokeshire, but at the moment it’s being lived in by some distant cousins. And his house in Sussex is being used as a location for a Jane Austen film.

This is what Suze’s family is like. Nobody has just one house.

As we drive down the familiar tree-lined avenue I’m jumping with excitement. The stone house looks as huge and grand as ever with its pillared entrance, although some of the ivy has been pruned away from the front. Two stone griffins stand like sentries by the front door, and there are flower garlands around their heads, just like there were on Suze’s wedding day.

“Hurry up!” I say as Luke maneuvers the car into a parking space. He hasn’t even turned off the engine before I’m leaping out of the car and sprinting over the gravel toward the house. Now that I’m here, I just can’t wait to see Suze!

The heavy front door is ajar and I push it open. Inside, the huge flagstone hall is decorated with the most amazing arrangements of lilies. A pair of waiters are striding through with champagne glasses on a tray. And on the ancient chair by the fireplace is a discarded saddle. Nothing’s changed here, then.

The waiters disappear down a corridor, and I’m left alone. Walking over the flagstones, I suddenly feel a bit nervous. What if Suze has gone all weird, like my parents?

And then I spot her through an open door, standing in the drawing room. Her blond hair is up in a chignon and she’s wearing a gorgeous print wrap dress. And in her arms is a tiny baby dressed in a long christening robe. Wow. That must be one of the twins.

Tarquin is standing nearby holding a second baby, which is also in a christening robe. And although he’s wearing the most ancient suit in the world, he’s actually looking pretty good! Not quite as . . . stoaty. It occurs to me that maybe Tarquin will get better looking the older he gets. When he’s fifty he’ll probably be a sex god!

A blond-haired toddler is clutching his leg and, as I watch, Tarquin gently prizes his fingers off.

“Ernie,” he says patiently.

Ernie?
I feel an almighty shock. My godson, Ernest? But last time I saw him he was a tiny little baby.

“Wilfie looks like a girl!” Suze is saying to Tarquin, her brow crumpled in that familiar way. “And Clementine looks like a boy!”

“My sweet, they both look exactly like babies in christening robes,” says Tarquin.

“What if they’re both gay?” Suze is looking anxiously at Tarquin. “What if their hormones got mixed up when they were in the womb?”

“They’re fine!”

I feel ridiculously shy, hovering by the door. I don’t want to interrupt. They look like a family. They
are
a family.

“What’s the time?” Suze tries to consult her watch, but Ernie is now clinging to her arm, trying to jump up. “Ernie, sweetheart, I need to do my lipstick! Leave Mummy’s arm alone. . . . Can you take him for a sec, Tarkie?”

“Let me just put Clemmie down somewhere. . . .” Tarquin starts looking around the room as though a cot might magically spring up out of nowhere.

“I’ll take her if you like,” I say, my voice catching in my throat.

Suze whips round.

“Bex?” Her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.
“Bex?”

“We’re back!” I try to sound cool. “Surprise!”

“Oh my God! Oh my
God
!”

Suze thrusts the baby at Tarquin, who manfully does a kind of juggling act with the two of them. She races toward me and throws her arms around my neck.

“Bex! Mrs. Brandon!”

“Mrs. Cleath-Stuart!” I return, feeling tears prick at my eyes. I knew Suze wouldn’t have changed. I
knew
it.

“I can’t believe you’re back!” Suze’s face is glowing. “Tell me all about your honeymoon! Tell me every single thing you—” She breaks off suddenly, staring at my bag. “Oh my God,” she breathes. “Is that a
real
Angel bag?”

Ha! You see? People who know, know.

“Of course it is.” I swing it nonchalantly on my arm. “Just a little souvenir from Milan. Er . . . I wouldn’t mention it in front of Luke, though,” I add, lowering my voice. “He doesn’t exactly know about it.”

“Bex!” says Suze half reprovingly, half laughing. “He’s your husband!”

“Exactly.” I meet her eye, and we both start giggling.

God, it’s like I never left.

“So, how’s married life?” asks Suze.

“It’s perfect.” I sigh happily. “Totally blissful. Well, you know. Like couples are on their honeymoon!”

“I was pregnant on our honeymoon.” Suze looks a bit discomfited. She reaches out and strokes the Angel bag in awe. “I didn’t even know you were going to Milan! Where else did you go?”

“We went everywhere! All over the world!”

“Did you go to the ancient shrine of Mahakala?” A booming voice comes from the doorway. I swivel round to see Suze’s mother, Caroline, coming into the room. She’s dressed in the strangest dress I’ve ever seen, made out of what looks like pea green canvas, accessorized with maroon tights and clumpy suede boots.

I have never seen Caroline in a normal outfit, ever.

“Yes!” I say in delight. “We did!”

It was Caroline who got me into the idea of traveling in the first place, when she told me her best friend in the world was a Bolivian peasant.

“The ancient Incan city of Ollantaytambo?”

“We stayed there!”

Caroline’s eyes gleam as though I’ve passed the test, and I feel a glow of pride. I am a genuine traveler! I won’t add that we were in the five-star spa.

“Now, where’s my hat?” She frowns, looking around. “I’ve mislaid it.”

“The African headdress one?” says Suze, flushing. “Er . . . I don’t know!”

I give her a piercing look. She’s hidden her mum’s hat, I know it.

“Caro
line
!” Suze’s father’s voice comes resounding through the air, and the next moment he’s coming into the hall, dressed in a paisley silk dressing gown over a pair of pin-striped trousers. His hair is white and bushy, and his nose has become a lot redder in the year since I last saw him. In fact, it’s practically purple.

“Hello, Sir Gilbert,” I begin politely. “How are you—”

“Caroline!” he repeats, totally ignoring me. “Fella says we could have a lion in the front paddock. He’ll ship it over, do all the paperwork. What about it?” Sir Gilbert’s bright blue eyes flash with excitement. “That’d add a bit of spice to life, eh?” He gives a sudden lionlike roar, and I jump.

“A
lion
?” Suze says in horror. “Daddy, you can’t have a lion here! It’ll eat the babies!”

“Gilbert, the lion belongs in the wild.” Caroline looks thunderous. “Free to roam its natural world. Anyone who has crossed the Serengeti Plain and seen a pride feeding at dawn . . .”

“Why does your dad want a lion?” I murmur to Suze as Caroline continues.

“He wants to start a zoo and open it to the public,” Suze mutters back. “It’s one of his mad schemes. Like the tortoises, remember?”

About four years ago, when Suze and I were sharing a flat in London, her father decided to become a tortoise breeder, and it was
us
who had to take a delivery of twenty baby tortoises and look after them all weekend.

“The noble animal looked at me,” Caroline is declaiming momentously, “and a deep understanding seemed to pass between us. . . .”

“You can look at my lion if you like,” says Sir Gilbert. “In its cage.” He bellows with laughter. “Eh?”

He looks so pleased with himself, and Caroline looks so disapproving, I can’t help a giggle. I just love Suze’s family. God, it’s good to be back.

“Maybe I’ll go over to the church,” I say, glancing at my watch. “I’ll see you later . . .”

“That reminds me!” Caroline breaks off. “I saw the vicar and he was saying some rubbish about warm water for the baptism. I said absolutely not! A bit of cold water’ll do these infants the power of good.”

“Mummy!” wails Suze. “I especially
asked
for warm water! They’re still so tiny!”

“Nonsense!” booms Caroline. “At their age, you were swimming in the lake! At the age of six months you were trekking with me up the Tsodilo Hills of Botswana. No warm water there!”

Suze gives me a despairing look, and I grin back sympathetically.

“I’d better go,” she says. “Bex, I’ll see you afterwards. You will stay a couple of days, won’t you?”

“We’d love to!” I say happily.

“Oh, and you
must
meet Lulu!” she adds, halfway out the door.

“Who’s Lulu?” I call back, but she doesn’t hear.

Oh, well. I’ll soon find out. It’s probably her new horse, or something.

I find Luke outside, where a tented walkway has been set up between the house and the church, just like at Suze’s wedding. As we start walking along the matting, I can’t help feeling a tingle of nostalgia. It was here that we first talked about getting married, in a roundabout sort of way. And then Luke proposed.

And now here we are. Married for nearly a year!

I hear footsteps coming up behind and look round to see Tarquin hurrying along the matting, holding a baby.

“Hi, Tarkie!” I say as he joins us. “So . . . which twin is this?”

“This one is Clementine,” says Tarquin, beaming. “Our little Clemmie.”

I peer more closely, and try to hide my surprise. Blimey. Suze is right. She does look like a boy.

“She’s beautiful!” I say quickly. “Absolutely gorgeous!”

I’m trying to think of something to say which will emphasize her very
feminine
qualities, when there’s a faint sound from up above. A kind of
chopper-chopper-chopper
. Now it’s getting louder. I look up, and to my astonishment, a huge black helicopter is approaching. In fact . . . it’s landing, on the field behind the house.

“Do you have a friend with a helicopter?” I say, amazed.

“Um . . . actually, that’s mine,” says Tarquin bashfully. “Lent it to a friend for a spin.”

Tarquin has a
helicopter
?

“Bought it last year,” he explains. “
The Ring
was on at Covent Garden, right in the middle of lambing season. Huge dilemma. I didn’t want to miss either.”

“Er . . . absolutely!” I nod, as if I really can sympathize.

Which, in a way, I can. If I was given the choice of watching sheep give birth in freezing-cold fields or listening to an endless Wagner opera . . . I’d buy a helicopter too. To escape.

By now we’ve arrived at the church, which is bustling with guests. Luke and I slip into a pew near the back, and I look around at all Suze’s relations. There’s Tarquin’s dad, wearing an aubergine-colored smoking jacket, and there’s Fenella, Tarquin’s sister. She’s dressed in cream and is shrieking excitedly at some girl with blond hair I don’t recognize.

“Who’s that, Agnes?” comes a piercing voice behind me. I glance round, and a woman with gray hair and a gigantic ruby brooch is peering at the blond girl too, through a lorgnette.

“That’s Fenella, dear!” says the woman in blue sitting next to her.

“I don’t mean Fenella! I mean the other girl, talking to her.”

“D’you mean Lulu? That’s Lulu Hetherington.”

I raise my head in surprise. So. Lulu isn’t a horse. She’s a girl.

Actually, she does look quite like a horse. She’s very thin and rangy, like Suze, and wearing a pink tweed suit. She laughs at something Fenella says—and she’s got one of those smiles which show all her teeth and gums.

“She’s a godmother,” Agnes is saying. “
Super
girl. She’s Susan’s best friend!”

What?

I look up, taken aback. That’s ridiculous.
I’m
Suze’s best friend. Everyone knows that.

“Lulu moved into the village six months ago and they’ve become quite inseparable!” Agnes continues. “We see them out riding together every day. She’s so like dear Susan. Just look at the two of them together!”

Suze has appeared at the front of the church, holding Wilfrid. I suppose there is a superficial likeness between her and Lulu. They’re both tall and blond. They’ve both got their hair in the same chignon. Suze is talking to Lulu, her face shining with animation, and as I watch, they both burst into peals of laughter.

“And of course they have so much in common!” Agnes’s voice cuts through the air behind me. “What with the horses and the children . . . they’re
wonderful
support for each other.”

“Every girl needs a best friend,” says the other woman wisely.

She breaks off as the organ starts playing. The congregation stands up and I reach for my service sheet along with everyone else. But I can’t read a word. I’m too jumbled up inside.

After the service is over, we all head back to the house, where a string quartet is playing in the hall and waiters are circulating with drinks. Luke is immediately accosted by some friend of Tarquin’s who knows him through business, and I stand for a while on my own, brooding on what I heard in the church.

“Bex!” I wheel round in relief as I hear Suze’s voice behind me.

“Suze!” I beam at her. “That was great!”

Just seeing Suze’s friendly face sweeps all my worries away.
Of course
we’re still best friends!

I have to remember that I’ve been away for a long time, so Suze had to make friends with people locally or whatever. But the point is, I’m back now!

“Suze, let’s go shopping tomorrow!” I say impulsively. “We can go up to London . . . I’ll help you with the babies . . .”

“Bex, I can’t.” Her brow wrinkles. “I promised Lulu I’d go riding tomorrow morning.”

For a moment I don’t know what to say. Couldn’t she cancel riding? She always rides, and I’ve only just come home.

“Oh, right.” I try to smile. “Well . . . no problem. We’ll do it another time!”

The baby in Suze’s arms has started to wail lustily and she pulls a face.

“I’ve got to go and feed them now. But then I
must
introduce you to Lulu. You two will love each other!”

“I’m sure we will!” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “See you later!”

I watch as Suze disappears into the library.