Mini Shopaholic
Page 149

 Sophie Kinsella

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
She’s always the same. The minute I compliment her appearance she gets uncomfortable and starts trying to sabotage it.
‘Jess borrowed this from Danny,’ I tell Janice as I patiently adjust the neckline back again. ‘It’s a prototype from his new eco-couture collection. You know it’s probably the most expensive dress in this room?’ I add airily. Which is true, even if Suze did pay a squillion. ‘It’s more expensive than mine,’ I add for good measure.
‘What?’ Jess blanches. ‘What are you talking about?’
I want to burst into laughter at her expression. I’ve kind of been saving this titbit up.
‘Oh yes. Because it’s made of hand-spun, free-range silk,’ I explain. ‘They have to wait for the cocoons to fall naturally from the trees, and they don’t use any machines, and all the artisans are paid really generously. Only about three of these will ever be made. In Browns, it would cost …’
I lean forward and whisper the price in Jess’s ear. She looks as if she wants to expire on the spot.
‘Plus, no one in the world has worn any of the pieces from this new collection yet,’ I inform her. ‘You realize you’re an exclusive fashion story?’
Anyone else in the world would be thrilled to be an exclusive fashion story. Jess still looks completely freaked out.
‘Enjoy it! You look fab.’ I put an arm round her shoulders and squeeze tight until she reluctantly laughs.
‘So are you having a good time? Have you danced yet?’ I can’t help smiling at Janice’s beatific face. She looks as though she’s had a good few cocktails.
‘Oh Becky!’ Janice bubbles over. ‘Guess what, love, guess what? Jess is having a baby!’
What? I look, staggered, from Jess to Janice, to Jess’s stomach, to her cocktail, and back to her face. She can’t be—
Oh my God, did Janice’s fertility drug work? And why is Jess looking so happy about it?
‘It’s only a possibility,’ corrects Jess, rolling her eyes. ‘And he’s not a baby. He’s three.’
‘He’s the dearest little angel!’ Janice acts as though Jess hasn’t even spoken. ‘Can we show Becky the picture?’
I watch in bewilderment as Jess reaches into her evening bag. She pulls out a photograph and turns it around to show a grinning little boy with dark floppy hair and olive skin and a few freckles scattered over his nose.
Instantly my heart melts. He looks so goofy and endearing, I almost want to laugh, except it might hurt Jess.
‘Is that …’
‘Maybe.’ Jess is glowing. ‘It’s early days.’
‘You should really think of adoption, you know, Becky.’ Janice is puffed up proudly like a pigeon. ‘As I said to your mother, it’s the only responsible way to have a child these days. Angelina showed us the way, of course.’
Angelina showed us the way? Is this the woman who was having hysterics about five minutes ago because her son might not carry on his genes? I roll my eyes at Jess, but she just laughs and shrugs.
‘Well, good luck!’ I say. ‘When do you … you know. Get him?’
‘Like I say, it’s early days.’ Jess immediately looks cautious. ‘We may not be approved, we may still fail on all sorts of counts … I shouldn’t have shown you the picture, really.’
Yeah, right. Like Jess is going to fail at anything.
I’ll be an aunt! Minnie will have a cousin!
‘Well, I’m really happy for you.’ I squeeze Jess’s arm. ‘And I’m glad you’re having a good time, Janice.’
‘Oh, love, it’s amazing! I know it was a huge effort for you.’ Janice sweeps a tipsy arm around. ‘But it was all worthwhile.’
‘Yes,’ says Jess, before I can reply. ‘It was worthwhile.’ She meets my eyes and gives a little smile.
Jess and Janice head off to find Tom, and I order myself a drink, and as I’m standing there, almost lost in a happy dream, I spot Luke in the mirror behind the bar. He’s standing at the roulette table, with Minnie next to him, peeping over the top. He looks totally, utterly, 100 per cent happy. Everyone’s focused on one massive pile of chips, and when the wheel comes to a standstill there’s an almighty roar. Everyone starts laughing and clapping each other on the back, and Minnie is crowing in delight.
As the croupier starts her patter and players start placing new bets, Luke suddenly notices me watching him. He jerks his head at a quiet sofa nestling in the corner and peels away from the crowd, Minnie’s hand clutched in his.
‘Sweeties!’ Minnie says triumphantly as they reach us, and brandishes a handful of red and green gambling chips at me.