Suzy P and the Trouble with Three (13 page)

“Um, it’s ten-thirty,” I say, checking my watch.

Isabella rolls her eyes. “So?”

“So that’s curfew and we need to get back?” I say awkwardly, aware of what a saddo I sound.

“It’s fine. They’ve all gone to bed. The lights are off in the caravan, look,” Isabella says.

I shake my head. “Mum won’t be sleeping. So unless you want her to actually come and get us in her pyjamas, which she will, let me assure you, we’d better go.”

Isabella huffs. “Honestly, it’s like we’re babies. I’m not going yet.”

“Great,” Tom says, grabbing hold of Isabella’s hand.

Gah. Am I going to get into more trouble for going back late, or going back by myself and leaving Isabella?

What do I doooooo?

I’m still trying to figure out what the answer is when I see Dave approaching. He doesn’t look happy.

Ben clears his throat. “Dad’s coming, mate…”

Isabella and Tom hastily pull apart.

“What’s going on?” Dave asks, standing at the edge of our circle.

“Nothing,” Tom says. “Just toasting marshmallows. Want one?”

“I meant these girls,” Dave says, frowning.

“We were just passing and really fancied a marshmallow,” Isabella says, smiling sweetly. “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to get anyone into trouble. We were just leaving.”

Dave’s expression suggests he’s unconvinced, but his stance softens. “Well, as long as you’re not staying. I’m responsible for this lot – can’t have any funny business going on!”

“Of course. Come on, Millie, Suzy. Let’s go,” Isabella says. “Night,” she says, as she wafts past Dave.

Finally. We’re outta here.

I make a short detour to collect Harry from Ant’s tent as Ben and Tom follow Millie and Isabella.

“You guys around tomorrow?” Isabella asks.

“No. We’re canoeing all day,” Tom says. “But we’re around tomorrow night. Come and hang out with us again?”

“Sure,” Isabella says. She gives a quick check to make sure Dave’s not looking, then stands on tiptoes to give Tom a kiss goodbye.

Ben looks expectantly at Millie.

She grins cheekily and blows him a kiss. “See you.”

Isabella and Millie are clearly on a high as Isabella gives Millie the low-down of what she and Tom got up to in the wood. Long, romantic kisses under the stars, apparently, with no detail left undiscussed.

I don’t say a word all the way back.

I’m not sure anyone notices.

I don’t
get a lot of sleep. My wrist is still throbbing despite the painkillers, and every time I turn over I wake up because it hurts so much. Next morning I’m sleep-deprived and cranky.

My mood isn’t helped by the fact it’s raining incessantly again, and showing no signs of letting up. Is this flipping summer ever going to actually arrive?

“I can’t spend another day on this campsite in the rain,” Amber says. “Mum, what can we do?”

“I’m going home to get my bits and pieces for the talent show,” Dad says. “And I
am
going today. There will be no more trips to hospital on this holiday, you hear?”

“I still can’t believe you’re doing a round trip all for a tr—”

“Ah, ah, Jen!” Dad interrupts. “Don’t give anything away. And yes, it’ll be a long journey, but to be honest,
I’m looking forward to it. Time to myself in the car? Sounds blissful.”

“You’re being so mysterious about this whole talent show thing,” I say. “You can’t have that many skills we don’t know about.”

“Ah, you’ll see,” Mum says.

“I thought Dad’s only talents were watching telly and eating a whole tube of Pringles in one go,” I say.

“Oh, ha ha,” Dad says. “You wait, young lady. You’ll eat your words when you see what your old dad’s been hiding up his sleeve.”

Yeah, yeah, I won’t hold my breath. I bet Dad’s talent turns out to be a talking hand puppet, or something equally lame that he’s totally hyping.

“Dad, can I come?” Amber asks. “Only for the day. I really, really want to see Mark. I miss him so much…”

“Won’t Mark be at work?” Dad says. “I’m sorry, Amber, but I need to get there and back quickly. It’ll take much longer if I have to stop at every service station en route for you to pee. I’ll take Harry, if Harry wants a road trip, but not the rest of you. What do you say, kiddo?”

“Erm, do you know what, Dad, I think I’m going to stay here,” Harry says, shuffling her feet and looking sheepish. That’s weird. She never turns down opportunities for Dad time, and the chance to do a road trip where she’ll get
control of the radio and sit in the front seat – plus Dad will feed her all sorts of sugary and salty snacks – is not one she’d give up easily.

“Why don’t you want to go?” I ask.

“Um, I’m meeting Ant when they get back from canoeing,” Harry says, fidgeting in her chair. “He’s got the Harry Potter board game I really want to play and he said we could do it today.”

“I want to go home,” Amber says, her bottom lip wobbling dangerously. Honestly, since she got pregnant this girl leaks more water than a tap. “I really, really, want to see my Markymoo…”

“Well, we’ll have to think of something fun to do,” Mum says, hurriedly. “Don’t cry, love, you know stress isn’t good for the babies. Why don’t we drive into town? I know it’s a bit of a way away but we’ve nothing else to do and we can buy some things for the babies.”

“We can? So far we need… well, everything, I suppose.” Amber suddenly starts to freak out. “We don’t have anything. Nothing at all. Oh God, what if the babies come early and we don’t have any clothes for them? And they don’t have anywhere to sleep? We’d be the worst parents in the world! They’d take the babies away!” Amber’s voice has risen into a banshee-like wail.

“Calm down. We will buy what you need ready for
when these little ones make their appearance.” Mum gives Amber a squeeze.

“Really?” Amber says, between gasping, shuddery breaths. “Phew.”

Dad goes pale. “You’re spending more money?” he asks.

Mum pats his arm. “Don’t worry, it won’t be much. We’ll get a few essentials – a few baby clothes and whatnot to cheer Amber up and make her less worried. She can get the rest of the things when we get home.”

“Well, make sure that’s all it is,” Dad says. “Budgeting rules still apply on holiday, you know. A couple of Babygros and maybe a rattle or a nice teddy or something, but that’s it, all right? Amber and Mark are living rent-free in our house; they can afford to buy their own things for
their own children
.”

Dad stresses the last part meaningfully.

“Absolutely,” Mum says, nodding her head. Dad doesn’t see the wink she sends in Amber’s direction.

Just then, the minibus containing the boys drives past and trundles across the field out of the gate. Isabella stares after it longingly.

“If we’re all going to town, you’re going to have to take Murphy,” Mum says to Dad.

“What?” Dad says.

“Well, we can’t take him shopping.”

“Would you mind?” Clare says. “We’d be ever so grateful. We can’t leave him by himself.”

Crystal Fairybelle is staying in the caravan – all that dog does is sleep, anyway. Murphy’s different, though, shut him in the caravan for more than half an hour and by the time you come back there’ll be no caravan left.

Dad grumbles, but Clare eventually sweet-talks him, and soon Murphy’s in the back of our Volvo, panting happily as he stares out of the window.

Then we’re off, crammed into Clare’s car. There’s loads of room now the dog grill’s taken down and Murphy’s not hogging all the space. Admittedly it takes hours to drive to a town with a shopping centre, but no matter. We’re out!

“Right, I’m going to start at the bookshop,” Clare says when we pull into a parking space. “I’ll meet you back at the car later, okay?”

“Don’t forget to ring Dad,” Millie calls after her.

Clare doesn’t look like she’s heard.

Isabella eyes the high street with undisguised delight. “Let’s shop! Where first, Mills?”

“We’ll meet you back here at about midday, girls,” Mum says. “Does that sound okay? That should be enough time to look around and get a few things, then we can have some lunch and head back.”

“Suze, you’re coming with us, aren’t you?” Amber says.

“Um, I was actually planning on going with these guys…”

No way do I venture into the unmitigated hell of baby shops. Hitting the bridal boutiques earlier in the year was bad enough.

“Please, Suzypoos,” Amber says, making puppy dog eyes. “Please, please. You’re going to be auntie to the babies. Your opinion really matters.”

I can’t really argue with that, can I?

“But…” I say, turning towards Millie and Isabella. Isabella’s already pulling Millie away, clearly eager to start spending.

“Bye,” Millie says apologetically.

“Yeah, bye,” I mutter.

Left out. Again.

“Right then,” says Mum. “To the baby shops!”

“Wow, look at you, Mum-to-be,” a shop assistant gushes, coming over as we enter. “When are you due? Looks like any day now.”

“I’ve still got over a month to go,” Amber says.

“Really?” the assistant says. “But you’re massive!”

“It’s twins,” Mum interjects before Amber gets too offended.

“Twins!” the lady exclaims, clapping with delight. “How wonderful. Double the trouble, double the joy, or so they say. Have you chosen your names?”

“I’m thinking about Lemon and Lyme,” Amber says. “Lyme with a y, though, obviously.”

“Obviously,” the shop assistant says, her smile wavering. “What unusual choices. Now, what do you already have, and what do you need?”

“Um, well, I have some baby books,” Amber says.

“Excellent,” says the shop assistant. “And what else?”

“Er, nothing,” Amber tells her.

“Nothing?” the shop assistant looks horrified.

“No,” Amber says, and her breathing gets all quick and panicky again.

“We were just hoping to get a few bits and pieces today,” Mum interjects, rubbing a hand over Amber’s back. “Not much. Maybe a couple of Babygros and a blanket, or something like that.”

“But you do know twins can come early, don’t you?” says the sales assistant.

“Well, we’re hoping that won’t happen,” Mum says, laughing nervously. “We’re planning on buying most of the bits when we get back home. We’re only here on holiday, you see. Only popped in to get an idea of the things we might need.”

“But we’ve got a wonderful sale on at the moment,” the woman presses. “And if you’re buying two of everything, saving money is going to be important, am I right?”

“She is,” whispers Amber. “And what if the babies do come soon?”

“It
would
be awful if they came early and we had nothing for them,” Mum agrees, weakening.

The assistant clearly has no intention of letting this sale go, especially when the pound signs are clanging in her eyes at the thought of all the commission she stands to make selling double of everything. “Let me show you some products you’ll need…”

An hour later Harry and I are collapsed in the corner of the shop, while the pile of stuff Amber and Mum have picked out grows higher and higher. Baby bottles, monitors, changing mats, sterilisers, baby baths, clothes in neutral colours, bedding, even something called a wipe-warmer. Who knew that such tiny people needed so much?

All I can think about is the fun Millie and Isabella are probably having somewhere. Without me.

Amber’s asked Harry and my opinion on everything little thing. And really, it’s sweet that she cares, but we have nothing useful to offer. We know nada about babies, or baby things.

I get up and, out of sheer boredom, wander over to the prams. Yeowch. Prams are seriously expensive!

“Can I help you, madam?” a slimy-looking male assistant comes over. “When are you due?”

“What?” I splutter as Harry starts giggling. “It’s not for me. It’s for my sister.”

The sales assistant raises an eyebrow dubiously, and I vow never to wear this outfit ever again if it makes me look flipping pregnant. How blimmin’ rude!

I sit down again and refuse to look anyone in the eye, busying myself fiddling with my phone. I try Danny’s number again, but surprise surprise, there’s no answer.

I’m starting to think he’s avoiding me.

The shop doesn’t only sell baby stuff, it sells children’s clothes too, and Harry’s wandered off and started browsing. She emerges with a denim skirt.

“Um, what do you think of this?” she asks me, a little sheepishly.

What’s she picking up that for? Harry’s the biggest tomboy on the planet. I didn’t think she even knew what a skirt was.

“What are you getting a skirt for?”

“No reason,” Harry says, but her cheeks are flaming. “I, um… just like it, that’s all. I’d like to wear it at the talent show. I’m going to add it to the pile of stuff on the counter. Mum’ll never notice.”

Half an hour later, we’re all struggling out of the shop, laden down under the weight of tons of bags.

Dad is going to flip when he sees them. Mum and
Amber got totally carried away, and we haven’t even got it all with us – Mum’s arranged to have half of it posted on. As she tries to force bags into the boot, she turns and eyeballs us fiercely.

“Nobody say a word to your father about this, you understand?” she instructs. “I’m going to have to hide all this stuff somewhere in the caravan to get it back home.”

“What’s it worth?” Harry says, never one to miss an opportunity. “There’s that magic set I’ve been wanting for ages, and a toy shop over there…”

“That’s blackmail, young lady,” Mum says. “And we’ve spent more than enough money today.”

“Okay then,” Harry says, shrugging. “Although I can’t promise something won’t slip out when Dad asks what we’ve been up to today.”

Mum extracts her purse from her handbag, passing Harry twenty pounds. “I suppose I can’t really treat Amber without getting things for the rest of you too,” she says. “Off you go. But make sure you come straight back, okay?”

“Brilliant! Thanks, Mum, you’re the best,” Harry says, dashing off towards the toy shop.

“Dad’s going to go nuts when he sees this,” I say. “There’s no way you’re going to be able to hide it from him.”

“Shhh,” Mum says. “Of course we’ll be able to. We’ll tell him… someone gave it to us. Or something. It’ll be fine.
Now help put this into the boot, would you, please?”

And then I see it. Hanging on a nearby market stall.

A Mulberry bag. It’s beautiful.

I wonder how much it is? I know they’re dead expensive.

I go for a closer look, and do a double take at the price tag. Far from being the hundreds of pounds I expected, it’s actually pretty reasonable. Because it’s not actually a Mulberry bag at all. Although you’d never know unless you looked really, really closely.

Oh. I love it. I love it, I love it.

And nobody would know it’s not an authentic one. It looks exactly the same.

I disappear off into a wonderful daydream where everything’s different with the bag. I’m glossy, I’m groomed, I’m swishing around in a confident swirl. Everything about me would be better if I had that bag. I’m sure of it.

“You buying that, love?” says the market trader.

“Um… let me go and talk to my mum a minute,” I say, running back to the car.

Harry’s sprawled across the back seat, pulling apart her magic set with glee.

“Mum, you know how Amber got all this baby stuff, and Harry’s got her magic kit?”

“Hmm,” Mum says distractedly, still wrestling with all the baby clothes.

“Could I get a bag?”

“Well, I can’t get something for both of your sisters and not for you,” Mum says. She opens her purse again, and passes me another twenty.

“Uh, it’s a bit more than that,” I say.

“I haven’t got any more,” Mum says.

“Please?” I beg. “Please, please, pretty please with a cherry on the top? It’s not much more, and you can give it to me as part of my birthday present if you like?”

“It’s not your birthday for months,” Mum says.

“I know,” I say, “but I really love it. Please? Please, please, please…”

“Oh, all right,” Mum says wearily. She passes a pack of nappies to Harry. “Try to fit these somewhere while I nip to the cashpoint, would you?”

“Thanks, Mum, you’re the best!” I say, bouncing up and down, then giving her a big one-armed hug.

“Hi.” Mum waves, seeing Clare walking towards us. “Did you manage to track down Martin?”

“No,” Clare says vaguely. “He was in a meeting. Crikey, you’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

“All essentials,” Mum says. “I’m just popping to the cashpoint. Keep an eye on this lot until I get back, would you?”