Mini Shopaholic
Page 76
The more I think about this theory, the more sure I feel that it’s true. It would explain so much about my life. In fact, I’m starting to feel a bit resentful towards all those people who’ve given me a hard time over the years. I bet they’d change their tune if they knew I suffered from a highly specialized medical condition.
‘It’s very dangerous for you to wake the person when they’re in a trance,’ I inform Luke. ‘It can give them a heart attack. You just have to let them carry on.’
‘I see.’ Luke’s mouth starts to twitch. ‘So if I see you buying up the whole of Jimmy Choo online in your PJs I just have to stand back and let you do it, otherwise you’ll die of a coronary?’
‘Only if it’s in the middle of the night and I’ve got a glassy stare,’ I explain.
‘My darling.’ Luke gives a short laugh. ‘It’s always in the middle of the night and you always have a glassy stare.’
He has such a nerve.
‘I do not have a glassy stare!’ I’m beginning furiously, as the guy returns from the van.
‘Here you are.’ He shoves a piece of paper at me. ‘Sixteen Miu Miu coats in green.’
‘Sixteen coats?’ I stare at the page disbelievingly. ‘Why on earth would I order sixteen coats, all the same colour and size?’
To be honest, I have looked at this coat online, and I even put it in my basket, but I never actually—
My thoughts stop mid-flow. A sudden, terrible picture is coming to me. My laptop, left open in the kitchen. The page open. Minnie, clambering on to a chair …
Oh my God, she can’t have done.
‘Minnie, did you press the buttons on Mummy’s computer?’ I turn to Minnie in horror.
‘You’re kidding.’ Luke looks staggered. ‘She couldn’t do that!’
‘She could! She can use a mouse easily. And that website has got a one-click button. If she just bashed at the keyboard enough times and clicked enough times …’
‘You mean to say, Minnie ordered these?’ Dad looks equally flabbergasted.
‘Well, if I didn’t, and Luke didn’t …’
‘Where shall I put them?’ The delivery guy interrupts us. ‘Inside the front door?’
‘No! I don’t want them! You’ll have to take them back.’
‘Can’t do that.’ He shakes his head. ‘If you want to return ‘em, you’ll have to take delivery, use the return form and send ‘em back.’
‘But what’s the point of taking delivery?’ I say in frustration. ‘I don’t want them.’
‘Well, next time you don’t want something, can I suggest you don’t order it?’ says the delivery guy, and gives a hoarse chuckle at his own wit. Next thing I know, he’s lifting a big box down from the back of the van. It’s about the size of Dad.
‘Is that all of them? Actually, it’s not as bad as I thought.’
‘That’s one.’ The guy corrects me. ‘Come individually packaged on a hanging rail, they do.’ Already he’s hefting down another one. I stare in horror. What are we going to do with sixteen great big coats in boxes?
‘You are a naughty, naughty girl, Minnie.’ I can’t help taking it out on her. ‘You do not order Miu Miu coats off the internet. And I am going to … to … cut your pocket money this week!’
‘Miiiine box!’ Minnie reaches longingly towards the boxes, her honey sandwich still in her hand.
‘What’s all this?’ Mum appears out of the front door. ‘What are these?’ She gestures at the massive boxes. They look like upturned coffins, standing there in a row.
‘There’s been a mix-up,’ I say hurriedly. ‘They’re not staying. I’m going to return them as soon as I can.’
‘That’s eight …’ The guy hefts another one down. He’s enjoying this, I can tell.
‘There are sixteen in all,’ says Dad. ‘Maybe we can fit some in the garage.’
‘But the garage is full!’ says Mum.
‘Or the dining room …’
‘No.’ Mum starts shaking her head wildly. ‘No. No. Becky, this really is enough. Do you hear me? It’s enough! We can’t deal with any more of your stuff!’
‘It’s only for a day or two …’
‘That’s what you always say! That’s what you said when you moved in here! We can’t do it any more! We can’t deal with your stuff any more!’ She sounds hysterical.
‘It’s only another two weeks, Jane.’ Dad takes hold of her shoulders. ‘Come on now. Another two weeks. We can do it. We’re going to count it down, day by day, remember? One day at a time. Yes?’
‘It’s very dangerous for you to wake the person when they’re in a trance,’ I inform Luke. ‘It can give them a heart attack. You just have to let them carry on.’
‘I see.’ Luke’s mouth starts to twitch. ‘So if I see you buying up the whole of Jimmy Choo online in your PJs I just have to stand back and let you do it, otherwise you’ll die of a coronary?’
‘Only if it’s in the middle of the night and I’ve got a glassy stare,’ I explain.
‘My darling.’ Luke gives a short laugh. ‘It’s always in the middle of the night and you always have a glassy stare.’
He has such a nerve.
‘I do not have a glassy stare!’ I’m beginning furiously, as the guy returns from the van.
‘Here you are.’ He shoves a piece of paper at me. ‘Sixteen Miu Miu coats in green.’
‘Sixteen coats?’ I stare at the page disbelievingly. ‘Why on earth would I order sixteen coats, all the same colour and size?’
To be honest, I have looked at this coat online, and I even put it in my basket, but I never actually—
My thoughts stop mid-flow. A sudden, terrible picture is coming to me. My laptop, left open in the kitchen. The page open. Minnie, clambering on to a chair …
Oh my God, she can’t have done.
‘Minnie, did you press the buttons on Mummy’s computer?’ I turn to Minnie in horror.
‘You’re kidding.’ Luke looks staggered. ‘She couldn’t do that!’
‘She could! She can use a mouse easily. And that website has got a one-click button. If she just bashed at the keyboard enough times and clicked enough times …’
‘You mean to say, Minnie ordered these?’ Dad looks equally flabbergasted.
‘Well, if I didn’t, and Luke didn’t …’
‘Where shall I put them?’ The delivery guy interrupts us. ‘Inside the front door?’
‘No! I don’t want them! You’ll have to take them back.’
‘Can’t do that.’ He shakes his head. ‘If you want to return ‘em, you’ll have to take delivery, use the return form and send ‘em back.’
‘But what’s the point of taking delivery?’ I say in frustration. ‘I don’t want them.’
‘Well, next time you don’t want something, can I suggest you don’t order it?’ says the delivery guy, and gives a hoarse chuckle at his own wit. Next thing I know, he’s lifting a big box down from the back of the van. It’s about the size of Dad.
‘Is that all of them? Actually, it’s not as bad as I thought.’
‘That’s one.’ The guy corrects me. ‘Come individually packaged on a hanging rail, they do.’ Already he’s hefting down another one. I stare in horror. What are we going to do with sixteen great big coats in boxes?
‘You are a naughty, naughty girl, Minnie.’ I can’t help taking it out on her. ‘You do not order Miu Miu coats off the internet. And I am going to … to … cut your pocket money this week!’
‘Miiiine box!’ Minnie reaches longingly towards the boxes, her honey sandwich still in her hand.
‘What’s all this?’ Mum appears out of the front door. ‘What are these?’ She gestures at the massive boxes. They look like upturned coffins, standing there in a row.
‘There’s been a mix-up,’ I say hurriedly. ‘They’re not staying. I’m going to return them as soon as I can.’
‘That’s eight …’ The guy hefts another one down. He’s enjoying this, I can tell.
‘There are sixteen in all,’ says Dad. ‘Maybe we can fit some in the garage.’
‘But the garage is full!’ says Mum.
‘Or the dining room …’
‘No.’ Mum starts shaking her head wildly. ‘No. No. Becky, this really is enough. Do you hear me? It’s enough! We can’t deal with any more of your stuff!’
‘It’s only for a day or two …’
‘That’s what you always say! That’s what you said when you moved in here! We can’t do it any more! We can’t deal with your stuff any more!’ She sounds hysterical.
‘It’s only another two weeks, Jane.’ Dad takes hold of her shoulders. ‘Come on now. Another two weeks. We can do it. We’re going to count it down, day by day, remember? One day at a time. Yes?’
