Shopaholic & Baby
This is it! All my life I’ve wanted to itemize my clothes in a magazine!
As I reach the hall I do a quick recap in my head. Dress: Diane von Furstenburg. Shoes: Prada. Tights: Topshop. Earrings: present from Mum.
No, that’s not cool enough. I’ll call them…model’s own. No, vintage. I’ll say I found them sewn into a 1930s corset which I bought from an old atelier in a backstreet in Paris. Perfect.
I swing open the front door, plastering a bright smile on my face — and freeze.
It’s not Vogue. It’s Luke.
He’s wearing an overcoat and holding an overnight case and it looks like he didn’t shave this morning.
“What the hell is this?” he says with no preamble, lifting up my letter.
I stare back at him, dumbstruck. This isn’t right. He’s supposed to be at the Oxo Tower looking all romantic and loving. Not here on the doorstep, disheveled and moody.
“I…” I swallow. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” he echoes incredulously. “I’m reacting to this! You didn’t answer any of my calls, I had no bloody idea what was going on…. ‘Meet me at the top of the Oxo Tower.’” He shakes the letter at me. “What is all this crap?”
Crap?
“It’s not crap!” I cry, stung. “I was trying to save our marriage, in case you hadn’t realized—”
“Save our marriage?” He stares at me. “At the Oxo Tower?”
“It works in films! You were supposed to turn up, and it was all supposed to be lovely, like in Sleepless in Seattle.…”
My voice is thickening with disappointment. I so thought it was going to work. I so thought he was going to be there, and we’d run into each other’s arms, and be a happy family again.
“OK, I’m obviously missing something.” Luke is frowning down at the letter again. “This letter doesn’t even make sense. ‘I know you had an——’ Blank. What did I have? An embolism?”
He’s mocking me. I can’t bear it.
“An affair!” I yell. “An affair! Your affair with Venetia! I know about it, remember? And I just thought maybe you wanted to give our marriage another shot, but obviously not, so please just go. I have a Vogue shoot to do.” I brush angrily at my tear-filled eyes.
“My what?” He seems genuinely shell-shocked. “Becky, you’re joking.”
“Yeah, right.” I make to close the door, but he grabs my wrist hard.
“Stop.” Luke’s voice is like thunder. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on. I get this letter out of the blue…you’re accusing me of having an affair…. You can’t run away without explaining.”
Has he moved in to a parallel universe? Did someone hit him over the head or something?
“You admitted it yourself, Luke!” I practically shriek in frustration. “You said you’d been trying to ‘protect’ me, because of my blood pressure or whatever. Remember that?”
Luke’s eyes are scanning my face, back and forth, as though searching for answers.
“The conversation we had in the hospital,” he says suddenly. “Before I left.”
“Yes! Does it all come flooding back now?” I can’t help sounding sarcastic. “You were planning to tell me after the baby. You were going to see how things ‘played out.’ You basically admitted it—”
“I wasn’t talking about having a fucking affair!” Luke explodes. “I was talking about the crisis situation with Arcodas!”
“I…” The wind is instantly taken out of my sails. “Wh-what?”
I suddenly notice two children standing on the pavement, staring at us. I guess we do look quite conspicuous, what with my huge bump and everything.
“Let’s adjourn inside,” I say in dignified tones. Luke follows my gaze.
“Right. Yes. Let’s…do that.”
He steps into the house and I close the door. For a moment there’s silence in the hall. I don’t know what to say. I feel totally thrown.
“Becky…I don’t know what wrong end of what stick you’ve got hold of.” Luke exhales long and hard. “There’s been some trouble at work and I’ve been trying to shield you from it. But I’m not having an affair. With Venetia?”
“But she told me you were.”
Luke looks astounded. “She can’t have done.”
“She did! She said you were leaving me for her. She said—” I bite my lip. It’s too painful to remember everything Venetia said.