Authors: Sophie Kinsella
‘Come on, Minnie, Daddy needs to make a little speech.’ Before I can react, Luke is striding into the East Hall. ‘Suze?’ He beckons to her cheerfully as he passes. ‘Could you come in here a moment? And Tarquin?’
‘What’s going on?’ Suze says as she follows us in. ‘What’s Luke doing?’
‘He thinks it was all you,’ I mutter under my breath. ‘You and Tarkie. He thinks you fixed Sir Bernard and paid for all this. Now he wants to say thank you.’
‘You’re joking!’ Suze stops dead, her eyes dark and troubled. ‘But … we didn’t!’
‘I know! But how can I tell him that?’
For a moment we just stare at each other anxiously.
‘Does Luke suspect Elinor had
anything
to do with it?’ says Suze at last.
‘Nothing. He hasn’t mentioned her once.’
He’s mentioned everyone else in the world. All his family. All his friends. He toasted them all in his speech. But not her.
Luke has already bounded up on stage between songs and the lead singer of the band has handed the microphone to him.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, just a moment, if I may?’ Luke’s voice booms around the room. ‘There’ve been many thankyous tonight. But I just want to draw attention to one very, very special couple. They have opened this beautiful house to us, provided us with stunning hospitality … and much,
much
more besides, which I won’t go into here …’ He pauses meaningfully and I can see Tarquin darting a puzzled look at Suze. ‘But please know, Suze and Tarquin, I will never forget what you did. To the Cleath-Stuarts.’ Luke raises his glass, and all the guests on the dance-floor echo him, then break into applause.
Suze is trying to smile charmingly as people turn to her, applauding.
‘I feel terrible,’ she murmurs desperately through her smiles. ‘What about Elinor?’
‘It was her choice,’ I murmur back. ‘There’s nothing we can do.’
I think of EIinor speeding home through the night, shoulders rigid. With no one toasting her, no one smiling at her, no one even giving her a passing thought. And suddenly I make a silent vow to myself.
Luke’ll know one day. He’ll know one day.
‘Give us “New York, New York”!’ someone yells at Luke, and the room breaks into laughter.
‘No chance.’ Luke flashes a smile and hands the microphone back to the lead singer, who immediately counts the band into a new song.
‘Suze, darling.’ Tarquin has made it over to us, looking perplexed. ‘What on earth was Luke—’
‘Just thanking us for being good friends,’ she says brightly. ‘You know.’
‘Ah.’ Tarquin’s brow clears. ‘Generous chap.’ He has an ancient school name-tape poking out of his dinner jacket, I suddenly notice. It says ‘W. F. S. Cleath-Stuart’. Which is his
father
.
‘Tarkie.’ I beckon him over. ‘Piece of fluff.’ I push the name-tape back inside his collar and wink at Suze, who just shakes her head with a rueful grin.
We watch as Luke threads his way slowly through the throng, chatting and nodding to people as he goes. As he pauses to talk to Matt from Brandon C, I suddenly notice Minnie reaching for Matt’s cocktail glass and putting it to her lips. Matt hasn’t even noticed.
‘Minnie!’ I charge forward and grab it. ‘No! You
don’t
drink cocktails! Luke, did you see what she did?’
Once upon a time, Luke would have hit the roof. Now he just swings her up and frowns at her mock-sternly.
‘Come on, Minnie. Don’t you know the rules? No gambling and no drinking. Got it? And no online shopping. Not till you’re at least … three.’
‘Happy Daddy!’ Minnie pokes him with a glittery cocktail umbrella.
‘Now, you go to Grana for a minute.’ He puts her down and shepherds her towards Mum. ‘I just need to have a little chat with Mummy.’ As he leads me off the dance-floor I feel a bit surprised. What does he need to chat about?
It’s not the Valentino dress, surely. It can’t be. I’ve
told
him it was a present from Mum.
‘I was going to leave this till later,’ he begins as we reach a quiet spot in the
Midsummer Night’s Dream
glade. ‘But why not now?’
‘Absolutely.’ I nod, slightly apprehensive.
‘Although you’re probably in the loop already.’ He rolls his eyes ruefully. ‘I mean, you obviously know about Sage Seymour being a client.’
‘We party-planners make it our business to know everything.’ I smile sweetly. ‘Even secrets our husbands
were trying to keep from us.’
‘And you’ve spoken to her.’
‘Several times, actually.’ I flick my hair back nonchalantly. ‘We got on really well. She said we should have a drink some time.’
Suze nearly
died
when I told her. She said, could she come along and be my assistant?
‘So … you know everything?’ persists Luke. He’s clearly driving at something, but I’m not sure what.
‘Er …’
‘You
don’t
know everything.’ He’s scanning my face as though trying to work it out.
‘Maybe I do,’ I parry.
Damn. Why don’t I know everything?
‘The estate agents just called and left a message with Bonnie.’ He appears to change tack completely. ‘They’ve found us a rental place. But of course, it all depends.’
‘Right.’ I nod wisely. ‘Of course. It all depends. On … many things.’
I’m tempted to add, ‘On cabbages and kings.’
‘Becky …’ Luke gives me a strange look. ‘You have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about, do you?’
Oh, I can’t keep the pretence up any longer.
‘No!’ I exclaim crossly. ‘I don’t! Tell me!’
‘You have no inkling of what I’m about to say.’ He crosses his arms, looking as though he’s enjoying himself.
‘It’s probably really boring,’ I shoot back. ‘So I do know but I forgot, because it’s so dull.’
‘Fair enough.’ He shrugs. ‘Never mind. Not really important. Shall we go back?’
God, he’s maddening.
‘Tell me.’ I glare at him. ‘At once. Or you can’t have a party bag. And they’re really
good
party bags.’
‘OK.’ Luke relents. ‘Well, to recap on what you probably already know …’ He shoots me a grin. ‘I’ve started working for Sage Seymour.’
I feel a little twinge of glee. My husband’s working for a movie star! It’s so cool!
‘And she likes the idea of having someone from outside the film business giving her a fresh take on things. In fact, she likes it
so
much …’ Luke pauses, his mouth twitching, ‘… that she’s asked me to go and work for her in LA for a little while. I’d work with her team, make some contacts, and maybe, if things go
really
well, open a media division of Brandon Communications. Becky.’ His face changes to alarm. ‘Are you all right?
Becky?’
I can’t speak. LA?
Hollywood?
‘And … and we’d all go?’ I stutter as soon as I’ve got my voice back.
‘Well, that was my idea. Gary can take care of things here for a while, so I was thinking three months. But obviously your job is a big consideration.’ He looks anxious. ‘I know it’s been going well for you, I know you were hoping to make it on to the board …’
My job. Fuck. He doesn’t even know about my job.
‘You know what, Luke?’ I say as earnestly as I can. ‘We’re a partnership. A
team
. And if my career has to take a back seat for a while … so be it. That’s what marriage is all about. Plus, they have shops in LA, don’t they? And I’ve got a green card, haven’t I?’
‘Well … great!’ He lifts his glass towards me. ‘Looks like we have a plan.’
He really means it? Just like that?
‘So … we’d be in Hollywood,’ I say, just to be sure. ‘For three months.’
‘Yup.’
‘I’ve never been to Hollywood.’
‘I know.’ He grins. ‘Fun, huh?’
My heart is leaping around like a fish. Hollywood! Me, Becky Brandon, née Bloomwood, in Hollywood!
Luke’s saying something else. His mouth is moving, but I can’t hear him. My mind is too stuffed with alluring images. Me rollerblading down a boardwalk, all tanned and fit. Me driving down Sunset Boulevard in a convertible. (I must find out how to drive American cars.) Me and Sage Seymour hanging out by her shell-pink pool, wearing bikinis from some really hip downtown boutique, while Minnie looks adorable in a sundress.
People will call me The Girl with the English Accent. Or maybe The Girl Who’s Best Friends with Sage Seymour. Or maybe … The Girl in the White Sunglasses. (Yes. I’ll get some tomorrow. That can be my look.)
And it’ll be sunny all the time! And we can drink smoothies on Rodeo Drive! And maybe we’ll go to the Oscars … maybe we’ll meet Johnny Depp … maybe I can be an extra in a film …
‘Becky?’ Luke’s voice finally impinges on my consciousness. ‘What do you think?’
I feel as if my smile is going to break my face in two.
‘When do we go?’
THE LOOK
601 Oxford Street
London W1
Ms Rebecca Brandon
The Pines
43 Elton Road
Oxshott
Surrey
11 April 2006
Dear Rebecca
Thank you for your letter of 10 April.
I’m sorry that you are unable to take up my offer of reinstatement at The Look, with board directorship and increased salary. Obviously your family life comes first and please be assured that your position will be open as and when you return from Los Angeles.
With best wishes for your trip
Trevor Holden
Managing Director
PS Please could you ask all your clients to STOP bringing clothes back? We’re desperate
.
NANNY SUE ENTERPRISES
Where family life comes first …
Counselling – Workshops – Media – Parenting Aids – Guest Speaking
Ms Rebecca Brandon
The Pines
43 Elton Road
Oxshott
Surrey
12 April 2006
Dear Rebecca
Thank you for your letter of 10 April.
I’m sorry you will be unable to attend our Spending Addiction Programme after all, due to your trip to California. I can understand how disappointed and ‘wretched’ you feel about this.
If it is any consolation, I’m sure that you will find similar groups in Los Angeles and could perhaps pursue a course of therapy there.
With all best wishes
Julia Summerton
Adult Progamme Director
CENTRAL DEPARTMENTAL UNIT
FOR MONETARY POLICY
5th Floor
180 Whitehall Place
London SW1
Ms Rebecca Brandon
The Pines
43 Elton Road
Oxshott
Surrey
13 April 2006
Dear Rebecca
Thank you for your letter of 10 April and all best wishes for your upcoming trip to Los Angeles.
Unfortunately, I am fairly sure that
The British Journal of Monetary Economics
does not have scope for an ‘LA correspondent’, as you suggest. Nor is the editor ‘planning to branch out into other more interesting areas, like movies and gossip’.
However, should any other such opportunities arise I will be sure to let you know.
All the best – and bon voyage!
Yours sincerely
Edwin Tredwell
Director of Policy Research
Santa’s Grotto
Christmas Wish
(post in the Wishing Well for Santa to read your wish!!!)
Dear Father Christmas
It’s Becky here again. I hope you’re well.
I wish for a Zac Posen top in aquamarine, the one with the bow, size 10.
Also those Marni shoes I saw with Suze, not the stack heels, the other ones.
A sibling for Minnie.
And above all, Father Christmas, I wish that Luke could be completely, 100 per cent happy, relax and forget all the shit*. Just once.
Thanks. Love Becky
xxx
*sorry
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Massive thanks to my editor Linda Evans; also to Kate Samano, Polly Andrews, Laura Sherlock, Gavin Hilzbrich and the rest of the fantastic team at Transworld, too numerous to list here but deeply appreciated.
I am supported by so many wonderful people – in particular Araminta Whitley, Harry Man, Peta Nightingale, Nicki Kennedy, Sam Edenborough, Valerie Hoskins, Rebecca Watson, my family and the Board. Grateful thanks to all – I couldn’t do it without you.
The name ‘Nicole Taylor’ occurs in this book as a result of an auction in aid of The Children’s Trust which I was delighted to support. The Children’s Trust provides specialist care for severely disabled children and is an inspiring cause. I would like to thank Nicole for her generous bid.
And finally, I’d like to thank all my readers for loyally supporting both Becky and me over the years – and a big hello to everyone on my Facebook page!
Sophie Kinsella
is an internationally bestselling writer and former financial journalist. She is the author of the number-one bestsellers
Can You Keep a Secret?, The Undomestic Goddess, Remember Me?
and
Twenties Girl
, as well as the hugely popular Shopaholic novels, the first of which is now the hit Hollywood movie
Confessions of a Shopaholic
. She lives in London with her husband and children.
Visit her official website at
www.sophiekinsella.co.uk
for news, fun extras and a live forum.