Mini Shopaholic
Page 32
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People Who Know About Party
Me
Suze
Tarquin
Danny
Jess
Tom
Total = 6
SIX
I’m already making good progress with this party – in fact I’m quite proud of myself, bearing in mind I’m not a professional party planner or anything. I’ve bought a special notebook which I’ve disguised by writing ‘High-heeled boots – possible options’ on the front. And already I have an extensive to-do list, which goes as follows:
Party – To-Do List
Marquee – where get? Where put? How big?
Fire-eaters – where get??
Jugglers – where get???
Theme – what?
Food – what? how? (Chocolate fountain?)
Drink – NOT peach wine
Dancing – need dance-floor. Shiny? Black and white, lights up like in Saturday Night Fever?
Guests – who? Track down old friends? (NOT Venetia Carter or Sacha de Bonneville)
Outfit – Balmain black sequinned dress with Zanotti crystal sandals and Philippe Audibert cuff? Roland Mouret turquoise dress with strappy Prada shoes? Azzaro red minidress and black Louboutins?
OK, so a few issues are a bit unresolved as yet. But the most urgent thing is to make sure Luke stays free on 7 April and doesn’t book a business trip or anything. Which means I’m going to have to rope in an accomplice.
I wait until I have a moment alone in the kitchen, then dial his office number.
‘Luke Brandon’s office, how may I help?’ come the perfectly modulated tones down the phone.
Luke’s personal assistant is called Bonnie, and she’s been with him for a year. She’s in her forties and has mid-blonde hair which she always arranges in the same classic chignon. And she always wears understated tweed dresses and court shoes and speaks in the same soft voice. At Brandon Communications parties she’s always the one on the fringes, cradling a glass of water, looking happy just to watch. I’ve tried to chat to her a couple of times, but she seems quite reserved.
Anyway, apparently she’s a total star. Luke had had a couple of disasters before he hired Bonnie and I’ve never known anyone enthuse as much as he did when Bonnie first started. Apparently she’s incredibly efficient and discreet, and almost telepathic at knowing what he’s going to need. I’d almost be worried, if it weren’t for the fact that I can’t actually imagine Bonnie having sex.
‘Hi, Bonnie?’ I say. ‘It’s Becky here. Luke’s wife.’
‘Becky! How are you?’
That’s the other thing. She always sounds pleased to hear from me, even though she must be thinking, ‘Oh bloody hell, it’s the wife again.’
‘I’m good, thanks. And you?’
‘I’m very well. Can I put you through to Luke?’
‘Actually, Bonnie, it was you I wanted to speak to. I’m throwing Luke a …’ I pause and glance around in sudden paranoia, just in case Luke’s come back early from work to surprise me and is even now silently creeping up behind me on tiptoes, arms outstretched. But he’s not.
Huh. Why doesn’t he ever do that?
Just to be doubly sure, I go and shut the kitchen door and pull a chair across it. This is all so cloak and dagger. I feel like those French Resistance girls in ‘Allo ‘Allo!
‘Becky, are you still there?’ Bonnie’s saying. ‘Becky? Hello?’
‘Listen very carefully, I will say this only once.’ I whisper into the phone in sepulchral tones. ‘I’m throwing a surprise party for Luke’s birthday. It’s top secret and you’re only the seventh person in the world to know about it.’
I almost want to add, ‘And now I’ll have to shoot you.’
‘I’m sorry, Becky …’ Bonnie sounds confused. ‘I can’t hear you. Could you speak up?’
For God’s sake.
‘A party!’ I say more loudly. ‘I’m throwing Luke a party on the seventh of April. And I want it to be a surprise, so could you block off the date in his diary and make something up?’
‘The seventh of April.’ Bonnie sounds unruffled. ‘That should be simple enough.’
You see? This is why she’s a brilliant PA. She behaves as though she’s done this kind of thing a million times.
‘And I want to invite all his friends from work, so could they all block off their diaries too? But don’t make it look suspicious or anything. And don’t tell anyone what it’s about yet. Maybe you could say it’s a big fire practice? And you should have a decoy birthday card going around the office,’ I add as the thought suddenly crosses my mind. ‘You know, nearer the time. And if Luke ever mentions his birthday, which he won’t, but if he does, you should just say—’
Me
Suze
Tarquin
Danny
Jess
Tom
Total = 6
SIX
I’m already making good progress with this party – in fact I’m quite proud of myself, bearing in mind I’m not a professional party planner or anything. I’ve bought a special notebook which I’ve disguised by writing ‘High-heeled boots – possible options’ on the front. And already I have an extensive to-do list, which goes as follows:
Party – To-Do List
Marquee – where get? Where put? How big?
Fire-eaters – where get??
Jugglers – where get???
Theme – what?
Food – what? how? (Chocolate fountain?)
Drink – NOT peach wine
Dancing – need dance-floor. Shiny? Black and white, lights up like in Saturday Night Fever?
Guests – who? Track down old friends? (NOT Venetia Carter or Sacha de Bonneville)
Outfit – Balmain black sequinned dress with Zanotti crystal sandals and Philippe Audibert cuff? Roland Mouret turquoise dress with strappy Prada shoes? Azzaro red minidress and black Louboutins?
OK, so a few issues are a bit unresolved as yet. But the most urgent thing is to make sure Luke stays free on 7 April and doesn’t book a business trip or anything. Which means I’m going to have to rope in an accomplice.
I wait until I have a moment alone in the kitchen, then dial his office number.
‘Luke Brandon’s office, how may I help?’ come the perfectly modulated tones down the phone.
Luke’s personal assistant is called Bonnie, and she’s been with him for a year. She’s in her forties and has mid-blonde hair which she always arranges in the same classic chignon. And she always wears understated tweed dresses and court shoes and speaks in the same soft voice. At Brandon Communications parties she’s always the one on the fringes, cradling a glass of water, looking happy just to watch. I’ve tried to chat to her a couple of times, but she seems quite reserved.
Anyway, apparently she’s a total star. Luke had had a couple of disasters before he hired Bonnie and I’ve never known anyone enthuse as much as he did when Bonnie first started. Apparently she’s incredibly efficient and discreet, and almost telepathic at knowing what he’s going to need. I’d almost be worried, if it weren’t for the fact that I can’t actually imagine Bonnie having sex.
‘Hi, Bonnie?’ I say. ‘It’s Becky here. Luke’s wife.’
‘Becky! How are you?’
That’s the other thing. She always sounds pleased to hear from me, even though she must be thinking, ‘Oh bloody hell, it’s the wife again.’
‘I’m good, thanks. And you?’
‘I’m very well. Can I put you through to Luke?’
‘Actually, Bonnie, it was you I wanted to speak to. I’m throwing Luke a …’ I pause and glance around in sudden paranoia, just in case Luke’s come back early from work to surprise me and is even now silently creeping up behind me on tiptoes, arms outstretched. But he’s not.
Huh. Why doesn’t he ever do that?
Just to be doubly sure, I go and shut the kitchen door and pull a chair across it. This is all so cloak and dagger. I feel like those French Resistance girls in ‘Allo ‘Allo!
‘Becky, are you still there?’ Bonnie’s saying. ‘Becky? Hello?’
‘Listen very carefully, I will say this only once.’ I whisper into the phone in sepulchral tones. ‘I’m throwing a surprise party for Luke’s birthday. It’s top secret and you’re only the seventh person in the world to know about it.’
I almost want to add, ‘And now I’ll have to shoot you.’
‘I’m sorry, Becky …’ Bonnie sounds confused. ‘I can’t hear you. Could you speak up?’
For God’s sake.
‘A party!’ I say more loudly. ‘I’m throwing Luke a party on the seventh of April. And I want it to be a surprise, so could you block off the date in his diary and make something up?’
‘The seventh of April.’ Bonnie sounds unruffled. ‘That should be simple enough.’
You see? This is why she’s a brilliant PA. She behaves as though she’s done this kind of thing a million times.
‘And I want to invite all his friends from work, so could they all block off their diaries too? But don’t make it look suspicious or anything. And don’t tell anyone what it’s about yet. Maybe you could say it’s a big fire practice? And you should have a decoy birthday card going around the office,’ I add as the thought suddenly crosses my mind. ‘You know, nearer the time. And if Luke ever mentions his birthday, which he won’t, but if he does, you should just say—’
