Mini Shopaholic
Page 146
‘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.
‘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.
