Mini Shopaholic (25 page)

I nod absently, watching Luke. He’s moved away from the cab, but I’m pretty sure he’s yelling at somebody. And I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like Minnie to hear his language.

Is he having a row with Sage Seymour? Is he breaking things off with her before I’ve even had a chance to meet her and become her best friend? If so, I will
kill
him.

‘… and they had a touch-up area for all the celebrities!’ Janice finishes with a flourish. ‘You see?’

I must have missed a beat somewhere.

‘Sorry, Janice.’ I smile apologetically. ‘I wasn’t quite following you.’

‘I’m a
make-up artist
, love,’ she says as though it’s obvious. ‘And I’d like to volunteer to host a little touch-up area myself. I’ll make up all the guests! It will be my gift to Luke.’

I’m speechless. Janice is
not
a make-up artist. She did one course at the adult-learning institute, and learned how to apply peach blusher and highlighter in badger stripes to a plastic dummy’s cheeks. And now she wants to make up people at my party?

‘Janice … that’s so sweet,’ I say as convincingly as I can. ‘But you mustn’t miss the fun.’

‘We’d have shifts!’ she says triumphantly. ‘I’ve got a team of chums, you know! We were all on the course together, so we all use the same techniques.’

The idea of a team of Janices, all clutching palettes of frosted eyeshadow, makes me feel a bit faint.

‘Right,’ I manage. ‘Well, that would be really … something.’

OK. I need to put this on my to-do list, right at the top.
Do NOT let Janice do any make-up on the guests
.

‘Better go,’ she breathes dramatically. ‘Luke approaching at one o’clock.’

Before I can say anything else, she’s slipped away to her car, just as Luke gets back into the driver’s cab.

‘Unbelievable.’ He’s breathing fast and his jaw is rock-hard. ‘Unbe
liev
able.’

‘What is it?’ I say nervously. ‘And don’t swear in front of Minnie.’

‘Becky, I’ve got bad news.’ Luke looks directly at me. ‘The townhouse has fallen through. We can’t have it.’

For a nano-second I think he must be joking. But his face doesn’t flicker.

‘But …’

‘Some fucking moron at the office rented it to another tenant. They’ve already taken possession and our agent has only just realized.’

‘But it’s
ours
!’ My voice is rising in panic. ‘We
need
that house!’

‘I know. Believe me, they know it, too. They’re finding us an alternative within the hour or we’re checking into a hotel at their expense.’ He exhales. ‘What a total fuck-up.’

I feel a bit light-headed. This can’t be happening.

‘I’d better tell your parents …’ Luke makes to get out.

‘No!’ I almost squeal. ‘We can’t!’

‘Well, what do
you
suggest doing?’

I can see Mum waving at me from the Volvo, and a moment later a text comes through on my phone.

Ready to go, love?

‘Let’s just drive to Maida Vale.’ I lick my dry lips. ‘We might as well. And hopefully the agents will call on the way. We can busk it somehow.’

Alf has hoisted himself back into the cab.

‘Ready, folks?’

‘Yes,’ I say, before Luke can speak. ‘Drive. Go.’

It’ll take us an hour to get to Maida Vale, I’m thinking. At least. And in the meantime they’ll sort us out with another house and we’ll go there and it’ll all be fine. It has to be.

Except it only takes forty minutes to reach Maida Vale. I can’t believe it. Where’s all the traffic gone? Is there a conspiracy against us?

We’re driving up the main shopping road and we still don’t have a house. My exterior is strangely calm, even though my heart is galloping with panic. As long as we keep driving, we’re OK.

‘Go more slowly,’ I tell Alf yet again. ‘Go some winding back route. Go down there!’ I point at a narrow little street.

‘No left turn,’ says Alf, shaking his head.

We’ve told Alf the whole story. Or at least, he worked it out for himself, after Luke had a shouting match with the agent. (Luckily Minnie’s fallen asleep. Two-year-olds can sleep through
anything.)
Luke’s started calling other rental agencies as well – but so far, no one’s got a house available that can be moved into within the next twenty minutes. I feel like screaming with frustration. Where are all the houses? And where’s all the
traffic?

I glance into the wing mirror, just in case by any chance Mum and Dad have peeled off or got lost – but there they still are, sticking to us like glue. Luke’s listening to a message on his phone and I gaze hopefully at him, but he shakes his head.

‘So where d’you want me to go now?’ Alf pauses at a junction, rests his arms on the throbbing steering wheel and looks at me.

‘I don’t know,’ I say desperately. ‘Could you just … circle?’

‘Circle?’
He gives me a sardonic look. ‘Do I look like a plane?’

‘Please. Just for a bit.’

Shaking his head, Alf signals left and turns down a residential street. We go along the canal, then up another residential street and are almost immediately back where we started.

‘That was too quick!’ I say in dismay.

Sure enough, a moment later, a text comes through from Mum:

Darling, is your driver lost? We’ve been down this road before. Dad says, what’s the address, he’ll use his sat nav.

‘Becky.’ Luke has come off the phone. ‘We can’t just drive round Maida Vale until we have a house.’

‘Any luck, squire?’ says Alf. He seems to have a new respect for Luke ever since he heard him swearing at the agent. In fact, despite all his sardonic little looks, I think he’s enjoying the drama.

‘None,’ replies Luke. ‘Becky, we’re going to have to come clean.’

‘No. Not yet. Let’s … let’s stop for lunch!’ I say in sudden inspiration. ‘We’ll find a coffee shop or something. Luke, here’s the plan. I’ll keep Mum and Dad entertained, and you go and see the agent, and
force
him to give us a house.’

Alf rolls his eyes with forbearance and is soon trying to manoeuvre the lorry into a space opposite a Café Rouge. I watch the others pulling over too, and Janice getting out to guide Martin with lots of beckoning and pointing and ‘Careful, Martin!’

I unbuckle Minnie and we all get out, stretching our legs. I feel like we’ve been on some massive road trip, not just driven up from Oxshott.

‘Hi!’ I wave at the others, trying to look relaxed and cheery, like this was always the plan.

‘What’s going on, love?’ Mum is first to reach us. ‘Is this it?’ She’s peering at all the flats above the shops, as though one might suddenly turn out to be a family house with a basement and a garden and two parking spaces.

‘Trust Becky to live among the shops.’ Martin gives a chortle at his own wit.

‘No, this isn’t where we’re going to live!’ I laugh as naturally as I can manage. ‘We’re stopping for lunch.’

There’s a baffled silence.

‘Lunch
, love?’ says Janice at last. ‘But it’s only twenty past ten.’

‘Yes, well. The … um … The lorry driver has to have lunch. It’s union regulations,’ I improvise, and shoot a meaningful look at Alf. ‘Isn’t it, Alf?’

‘But we must be only a few minutes away from the house,’ says Mum. ‘This is ridiculous!’

‘I know,’ I say hurriedly. ‘But the union’s really strict. We don’t have a choice.’

‘Don’t blame me,’ says Alf, playing along. ‘I don’t make the rules.’

‘For goodness’ sake,’ says Dad impatiently. ‘I’ve never heard such nonsense.’ He turns to Alf. ‘Now, look here. Couldn’t you drop Becky at the house and
then
have lunch?’

‘Rules is rules,’ says Alf, shaking his head implacably. ‘I break ‘em, I’m up before a disciplinary tribunal and that’s my job on the line, that is. I’ll go and have my well-earned break and you let me know when you’re ready to go, all right, my love?’ He gives me a wink and heads into Café Rouge.

God, he’s fantastic. I feel like giving him a hug.

‘Well!’ Mum seems outraged.
‘Now
we know what’s wrong with this country! Who wrote these rules, anyway? I’m writing to the
Daily World
, and the Prime Minister …’

As we troop into Café Rouge she casts Alf a baleful look, and he waves cheerfully back.

‘Everyone should order lots,’ I say as we find a table. ‘I mean, we’ll be here a while, waiting for Alf. Have a sandwich, a croissant, a steak … it’s all on me … Minnie,
no.’
I hastily remove the sugar lumps before she can grab them all.

‘Where’s Luke?’ says Mum suddenly.

‘He’s at the estate agent’s,’ I say truthfully.

‘Getting the keys, I expect,’ says Dad, nodding cheerfully. ‘I think I’ll have a panini.’

*

I try to spin out lunch for as long as I can. But no one wants steak at ten twenty in the morning, and there’s only so many croissants you can eat. We’ve each had two cappuccinos, and Luke still hasn’t texted any good news, and Minnie’s already bored with all the toys in the play box. And now, to my alarm, Mum and Dad are getting fidgety.

‘This is ridiculous!’ Mum suddenly says, as she watches Alf order yet another hot chocolate. ‘I’m not waiting around here for some jobsworth driver to finish his lunch! Graham, you wait here and Becky and I will walk to the house. We can walk from here, can’t we, love?’

I feel a stab of alarm.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mum,’ I say hurriedly. ‘I think we should wait for Luke and all go in the van.’

‘Don’t be silly! We’ll call Luke and tell him we’re going straight there. We can pick the keys up on the way. What’s the address? Is it near?’

Mum’s already gathering her things together and picking up Minnie’s mittens. This isn’t good. I need to keep everyone contained in Café Rouge.

‘I’m not sure exactly where it is,’ I say hastily. ‘Really, it would be much better to wait. Let’s have another coffee—’

‘No problem!’ Janice has produced a little A–Z bound in red leather. ‘I never travel anywhere without it,’ she explains brightly. ‘Now, what’s the name of your new road, Becky? I’ll be able to locate it in a trice!’

Shit.

Everyone’s looking at me expectantly. The minute I say the name of the road they’ll walk there and find out the truth.

‘I … um …’ I rub my nose, playing for time. ‘I … can’t remember.’

‘You can’t
remember?’
says Janice uncertainly. ‘Your own address?’

‘Love,’ says Mum with barely concealed impatience. ‘You must know where you live!’

‘I just don’t remember the exact name of the street! I think it begins with … B,’ I add randomly.

‘Well, ring Luke!’

‘He’s not answering,’ I say hastily. ‘He must be busy.’

Mum and Dad are exchanging looks, as though they never realized they had such a half-wit for a daughter.

‘I’m not sitting here any longer!’ Mum clicks her tongue. ‘Becky, you said it was only a few streets away from the shops. We’ll just walk around and you’re bound to recognize it when we come to it. Graham, you wait here for Luke.’

She’s standing up. There’s nothing I can do. I shoot an agonized glance at Alf, and call, ‘Just going for a walk!’

‘Now,
think
, Becky,’ says Mum, as we all pile on to the street except Dad. ‘Which direction is it?’

‘Er … that way, I think.’ I immediately point in the opposite direction to the house, and we all start trooping along.

‘Is it Barnsdale Road?’ Janice is running a finger down the A-Z index. ‘Barnwood Close?’

‘I don’t
think
so …’

‘Becky, love!’ Mum suddenly erupts. ‘How can you not remember the name of your own street? You’re a
home-owner
. You have to take
responsibility
! You have to—’

‘Daddy!’ says Minnie in sudden joyful tones. ‘Daddeee!’

She’s pointing inside the nearby glass frontage of the estate agent’s office. There’s Luke, right in the window, laying into Magnus, who looks absolutely terrified.

Shit
. Why did I come this way?

‘Is that your estate agent?’ Mum glances up at the ‘Ripley and Co’. ‘Well, that’s all right! We can go in, find out the address and get the keys from them! Well done, Minnie, darling!’

‘Luke seems rather cross about something,’ Janice observes, as Luke starts making savage gestures at Magnus. ‘Is it the fixtures and fittings, love? Because my advice is, it’s not worth it. Let them
take
the shower curtain. Don’t end up in court, like my brother did—’

‘Come on, Becky!’ Mum is halfway towards the door. ‘What’s wrong?’

I’m rooted to the spot.

‘Mum …’ My voice is a bit strangled. ‘There’s … something I need to tell you. About the house. The truth is … I haven’t been totally honest.’

Mum stops dead. As she turns, there are little spots of pink on her cheeks.

‘I knew it. I
knew
there was something. You’ve been hiding something from us, Becky! What is it?’ Her face drops as though with a sudden horrific thought. ‘Is there no off-street parking?’

I hear sharp inhalations from both Janice and Martin. In Surrey, parking is practically a religion.

‘It’s not that. It’s …’ My breath is coming so quickly I can barely talk. ‘It’s …’

‘Mrs Brandon.’ A man in a suit whom I don’t recognize is hurrying out of the estate agent’s on to the pavement. ‘David Ripley, managing partner.’ He holds out a hand. ‘Please don’t stand out here in the cold. Let me offer you a cup of coffee at least. I’m well aware of your unfortunate situation, and believe me, we are doing
everything
in our power to find you a home, as
soon
as possible.’

I can’t look at Mum. I can’t look at anyone. The only thing that can save me now is a freak tornado.

‘Find Becky a home?’ Mum echoes uncertainly.

‘We’re devastated about the rental property mix-up,’ David Ripley continues. ‘Your deposit will be refunded immediately—’

‘Rental
property?’

The sharpness in Mum’s voice even gets through to David Ripley, who turns at once.