Authors: Sophie Kinsella
‘But what were they all doing at the store at once?’
‘Getting refunds!’ says Mum, as though it’s obvious. ‘Didn’t you know? They’ve started a campaign to reinstate you!’
She hands me a bright-pink, printed piece of paper and I take it in disbelief. Is
this
what Davina was talking about?
BRING BACK BECKY!!!
We, the undersigned, would like to protest at the treatment of our esteemed friend and fashion consultant, Becky Brandon (née Bloomwood).
As a result of her callous and unjustified treatment by The Look we will be
–
Boycotting
the Personal Shopping Department
–
Spreading
the word amongst our friends and contacts, and
–
Unshopping
with immediate effect.
‘Unshopping?’ I look up with a giggle. ‘What does that mean?’
‘They’re returning everything they’ve bought,’ says Mum with satisfaction. ‘Quite right, too. There was a whole line of them, beautifully dressed, all bringing back expensive things, still in their wrappers. All getting the money back on their gold cards. I dread to think how much it was all worth. One woman had three long dresses. Yves Saint whatsit? Five thousand pounds
each
, apparently. Blonde woman from Russia or some such?’
‘Olenka?’ I say in astonishment. ‘Those dresses were special order. She
returned
them?’
‘She threw them down on the counter like this.’ Mum demonstrates with a flamboyant gesture. ‘Quite dramatic, isn’t she?
“Thees
is for Becky and
thees
is for Becky.” Then the manager came down to the department.’ Mum is warming to her tale. ‘I can tell you, he got the heebie-jeebies when he saw how long the queue was. Quite flustered, he was. He said, “Ladies, please reconsider.” Offered them all a free cappuccino. But they laughed at him.’
‘I bet they did!’ I can just imagine Trevor trying to keep control of all my clients. They’re a pretty sassy lot.
‘So if he isn’t on the phone to you apologizing within the day, then I’m a monkey’s uncle,’ says Mum comfortably. ‘From what I heard, you should be claiming from
them
, love.’
‘Wait.’ Suddenly the blood is pulsing in my face. ‘Wait a minute. Mum, I never told you I’d been suspended from work.’
‘I know you didn’t,’ she says equably. ‘I was a bit surprised, I must admit. I mean, I knew it was your day off. I didn’t realize
every
day was your day off now!’ She laughs merrily.
‘So you came here …’ I say disbelievingly, ‘and you knew I’d been suspended and you didn’t say a word?’
‘What’s there to say? You’ll work it out. We do worry about you, Becky. But we’ve got faith in you, too.’ Mum pats my hand. ‘You’ll be all right.’
‘Oh Mum.’ I look from the Valentino to her kind, cosy face, feeling the tears rise again. ‘I can’t believe you bought me a dress.’
‘Well, love.’ She pats my hand again. ‘We’ve had such a super time at The West Place. We wanted to say thank you. Shoes too!’ She nods at a shoe box at the bottom of the wardrobe.
‘Shoes
too
?’ I grab the box.
‘Yes, Cinderella!’ Mum twinkles. ‘I hear even Jess is wearing a lovely new frock for the occasion.’
‘She is
now.’
I roll my eyes.
Jess’s dress has been such a saga. At first she was going to order this drab unbleached cotton shift from the worthy-lentil catalogue. So I said she had to wear something more glam and she got on her high horse and said why should she support throwaway consumerism just for one night? Whereupon I said, ‘I meant you should
borrow
something. All the celebs do it, and it’s
far
more green than buying something out of a catalogue.’ To which she couldn’t find an answer. So she’ll be in an exclusive Danny Kovitz number and there’s no way she can get out of it.
I’m ripping the shoe box open in excitement as my mobile rings.
‘I’ll get it, love.’ Mum reaches over to the chair where my mobile’s lying. ‘It’s …’ She peers more closely at the screen and her mouth drops open. ‘Sage Seymour? Sage Seymour the
actress?’
‘Yes!’ I giggle. ‘Ssh! Be cool!’
I expect Sage will be giving me another update on Luke. Last time she phoned, he was eating a burrito and talking to the choreographer, apparently.
‘Hi Sage! How’s it going?’
‘He’s gone!’ She sounds desperate. ‘I’m so sorry. We’ve lost him.’
‘What?’
I sit back on my heels, a piece of tissue paper trailing from my fingers. ‘But …
how?’
‘He just upped and left. Booked himself a car and went. Didn’t even pick up his mobile from the floor manager. I was in make-up, I had no idea …’
‘How long ago?’
‘Half an hour, maybe?’
Half an
hour?
My pulse is quickening in alarm. ‘So, where’s the car gone? Can you find out?’
‘No! It’s not even one of ours. Apparently he’d been saying he needed to go and the line producer had been promising to get him a car as soon as one was ready, you know, stringing him along … But I guess he couldn’t wait.’
That is so typical of Luke. He can’t just sit still and enjoy being on a movie set like any normal person. He has to organize himself a car and go back to work. Celebrities are
wasted
on him.
‘I need to get back,’ Sage is saying. ‘But Becky, I’m sorry. We fucked up.’ She sounds genuinely apologetic.
‘No! Don’t be silly! You did an amazing job. It’s not
your
fault he left. I’m sure I’ll find him.’
‘Well, let me know how it works out, yeah?’
‘Of course.’ I turn off my phone, breathing hard, and look at Mum. ‘You won’t believe this. Luke’s gone missing. No one knows where he is.’
‘Well, ring him, love! He’ll have his mobile—’
‘He hasn’t
got
a mobile!’ I almost wail. ‘I broke his BlackBerry and he had some crappy substitute which he’s left behind. I don’t know what car company he’s using. I mean, I guess he’s heading back to the office, but I don’t know …’
I feel a drumbeat of panic as the full enormity of this sinks in. What if he’s not on his way to the office? What if he’s coming here? He could stumble on the whole thing before we’re ready.
‘OK.’ I snap into action. ‘We need to warn everybody. I’ll call Bonnie, you tell Janice, we’ll call all the car companies … we’ll track him down.’
Within ten minutes, I’ve got everyone gathered in Janice’s kitchen for an emergency crisis meeting.
It’s all even worse than I thought. Bonnie has just forwarded me an email from Luke, which he sent before he left the studio, using the film’s email account. He told her he wouldn’t be able to get back to the office in time for the company training programme, sent his apologies and told her to have a good weekend.
What the fuck is he
doing?
Where is he
going?
OK, Becky. Stay calm. He’ll turn up.
‘Right,’ I announce to the assembled group. ‘Oxshott, we have a major problem. Luke has gone AWOL. Now, I’ve drawn a map.’ I point to my hastily constructed flip chart. ‘These are the directions he might have gone in from Pinewood Studios. I think we probably can rule out north …’
‘Ooh!’ Suze suddenly exclaims, looking at her phone. ‘Tarkie says one of the Royal Family has seen the YouTube clips and wants to send Luke a happy birthday text. They’re out shooting together,’ she explains bashfully as everyone looks at her, agog.
‘Which member?’ Janice clasps her hands.
‘Not
Prince William!’
‘Tarkie didn’t say. It might be Prince Michael of Kent,’ Suze adds apologetically.
‘Oh.’ Everyone subsides a little in disappointment.
‘Or David Linley?’ Janice perks up. ‘I do love his furniture, but have you
seen
the prices?’
‘Stop it!’ I wave my arms frustratedly. ‘Focus! Who cares about furniture? This is an
emergency
. First, we need a lookout stationed outside, so if Luke comes back here we can head him off. Second, we need to think hard where he might have gone. Third—’
‘Your phone,’ says Mum suddenly. My BlackBerry is vibrating on the table, with a central London number I don’t recognize.
‘It might be him!’ says Dad.
‘Ssh!’
‘Quiet!’
‘Put him on speaker!’
‘No!’
‘Everyone
quiet
!’
It’s as though the terrorist kidnapper is on the line after days of waiting. Everyone goes quiet and watches as I answer.
‘Hello?’
‘Becky?’ Luke’s voice is unmistakable. And relaxed. Doesn’t he
realize
how stressed we’ve all been?
‘Keep him talking!’ hisses Mum as though she’s a federal agent trying to triangulate his position.
‘Hi, Luke! Where are you? At the office?’
That was good. Play completely ignorant.
‘As it happens, no. I’m at the Berkeley Hotel.’ There’s a smile in his voice. ‘And I want to invite you and Minnie to join me for a little birthday celebration. If you’re up for it.’
What-what-what-what-what?
I sink down on to a chair, my legs rubbery, trying to block out all the questioning faces around me.
‘What do you mean?’ I falter at last.
If he has arranged his own birthday party without telling me, I will
murder
him. I mean it.
‘Darling, I could tell you were disappointed last night when I said I’d be at the training progamme,’ he’s saying. ‘I could see it in your face.’
No I wasn’t!
I want to yell.
I wasn’t! You’re all wrong!
‘Oh yes?’ I manage.
‘And it got me thinking. It’s my birthday! Fuck it, we should celebrate. We’ve got through a hell of a year and we deserve a treat. Let’s meet up, the three of us, have some dinner, drink some champagne … then we can put Minnie to bed next door and see about making her a little sibling.’ His voice is as seductive and teasing as I’ve ever heard it. ‘What do you think? I’ve ordered the champagne already.’
I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Any other time, I would die and go to heaven to hear this invitation.
Any other bloody time
.
‘Right,’ I say weakly. ‘Well … that sounds wonderful! Just … hang on a minute …’
I clamp my hand over the phone and look desperately round at everybody.
‘He wants me to come to a hotel room and drink champagne! For his birthday!’
‘But it’s the party!’ says Janice, who is clearly out to get the Most Obvious Comment prize.
‘I
know
it’s the party!’ I say, almost savagely. ‘But how can I say no without looking suspicious?’
‘Do both?’ says Suze. ‘Champagne, celebrate, whatever, whizz back here?’
I think it through frantically.
Champagne. Food. Sex.
We could get it done in … half an hour? Forty minutes max? We’d still be back in good time.
‘Yes.’ I come to a decision. ‘I’ll go up there, play along and bring him back as quickly as I can.’
‘Don’t hang around, love.’ Janice looks anxious.
‘Traffic can get nasty this time of day,’ Martin chips in. ‘I’d grab him and go.’
‘Can I leave Minnie with you, Mum?’
‘Of course, love!’
‘OK.’ I take a deep breath and turn to the phone again, trying to sound as syrupy as possible. ‘Hi Luke. I’ll be there as soon as I can. But without Minnie. Mum’s here and she’s going to babysit. I think we need to be
à deux
, don’t you?’
‘Even better.’ He gives that growly laugh that I love and my insides clench. Why does he have to choose
tonight
to turn into the perfect husband?
Anyway. Whatever. I must get going.
‘I’ll see you soon!’ I say breathlessly. ‘Love you!’
Luke’s booked a suite, and as he opens the door he’s holding a glass of champagne. Low, jazzy music is playing and he’s in a robe. A
robe
.
‘Well, hello there.’ He smiles and bends to kiss me.
Oh God. This is all more extreme than I realized. He’s completely switched gear. His rhythm is slower, his voice is lazier, I haven’t seen him look so relaxed since we were on honeymoon. The suite is amazing, too, with panelled walls and plushy sofas and a massive bed. If this were
any
other time …
‘Hi!’ I pull away. ‘Well, this is a big surprise!’
‘Total impulse.’ Luke grins. ‘In fact, this is your doing,’ he adds over his shoulder as he heads to the cocktail bar.
‘Mine?’
Is he joking?
‘All the times you’ve told me we should relax more, enjoy ourselves, take it easy … you were right. I hope you’re impressed?’
‘Yes,’ I say shrilly. ‘This is fab.’
‘So let’s just kick back. We’ve got all night.’ He hands me a glass and kisses my neck lingeringly. ‘Shall I run a bath? It’s big enough for two.’
A
bath?
How long will that take? I have to nix that idea at once. I have to speed things up. I glance at my watch and feel a twinge of alarm. It’s already later than I thought. We have a party to get to. There is
no time for a bath
.
But then … look at his face. He’ll be crushed. And he’s gone to so much effort and I bet it’s a lovely bath …
We could have a really quick bath. In, out, done.
‘Good idea! I’ll do it!’ I hurry into the sumptuous marble bathroom and whack on the taps.
Oh wow. Asprey toiletries. I can’t help opening the bath oil and smelling it. Mmm.
‘Isn’t this great?’ Luke has come up behind me and wraps his arms around me, firm and strong. ‘Just us, all night long. There’s no rush, no hurry …’
OK, we have
not
got time for any of this ‘all night long’ business.
‘Luke … um … we have to have quick sex.’ I turn round, thinking desperately. ‘We have to have really, really fast, speedy sex because … I want to conceive a boy.’
‘What?’ Luke looks dumbfounded. As well he might, since I’m making this all up as I go along.
‘Yes.’ I nod seriously. ‘I read a book about it, and it said that you have to have sex really fast. No foreplay. Just … boom.’