Gucci Gucci Coo (21 page)

Ruby had decided that the following month—in the run-up to Christmas—the shop would hold a “Guatemalan Week.” Since the Guatemalan baby clothes and accessories sold so well during the rest of the year, she was buying extra stock, including toys, crib mobiles and even Christmas decorations. The idea was to give the profits to a charity that rescued street children in Guatemala City.

“Please tell me you’ve cleared this plan with the Nazi in nylons,” Chanel said as she took her coat off a few minutes later. Ruby didn’t say anything. She simply carried on unpacking baby clothes. “Oooh, just look at this,” she squealed, holding up an exquisite multicolored romper suit. “Isn’t it fabulous?”

“You ’aven’t told ’er, ’ave you?” Chanel persisted.

Again, Ruby didn’t reply.

“You ’aven’t, ’ave you?”

Ruby took a deep breath. “OK, not as such.” She’d kept meaning to phone Stella to bounce the idea of the Guatemalan week off her, but since Stella wasn’t exactly one of life’s philanthropists and Ruby knew exactly what her reaction would be, she’d decided to keep quiet.

“Gawd, she is going to go mental when she finds out.”

“She won’t find out if nobody tells her.”

“Duh. Ruby to earth, come in, Ruby. Stella does look at the accounts, you know. She’ll see exactly what’s gone on behind her back.”

“I know. You don’t have to tell me. It’s just that it’s coming up to Christmas. The shop’s made a huge profit this year. We can easily afford to give some of it away and I don’t want Stella putting her foot down.”

“I know, but you’ve gotta phone ’er. You’ve got no choice.”

“I will, but I’ve got to think up some way of selling her the idea. Maybe we should get some celeb involved. That way we get press coverage and loads of PR for the shop.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Chanel had to leave early that afternoon because she and Craig had an appointment with their social worker. They were going to find out if their application to foster a child had been approved.

“Good luck,” Ruby said, giving Chanel a hug before she left. “Not that you’ll need it. You and Craig are going to make wonderful foster parents.”

Since the shop was quiet, Ruby decided to phone Stella in New York. She couldn’t put it off any longer. As the phone rang, Ruby rehearsed what she was going to say. She would go on about how giving to charity was good for the company image. Then she would tell a white lie and say she had a list of celebs willing to launch Guatemalan week. Surely that would work. After half a dozen rings or so, Stella’s voice mail kicked in.

The message was typically brusque and to the point. “I’m in the Maldives without my cell phone until mid-December. In the case of a life-or-death emergency you can call Chrissie, my PA, who knows how to reach me.” Chrissie’s number followed.

Ruby decided that since what she wanted to discuss didn’t begin to qualify as a dire life-or-death emergency, she would go ahead with Guatemalan week in the hope that once Stella knew that she had persuaded a celebrity to launch the event and achieved some excellent publicity for the company, she wouldn’t be too put out.

She had just put the phone down when the shop door opened. A young woman—she couldn’t have been more than twenty—was struggling to get in with a stroller. Ruby ran over to hold the door for her.

“Thanks.” She smiled. Ruby couldn’t help noticing the girl’s appearance. Her long dark hair was hanging flat and greasy round her face. She looked thin, pale and exhausted. She wasn’t badly dressed—in fact she looked pretty trendy, but her jeans, coat and handbag were clearly chain-store bought rather than designer. Her scuffed boots clearly hadn’t been bought new this season. She was by no means the usual Les Sprogs customer.

“Is it OK if I look round?” Although she was well spoken, she seemed tense and ill at ease with her surroundings—as if she knew she didn’t quite belong.

“Of course. Just ask if you need any help.” Ruby bent down to look at the baby in the stroller.

“Just got him off,” the girl smiled. “He’s been howling all afternoon. Plus I was up with him all night. I really don’t know what’s got into him.”

Ruby looked at the sleeping infant. He had a mop of bright ginger hair. “Wow, look at all that hair. It’s gorgeous.”

The girl smiled. “I know. The only problem is that everybody calls him Ginger Nut or Carrot Top. I wish they wouldn’t. His name is Alfie.”

“Hello, Alfie,” Ruby whispered, stroking his tiny hand. The baby responded by making little chewing motions in his sleep, but didn’t wake. Ruby suggested she leave the stroller by the counter. “I’ll keep an eye on Alfie while you have a browse.”

Ruby watched the girl as she wandered round the shop, tentatively picking things up. At one point she picked up a pair of Baby Gucci dungarees, looked twice at the price tag, because she clearly hadn’t taken it in the first time, and quickly put them down again. She clearly couldn’t afford anything and seemed to be thinking she was committing some kind of social trespass. Then she started to gather her confidence. Still ignoring the Gucci range, she picked up a fur-lined jacket with a hood, three or four T-shirts and several sleep suits. Ruby did a quick sum in her head. The girl was holding at least £300 worth of stock. When she’d chosen everything she wanted, she came over to the counter and put the clothes down next to the till. “And I’d like to look at your strollers please.”

“Sure,” Ruby said. “They’re over here.” She led the way toward the display of prams and buggies.

The girl explained that she needed a triple buggy.

“A triple? Wow.” Ruby wanted to say she didn’t look old enough to have one child, let alone three, but she kept her thoughts to herself. It was none of her business.

“It’s a long story.” The girl smiled. “I have two-year-old twin girls as well. They’re at home with my mum.”

“Goodness, talk about having your hands full,” Ruby said.

“Tell me about it.”

There were three triple buggies to choose from. The girl chose the most expensive. It was just over £800. Ruby explained that the only one she had in stock was the display model and she would have to order another one. “It shouldn’t take more than a couple of days.”

The girl didn’t seem bothered. “I’ll pay now if that’s OK.”

The stroller plus the clothes came to nearly £1,200. The girl put her hand into her bag and pulled out a roll of notes. Ruby couldn’t help blinking in surprise. The usual Les Sprogs customers might pay cash for a small item—a £10 furry animal, say—but when it came to larger amounts they generally produced a gold or platinum American Express card. Still, Ruby thought, it was none of her business why she was paying in cash. Money was money.

“You can come back for the stroller,” Ruby said. “Or if you’d prefer, I can arrange for it to be delivered to you.”

“I think I’d prefer to pick it up,” the girl said as Ruby handed her a large Les Sprogs carrier bag full of clothes. Ruby took her name—Hannah Morgan—and phone number and said she would call her the moment the stroller came in.

Ruby helped her out with the buggy. As Hannah disappeared down the street, Ruby couldn’t help wondering what her story was.

Chapter 14

Chanel came into work next morning bearing apricot Danish, two skinny cappuccinos and a double-shot grin. “Don’t tell me,” Ruby said, “social services has said yes.”

“I can’t believe it. The report said me and Craig would make ideal foster parents. Off the record our social worker told us that all being well, we should ’ave no trouble adopting in a year or so—if that’s what we decide to do.”

“That’s fantastic,” Ruby said, giving Chanel a hug. “Well done. I knew you’d do it.”

“It’s most likely we’ll get a school-age kid, which means I can work school hours and you won’t be left in the lurch.”

“God, I can’t tell you what a relief that is. I was dreading having to replace you. It just wouldn’t be the same.” They realized weekends and school holidays would be a problem, but had decided to leave sorting out arrangements until Chanel knew when her first foster child was arriving. She seemed to think it was highly unlikely anything would happen before Christmas. Since Christmas was obviously their busiest time of the year, this was even more of a relief to Ruby.

As they got ready to open the shop, Ruby told Chanel about trying to phone Stella. Chanel agreed it didn’t make any sense trying to reach her while she was on holiday. “You know what she’s like about her ‘me time.’ Isn’t worth the aggro.”

Around midmorning, Fi popped in to say hi. When Chanel told her about being accepted as a foster parent, Fi was genuinely delighted, but her smiles couldn’t hide the tension in her face.

“Wassup?” Ruby said. “Connor still not sleeping?”

Fi shook her head. “It’s not that. He’s doing fine, bless him. He’s been sleeping through the night for weeks now. No, it’s money. We’re flat broke.” She explained that Saul had finished his
Hamlet
stint at the National and still didn’t have another acting job lined up.

“He’s going for two or three auditions a week and each time he’s being given the bums. You know, with his looks he’d make a fabulous Old Testament hero. Shame nobody’s thought about doing a remake of
The Ten Commandments
. Anyway, things are looking pretty bad. Even the singing jobs have dried up. Soon we’ll be in arrears with the mortgage. I’ve got the bank and Barclaycard on my back every five minutes demanding money. Saul’s talking about jacking it all in and taking up minicabbing.”

“He absolutely mustn’t do that,” Ruby came back. “He’s so talented. He’s got a great singing voice. His luck will change. He just has to sit it out, that’s all.”

Chanel said if he was desperate, Craig had just fired his apprentice. “I’m sure Saul could do the job. It pays bugger all, but if it would help…”

“And I can always lend you a bit,” Ruby said. “You only have to ask.”

“You are both very kind and I really appreciate the offers, but if it comes to it, Saul will have to retrain and get a proper job and I’ll have to go back to teaching. It’s as simple as that.”

Just then Fi’s mobile rang. She looked at the caller display and let out a sigh. “It’s my mum. I can’t cope with her on top of everything else.”

Ruby suggested she ignore the call, but Fi said she daren’t in case Bridget was ill or there was some kind of emergency. She pressed “connect.” “Hi, Mum, how are you?…An ingrown toenail? Oooh, poor old you. That can be really painful…. What? Hang on. You cannot possibly blame Saul being out of work for your ingrown toenail…. He will get another acting job. It just takes time. I know you’re stressed about it. So am I.…Yes, I know Lindsay O’Connor from school has a stable, a four-car garage and a château in the Perigord.…Yes, I know she’s done well for herself. She’s also got what?…A giant plasma-screen TV?…Really? Well, good for her. It’s called an STV? You sure? I’ve never heard of an STV. Wait a minute. I think you might find that’s STD, which stands for sexually transmitted disease. Lindsay’s famous for putting it about.…Mum? Mum?…” Fi shrugged and turned to Ruby and Chanel. “She’s hung up.”

The three of them burst out laughing.

“I’ve just had a thought,” Ruby said as Fi was leaving. “When Chanel gets her first foster placement, I’m going to need some extra help in the shop. I’ve got Annie, our student who does the odd weekend, but maybe you could help out, too, and Saul could babysit.”

Fi hugged her and said she would definitely think about it.

T
WO DAYS LATER
, Hannah Morgan came back to collect her triple buggy. She was still minus her twins and this time she was carrying Alfie in a baby sling.

“It’s the girl I was telling you about,” Ruby whispered to Chanel as the door opened. “The one with the wad of cash.” Chanel, who was in the middle of wrapping a christening shawl for a customer, looked up. “Maybe she’s a gangster’s moll,” she whispered back. Ruby dug her in the ribs and shushed her.

As Chanel’s customer walked away with her carrier bag, Hannah reached the counter. But it was Alfie who grabbed Chanel’s attention.

“Oh, what gorgeous hair,” she gasped. “It’s exactly the same color as my Craig’s.” While Ruby greeted Hannah, Chanel walked round to the other side of the counter and began cooing at Alfie, who was gurgling and blowing saliva bubbles. “’Ello precious,” she cooed, stroking his tiny chubby hand. “Aren’t you a big boy? Yes, you are.” She turned to Hannah and asked how old he was.

“Two months,” she said.

“So that would make him a Virgo or a Libra.”

“He’s a Libra.”

“Ooh, right little flirts they are when they grow up. I bet ’e’s going to break a few ’earts.”

Ruby couldn’t help noticing Hannah’s expression. She was smiling, but there was an emptiness in her eyes.

“I could eat you, little man, yes, I could,” Chanel carried on. “Oh, I love them at this age. They’re so perfect.”

“He’s still a bit small, though. He was eight weeks premature.”

“Couldn’t wait, eh?” Chanel said. “You silly sausage. I bet you didn’t ’alf give your mum a fright coming into the world that early.”

Ruby went to fetch Hannah’s triple buggy from the storeroom. When she got back, Chanel was cradling Alfie and blowing raspberries on his cheek. When sick trickled down his chin, she produced a clean tissue from her trouser pocket and gently wiped it away. “That’s better, isn’t it? We don’t want to send you home smelling of sick, do we?” She turned to Hannah. “Look, why doesn’t Ruby show you ’ow to put up the buggy while I look after Alfie.”

Hannah nodded. Chanel carried him across the shop and stopped next to a crib mobile. She turned the dial and it began to tinkle “Brahms Lullaby.”

“T
HESE TRIPLE BUGGIES
are real contraptions, I’m afraid,” Ruby said, cutting away the plastic covering with scissors. “But I’m sure you’ll soon get the hang of it.”

“I’m sure I will.” Hannah’s exhausted expression reminded Ruby of Fi when Connor was refusing to sleep.

“So, it must be really hard going with three little ones.”

“To be quite honest, it’s a total nightmare. My mum’s brilliant, but she lives in Leeds with my stepfather and doesn’t get down too often. When she goes home, it’s just me. No dad to help out, I’m afraid. I’m a single parent.” She must have seen the quizzical look on Ruby’s face. “I got pregnant with the twins while I was at university. I decided I could just about cope with a baby and carry on studying. The scan didn’t pick up that it was twins until I was five months gone. I was in shock for about a month afterward. I love them to bits now they’re here, but I had to give up uni. It hasn’t been easy.”

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“That’s what my mum says.”

“Listen,” Ruby said, “do you fancy a cup of tea? I was just about to put the kettle on.”

“I would absolutely love a cup of tea,” she said.

Ruby told Chanel to shout if a customer came in, then she disappeared into the kitchen. When she emerged carrying a tray of tea, Chanel was still playing with Alfie. Hannah seemed happy to leave them to it while she sat flicking through an old copy of
Hello!,
which had been lying on the counter. Ruby had just put the tray down when she became aware that Hannah had stopped turning the pages and was sitting staring at one particular picture. A full five seconds must have passed and she didn’t move.

“You OK?” Ruby said eventually.

Hannah jumped. “Yes. Fine…Actually, forget the tea. I really should get going.” With that she got up, took Alfie from Chanel and without stopping to put him in his harness, almost ran out of the shop.

“But, but…you’ve forgotten the stroller,” Ruby called after her, but she was gone.

“What was that about?” Ruby said to Chanel.

“God knows. Seems totally crazy if you ask me.”

Ruby said she didn’t think that Hannah was mad, just exhausted. She picked up the copy of
Hello!
It was still open at the page Hannah had been reading. There was a picture of a grief-stricken Claudia Planchette leaving St. Luke’s after losing her baby. Ruby slid the magazine toward Chanel. “It was an appalling thing to have happened, but I wonder why it upset Hannah so much.”

“Dunno. Maybe she knows her.”

Ruby said it seemed unlikely.

T
HAT NIGHT
, R
UBY
had dinner with Sam and he told her that now he was staying on at St. Luke’s, he had been given a new office. “It’s huge and it’s on the fifth floor with views over Holland Park.”

She said she’d love to see it.

“OK. I have some papers to pick up from the hospital. Maybe we could go after we’ve eaten.” No sooner had Ruby agreed to the plan when her mobile trilled. It was Phil to say Aunty Sylvia had turned up in floods of tears. “Your mother’s at yoga, then she’s going out with some of her girlfriends for something to eat. Sylvia’s in a real state. I wouldn’t normally ask, but you couldn’t come over, could you?”

“Dad, it’s a bit difficult. I’m in a restaurant having dinner with Sam and then he wants me to see his new office.”

“What is it?” Sam whispered.

“Hang on, Dad.” Ruby put her hand over the phone and explained to Sam about Aunty Sylvia.

“Look, we’ve almost finished eating,” Sam said. “You go. You can see the office anytime.”

“You absolutely sure?”

“Positive.”

Ruby dropped Sam home, and then drove on to her parents’ house. When she arrived, Aunty Sylvia was sitting on the sofa sobbing. Her eyes were red and swollen. “I’ll make some more tea,” Phil said, sounding flustered and clearly preferring to leave Ruby to deal with Aunty Sylvia.

“Aunty Sylvia, what on earth’s the matter?”

She sniffed and then reached into her handbag. “These. These are the matter.”

She was holding up a pair of women’s knickers. “I found them in Nigel’s underwear drawer.”

“But why were you looking through his drawers?”

“He’s away for a couple of weeks on business and I was watering his plants.”

“And you thought you’d hunt for evidence that he was seeing another woman.”

Aunty Sylvia dabbed her eyes and nodded. “And I found it.” More loud sobbing.

Ruby put her arm round her aunt. “Well, whoever he’s been seeing certainly doesn’t go in for sexy underwear,” Ruby said, relieving Aunty Sylvia of the flesh-colored Bridget Jones–style big knickers. “And she’s not exactly petite. Look at the label. Size eighteen.”

“I know. She’s even fatter than me. How could he be seeing somebody so fat and sexless? I don’t get it.”

Ruby asked if she had managed to speak to him.

“I phoned him and he’s adamant he hasn’t been seeing anybody. He says he can explain the pants and it isn’t what I think. What does he take me for, a complete idiot? Why are men such cowards? He’s clearly cheating on me. Why hasn’t he got the balls just to come out and say so?”

Ruby took a long deep breath. “Who knows?” When Aunty Sylvia started weeping again, Ruby sat holding her and rocking her back and forth. Phil hovered and generally looked out of place and awkward. By the time Ronnie arrived home just after eleven, he must have made half a dozen cups of tea.

“Good God,” Ronnie said when she saw the state Aunty Sylvia was in, “what on earth’s going on?”

By way of explanation, Aunty Sylvia held up the knickers again. Ruby described how Sylvia had come by them and what she suspected.

“Oh, Sylvia. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.” She turned to Ruby. “All right, sweetie, you go home. You’ve done brilliantly. I can take over now.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Ruby kissed Aunty Sylvia good-bye and said she would phone to check on her in the morning.

“This man is a total, utter and complete bastard,” Ronnie snarled as she sat down and hugged her sister. Ruby couldn’t help observing that for once her mother wasn’t trying to analyze the situation, she was just reacting, which was precisely what Aunty Sylvia needed.

R
UBY LAY IN
bed thinking about what a piece of work Nigel really was. How dare he treat Aunty Sylvia like this? It was odd because he’d come across as such a decent bloke. Admittedly he could bore on rather, and then there were his eyebrows. Aunty Sylvia had insisted they were natural, but they hadn’t looked natural to Ruby. As she gazed up at the shadows dancing on the bedroom ceiling, an idea—and an unsavory one at that—started to take shape in her mind. Effeminate eyebrows. A drawer full of big knickers. No. Surely not. He couldn’t be. Could he? Poor old Aunty Sylvia. Then again, she’d read that loads of apparently normal heterosexual men were; and man-wise, Aunty Sylvia was always up for a project. She was the first to admit that Nigel was a bit lacking in this department. Having said that, Nigel might turn out to be a project too far.