Mini Shopaholic

I want to cry.

No. I’m not going to cry.

Almost without meaning to, I find myself slowly reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone. And pressing Suze’s speed-dial number with my thumb.

I’m not going to ask her for help. I can’t bring myself to go that far. But if she offers again … then I’ll accept.

‘Bex! Hi!’ She answers straight away.

‘Suze?’ I say tremulously. ‘How’s it all going?’

I won’t bring up the subject directly. I’ll just wait till she mentions the party and take it from there.

‘I’m still furious!’ Suze replies hotly. ‘Do you know what I did today? I got all Tarkie’s team in for a meeting and I said, “Why weren’t you there? Why was no one at the photoshoot?” And do you know the worst thing? One of them was!’ Her voice rises indignantly. ‘He said he did think it all looked rather odd, but he thought it must be the latest thing in fashion and he didn’t want to interfere. I’m telling you, Bex, I’m becoming Tarkie’s manager. Have you heard from Danny?’ she adds. ‘Because I keep calling him, and he won’t return my calls.’

‘No, he won’t answer my calls either.’ I hear a sudden screaming in the background and a faint banging sound.

‘Wilfie! Stop that! Bex, I’d better go. How are you, anyway?’

She hasn’t even mentioned it.

And suddenly I feel a stab of humiliation. I can’t tell her. I can’t admit I’m knee deep in manky marquee with no money and no job and no idea how I’m going to throw this party together.

‘I’m … I’m good! I’ll talk to you later, Suze …’ I ring off and sit in complete stillness for a moment. The drive is becoming chilly and dark. I can see a light coming on in Janice’s house and have a sudden thought. I scroll down my numbers again and press ‘Jess’.

I’ll ask her round for a cup of tea and she’ll see the marquee and volunteer to help clean it. I know she will. I should have asked Jess ages ago. She’s my sister, after all!

‘Hi, Jess!’ I say eagerly as soon as she answers. ‘Are you around? Do you want a cup of tea or anything?’

‘Tom and I are in Staffordshire,’ she says, her voice sounding distant. ‘I’ve come to do some research at the museum here. I couldn’t bear Janice a minute longer. You won’t believe her latest stunt.’

‘What?’

‘She stole our contraception! Took it! She denies it, but I know she did. Why else would our condoms have been in her bedroom drawer? I said to her, “Don’t tell me they’re yours, Janice, because I won’t believe you.” I mean she’s probably never even heard of Fair Trade ethical condoms, let alone bought them. We had a massive row. Martin went and hid in the tree house, he was so embarrassed.’

Despite everything I can’t help a half-giggle as I try to imagine Jess and Janice having a stand-up row about condoms.

‘So we had to get out of there for a few days,’ Jess is continuing. ‘Becky, I can’t stand her. What am I going to do?’ Her voice dips away.

‘Jess? Are you there?’

‘Sorry! Listen, my phone’s running out. Can I call you back later?’

‘Sure!’ I try to sound light-hearted. ‘Give my love to Tom!’

As the light in my phone dies away the drive seems darker than ever.

My head droops down on to my knees. I feel exhausted. All my last remaining energy has been sapped away by those two calls. I’ve got nothing left. I’ve got no hope, no plans, no answers. I don’t know why I thought I could throw a party. I must have been crazy.

A tear suddenly rolls down the side of my nose, followed by another. I’m going to have to admit defeat. I’m going to have to cancel the party. I can’t see any other way. It’s just too overwhelmingly massive. There’s no way I can pull it off.

I give a huge sob and bury my face in my hands. I can’t believe I’m giving up. But what else can I do?

I’ll call Bonnie and ask her to email all the guests. We’ll make up some excuse. Luke can go to Paris. He’ll never even know what I was planning. Life will just carry on. It’s the easiest solution. It’s the only solution.

‘Rebecca?’ My head jerks up and I blink at the tall, shadowy figure standing in front of me.

‘Elinor?’ I feel a sudden choking panic. ‘What are you doing here? You can’t come here! This is where I live! What if Luke saw you, or my parents—’

‘Luke isn’t here,’ replies Elinor calmly. She’s wearing the dove-grey Chanel coat which I sold her at The Look, belted tightly around her waist. ‘No one is here except you and Minnie. My driver ascertained these facts before I approached.’