Mini Shopaholic
Page 60

 Sophie Kinsella

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Suddenly I feel a bit flat. I mean, not that I was holding the party just so I could have a new dress. But still.
‘So … how is the party going?’ asks Suze after a pause.
‘Really great!’ I say at once, in a brushing-off way. ‘All fine. I’ll send you an invitation when they’re ready.’
‘Good! And you don’t need any help or anything?’
‘Help?’ I say a bit sharply. ‘Why would I need help? It’s all totally under control.’
I’ll show her. Wait till she sees my shopping-bag pom-poms.
‘Excellent! Well, I look forward to it. I’m sure it’ll be brilliant.’ She starts swinging again, not meeting my eye.
She doesn’t believe me, does she? I know she doesn’t. I’m about to challenge her when a shout draws my attention.
‘There they are! There are the devils!’ A middle-aged man with a red face is coming out of the house next-door to this one, gesticulating at me.
‘Who’s that?’ murmurs Suze.
‘Dunno,’ I say in an undertone. ‘We’ve never met the neighbours. The estate agents said an old man lived there. They said he was ill and never left the house … Can I help you?’ I raise my voice.
‘Help me?’ He glares at me. ‘You could help by explaining what you’ve done to my house! I’m calling the police!’
Suze and I exchange wary glances. Am I moving in next to a nutter?
‘I haven’t done anything to your house!’ I call back.
‘Well, who’s stolen my bedrooms then?’
What?
Before I can answer, our estate agent bustles out into the garden. He’s called Magnus and wears chalk-striped suits and has a very low, discreet voice.
‘Mrs Brandon, I’ll deal with this. Is there a problem?’ he says, ‘Mr …’
‘Evans.’ The man approaches Magnus and they have a conversation over the garden fence, which I can only hear tiny snippets of. But since those snippets include the words sue, outrageous and daylight robbery, I’m agog.
‘You don’t think anything’s wrong, do you?’ I say anxiously to Suze.
‘Of course not!’ she says at once in reassuring tones. ‘It’s probably just some little neighbourly misunderstanding. One of those things you can clear up over a cup of tea. Maybe it’s about … the hedge!’ she adds hurriedly, as Mr Evans starts shaking his fist at Magnus.
‘Do you get that upset about a hedge?’ I say uncertainly.
The conversation is getting louder and the snippets are bigger.
‘…take a sledgehammer myself … evil devils need punishing …’
‘Very well.’ Magnus looks deathly as he comes hurrying over the grass to us. ‘Mrs Brandon, a small matter has arisen, involving the bedrooms of your property. According to this neighbour, several of them have been … appropriated from his property.’
‘What?’ I stare at him blankly.
‘He believes that someone has knocked through the adjoining wall and … stolen his bedrooms. Three of them, to be precise.’
Suze gasps. ‘I thought it looked too big!’
‘But you told us it had eight bedrooms! It was on the house details!’
‘Indeed.’ Magnus is looking more and more uncomfortable. ‘We were informed by the developer that this was an eight-bedroomed house and we had no reason to dispute this—’
‘So he just bulldozed into next door’s upstairs and stole all the rooms and no one even checked?’ I stare at him incredulously.
Magnus looks even more worried.
‘I believe the developer obtained the proper permissions from the Council …’
‘How?’ Mr Evans looms up, clearly bored of waiting. ‘By forging documents and greasing palms, that’s how! I come back from the States and go upstairs for a kip and what do I find? Half my top floor missing! Blocked up! Someone’s come in and stolen my property!’
‘Why didn’t someone notice?’ says Suze robustly. ‘Wasn’t it a bit careless of you to let them do that?’
‘My father’s deaf and nearly blind!’ Mr Evans looks even more incensed. ‘His carers pop in and out, but what do they know? Preying on the vulnerable, that’s what it is.’ His face is almost purple and his yellowing eyes are so menacing I quail.
‘It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything! I didn’t even know! And you can have your bedrooms back,’ I add rashly. ‘Or … we could buy them off you, maybe? It’s just, we’re pretty desperate. We’re living with my parents and we’ve got a two-year-old …’