Mini Shopaholic (40 page)

‘Who else? Um …’ I meet Bonnie’s eyes and want to laugh. ‘Quite a few people. Most of the City.’

‘The readership of the
Daily World,’
adds Bonnie. ‘And the
Standard
City Diary, and the
Mail
just ran a little piece.’

‘You’ve got messages from three members of the Royal Family,’ puts in Suze brightly.

‘Don’t forget YouTube!’ puts in Dad. ‘Hundred thousand hits at the latest count!’

Luke looks as though we all must have gone mad. ‘You’re joking,’ he says and we all shake our heads.

‘Wait till you see the tributes!’ says Mum. ‘And you’ve got your own Happy Birthday website!’

‘But … this is crazy.’ Luke puts a hand to his head. ‘I
never
celebrate my birthday. Who on earth …’

‘Becky’s been very busy,’ Bonnie says.

‘Trying to keep it
secret
!’ I exclaim indignantly. ‘Trying to
stop
people blabbing and posting stuff on the internet! It’s been like trying to keep control of an octopus.’

‘A drink, sir?’ A stunning male model wearing one of Danny’s
Midsummer Night’s Dream
costumes appears from nowhere. His thighs are clad in fur and there’s a wreath of leaves round his head, and his chest is bare and tanned, and
very
honed. (I think this is Danny’s own fantasy interpretation of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
, i.e. basically just a forest full of hot men.)

The male model is holding out a wooden tray which looks like a slice of tree, bearing cocktails with silver tags. ‘I can offer you a Brandon, a Bloomwood, or a Minnie. And then if you and your wife would like to get changed before the show?’

‘The show?’ Luke turns to me. I raise my eyebrows mysteriously and squeeze his hand again.

‘Wait and see.’

It’s the most incredible, blow-your-mind party. It just is.

I mean, I know I helped organize it and everything, so I shouldn’t boast. I should be all modest and self-deprecating and say, ‘Oh, it was OK, I suppose,’ or ‘As parties go, it wasn’t bad,’ and shrug and change the subject and talk about the weather.

But too bad, I’m not going to, I’m going to tell you the
truth
. Which is that it’s the most out-of-this-world party and everyone’s said so, even people who go to loads of parties like the Right Reverend St John Gardner-Stone, who turns out to be a total sweetie with a good line in knock-knock jokes.

Everything so far has gone perfectly. When Luke had put on his dinner jacket and I was in my divine green dress, we took our seats on little chairs around the hall, drinks in hands, and a circus dance troupe performed the most amazing acrobatics all around us in the trees of the forest, with thumping music and laser lights flashing.

Then came the fire-eaters – a Czech troupe who do all kinds of amazing stunts. (They included Alonzo/Alvin in the routine, because I told them they had to, and he looked totally terrified and exhilarated all the way through.)

Then a massive screen came down from the ceiling, another soundtrack played, and all the YouTube tributes to Luke began, and I nearly cried.

OK. I did kind of blink away a few tears.

Not that any of them were any
good
. I mean, seeing a bunch of marketing executives from Kettering do a rubbishy ‘Happy birthday Luke da man’ rap into a shaky mobile phone isn’t exactly
The Shawshank Redemption
. But it was the fact of them. People I don’t even know, wishing Luke a happy birthday.

Then we had video messages from all the friends who couldn’t be here, like Michael and Luke’s dad, followed by the text messages from the website, flashing up, one after another. And finally a clip I didn’t even know about, which Suze had been emailed ten minutes before we arrived, apparently. It starts off with Sage Seymour, on her film set, sitting on a director’s chair, saying ‘Luke, honey, where the hell ARE you?’ and pretending he’s supposed to be doing a scene with her, and it ends up with all the cast and crew wishing him happy birthday. Even the really famous ones.

As soon as Sage appeared on the screen, Luke’s head whipped round to me, and he said, ‘How
the fuck
—’

And I couldn’t help giggling, and whispering in his ear, ‘Luke, just face it. There’s no point trying to keep any secrets from me.’

I was expecting him to laugh, but he didn’t. To be honest he looked a teeny bit freaked.

Then we sat down for the most amazing feast in the Long Gallery, which was decorated with flower garlands and yet more plastic pom-poms. (I really did make a
lot.)
There were loads of speeches and Luke thanked everyone a zillion times and I thanked everyone a zillion times. Then Luke made a really touching speech about Annabel and the toy theatre and how special those memories were to him, and how he’d bought the same theatre for Minnie and hoped she would have the same memories of
him
one day. And everyone dabbed at their eyes.

Oh, and he said some nice stuff about me. You know.

Then the coffee came round with Suze’s special ‘Luke’s Walnut Shortbread’ and everybody oohed and aahed again, and I met Suze’s eyes and silently mouthed ‘Thank you’.

Then the band appeared on stage in the East Hall (all Suze’s rooms have names). And now there’s dancing in there and mood-music-and-lounging-around-on-sofas in another huge room and people are still milling around the
Midsummer Night’s Dream
room, and later on there’ll be ice-cream and fireworks and a stand-up comedian, only Luke doesn’t know that yet.

I’m watching him from my perch by the brook. He’s surrounded by old friends, holding Minnie in his arms, and I haven’t seen his face lit up like that for …

I don’t know. Way too long.

I’m just wondering which kind of cocktail to move on to next, when Suze comes swooshing up to me in her dress –which, I have to admit, is almost more fabulous than mine. It’s dark purple with a train and she got it in Paris from Christian Dior and wouldn’t tell me how much it cost, which means it was a
squillion
.

‘Bex, I don’t know what to do about …’ She pauses, then mouths, ‘Elinor.’

‘What about her?’ I look nervously around to check Luke isn’t in earshot. Suze leans close and breathes in my ear, ‘She’s still here.’

I feel a bolt of shock. She’s
here?

Elinor told me a million times that she wasn’t staying for the party. She said she was leaving half an hour before we arrived. I just assumed she had.

‘But where …’ I look wildly around.

‘It’s my fault.’ Suze’s face crumples. ‘I just couldn’t
bear
for her not to see any of it. Not after everything she’s done. I knew she couldn’t actually
come
to the party … so I said, would she like to hide in the Priest’s Passage and watch?’

Suze glances up meaningfully and I follow her gaze. There’s a tiny iron balcony at first-floor level, which I’ve never really noticed. But it’s empty.

‘I don’t understand,’ I say stupidly. ‘Where is she?’

‘Hidden behind a secret panel, looking out through a spyhole.’ Suze chews her lip anxiously. ‘She said she only wanted to see you and Luke arrive and know that everything had worked. She said she’d slip away after that. But I just got Tarkie to go and check her car – and it hasn’t left. She must still be there! She hasn’t had any food, she’s just standing in this tiny space … and I’m worried. What if she gets ill? I mean, how
old
is she?’

Oh God. This could all go horribly wrong.

I glance over at Luke – but he’s laughing at something and doesn’t even notice me. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

The stairs up to the Priest’s Passage are tiny and narrow and musty, and I clutch my precious Valentino dress to me. As Suze cautiously pushes open the old wooden door, it’s Elinor’s shoulders I see first – narrow and rigid. Her face is pressed right up to the panel in front of her and she looks like a statue. She hasn’t even heard us.

‘Elinor?’ I whisper, and she whips round, a fleeting look of panic on her pale face.

‘It’s fine! It’s me and Suze. We’ve brought you a snack.’ I offer her a plate of mini desserts from dinner, but she shrinks away.

‘I must go.’

‘No! You don’t have to. We just wanted to make sure you were all right.’

‘Luke doesn’t suspect I’m here?’

‘No. Not at all.’

There’s silence. Elinor resumes her watch and I glance at Suze, who gives me a ‘What do we do now?’ shrug.

‘Luke and Minnie seem very close,’ says Elinor, her eye pressed right up against the spyhole. ‘He has a natural manner with her.’

‘Um … yes.’

‘With your parents, too.’

I don’t reply. This is all too surreal. How did I get into this situation? How can I be standing in a tiny cramped hole with my rich-bitch mother-in-law, both of us hiding from the man who links us?

And how can I be feeling like I want to give her a great big, warm, proper family hug? Like I want to gather her in, away from this dark, distant hiding hole, into the light and warmth of the party? She’s never seemed so vulnerable and alone as she does right now. And it’s because of her that we’re all having the time of our lives.

‘It’s just wonderful down there.’ I put a hand out cautiously and squeeze her arm. ‘Everyone’s said it’s the best party they’ve ever been to.’

‘Luke has enjoyed it?’ She turns.

‘Oh my God, yes! He’s bowled over! Did you see his
face?’

‘You’ve made his year!’ Suze nods enthusiastically. ‘He’s so touched. He’s been round the whole forest, looking at every detail. It’s so clever.’

Elinor says nothing, but I see the tiniest flicker of satisfaction in her eyes. And suddenly I can’t bear it. This is all wrong. I want Luke to know. I want everyone to know. There was a massive driving force behind tonight, and it was Luke’s mother.

‘Elinor, come down.’ The words spill out before I can stop them. ‘Come down and join the party.’ I hear Suze’s astonished gasp, but ignore it. ‘Come on. I’ll make things OK with Luke.’

‘I fear that will be impossible.’

‘No it won’t!’

‘I must leave. Now. I have stayed too long.’ Elinor has unclasped her handbag and is pulling on a pair of kid gloves. Oh God, now I’ve frightened her away.

‘Look, I know you’ve had difficulties, you two,’ I say cajolingly. ‘But this is the perfect time to mend them. At his party! And when he knows you were behind all this … he’ll love you! He’ll
have
to love you!’

‘That’s precisely why I cannot go down.’ Her voice sounds so harsh that I flinch – though it might just be because of the dusty air up here. ‘I did not fund this party in order to win Luke’s love in some ostentatious way.’

‘That’s not … I didn’t mean …’

‘I will not go down. I will not join in the festivities. I will not have him knowing that I was any part of tonight. You will never tell him.
Never
, do you hear me, Rebecca?’

Her eyes flash at me furiously and I recoil in fright. For all the vulnerability, she can still be pretty scary.

‘OK!’ I gulp.

‘There are no conditions attached to tonight. I have done this for Luke.’ She’s looking again through the spyhole. ‘I have done this for Luke,’ she repeats, almost as though to herself.

There’s a long silence. Suze and I are glancing at each other nervously but neither of us dares speak.

‘If I went down, if I were to make myself known as the benefactor, I would have done it for myself.’ She turns and regards me evenly, her eyes giving nothing away. ‘As you said so clearly, an unconditional act does not require reward.’

God, she’s hard on herself. If it were me I’d make up some reason why I could do it all for Luke, be the noble benefactor
and
go to the party.

‘So … you’ll never tell him?’ I venture. ‘Ever? He’ll never know it was you?’

‘He will never know.’ She looks at Suze dispassionately. ‘Please stand aside so I can leave.’

That’s it? No high fives, group hugs, let’s-do-this-again?

‘Elinor … wait.’ I hold out my arms, but she doesn’t react, so I shuffle towards her in the tiny space, but she
still
doesn’t seem to know what I’m doing. So at last I wrap my arms gingerly around her bony frame, feeling like Minnie when she randomly hugs a tree in the park.

I can’t quite believe this is happening. I’m hugging Elinor.

Me. Hugging
Elinor
. Because I
want
to.

‘Thanks,’ I murmur. ‘For everything.’

Elinor draws away, looking stiffer than ever. She nods briefly to me and Suze, then slips through the wooden door.

‘Will anyone see her?’ I mutter anxiously to Suze, who shakes her head.

‘There’s a back way out. I showed her earlier.’

I lean against the dusty old wall and breathe out heavily. ‘Wow.’

‘I know.’

Our eyes meet through the dimness, and I know Suze is thinking all the same thoughts I am.

‘D’you think he’ll ever know it was her?’

‘Dunno.’ I shake my head. ‘I just … don’t know.’ I glance through the spyhole again. ‘Come on. We’d better go down.’

The party is in full swell downstairs. Guests are milling around everywhere, holding drinks, wearing their silver party hats (we had crackers at dinner), wandering around the midsummer forest and looking at the waterfall, which is now lit up with amazing coloured lights, or gathered around the roulette tables. The catering staff are circulating with tiny little passion-fruit sorbets on individual spoons. Danny’s models are stalking around in their spectacular
Midsummer Night’s Dream
costumes, looking like they’ve popped in from a magic faraway land. There’s echoing laughter everywhere, and chatter, and the thud-thud of the band reverberating through the floor, and every so often the flash of a laser from the show. I must go and dance again in a minute.

I head towards the cocktail bar, where a bartender flown in especially from New York is entertaining a small crowd with cocktail-shaker tricks. There, to my astonishment, I find Janice and Jess clinking glasses with massive warm, friendly smiles.