Shopaholic and Sister
Page 6
“Hearty stew?” echoes Luke. “Who’s going to make hearty stew?”
“We can buy it at Waitrose,” I explain.
I come round the table and look up at him earnestly. “Luke, think about it. We’ll never again be in Sri Lanka with authentic wood-carvers right in front of us. This is a unique opportunity. And I’ve had it personalized!”
I point to the panel of wood running down the side of the table. There, beautifully carved in among the flowers, are the words Luke and Rebecca, Sri Lanka, 2003.
Luke runs a hand over the table. He feels the weight of one of the chairs. I can see him relenting. Then suddenly he looks up with a slight frown.
“Becky, is there anything else you’ve bought that you haven’t told me about?”
I feel a nervous flip inside, which I disguise by pretending to examine one of the carved flowers.
“Of course not!” I say at last. “Or… you know. Maybe just the odd little souvenir along the way. Just here and there.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t remember!” I exclaim. “It’s been ten months, for goodness’ sake!” I look at the table again. “Come on, Luke, you must love it. We can have fantastic dinner parties… and it’ll be an heirloom! We can hand it down to our children—”
I break off a bit awkwardly. For a moment I can’t quite look at Luke.
A few months ago we had this huge big discussion and decided that we’d like to try for a baby. But so far nothing’s happened.
I mean, not that it’s a big deal or anything. It will happen. Of course it will.
“All right,” says Luke, his voice a little gentler. “You’ve won me over.” He gives the table a pat, then looks at his watch. “I’m going to e-mail the office, tell them about our change of plans.” He gives me a wry look. “Presumably you weren’t expecting me to burst open the door of the boardroom and yell ‘Surprise, I’m back!’?”
“Of course not!” I retort, barely missing a beat.
That is, actually, kind of what I’d pictured. Except I’d be there too, with a bottle of champagne and maybe some party poppers.
“I’m not quite that stupid,” I add witheringly.
“Good.” Luke grins at me. “Why don’t you order us some drinks and I’ll be out in a moment.”
As I sit down at a table on the shady terrace, I’m just a tad preoccupied. I’m trying to remember all the things I’ve bought and had shipped home without telling Luke.
I mean, I’m not worried or anything. It can’t be that much stuff. Can it?
Oh God. I close my eyes, trying to remember.
There were the wooden giraffes in Malawi. The ones Luke said were too big. Which is just ridiculous. They’ll look amazing! Everyone will admire them!
And there was all that gorgeous batik art in Bali. Which I did intend to tell him about… but then kind of never got round to it.
And there were the twenty Chinese silk dressing gowns.
Which… OK, I know twenty sounds like quite a lot. But they were such a bargain! Luke just didn’t seem to understand my point that if we bought twenty now, they would last us a lifetime and be a real investment. For someone who works in financial PR, he can be a bit slow off the mark sometimes.
So I snuck back to the shop and bought them anyway, and had them shipped home.
The thing is, shipping just makes everything so easy. You don’t have to lug anything about — you just point and ship: “I’d like that shipped, please. And that. And that.” And you give them your card and off it goes, and Luke never even sees it…
Maybe I should have kept a list.
Anyway, it’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine.
And, I mean, we want a few souvenirs, don’t we? What’s the point of going round the world and coming back empty-handed? Exactly.
I see Chandra walking past the terrace and give him a friendly wave.
“You did very well in class today, Becky!” he says, and comes over to the table. “And now I would like to ask you something. In two weeks’ time I am leading an advanced meditation retreat. The others are mainly monks and long-term yoga practitioners, but I feel you have the commitment to join us. Would you be interested?”
“I’d love to!” Then I pull a regretful face. “But I can’t. Luke and I are going home!”
“Home?” Chandra looks shocked. “But… you are doing so well. You are not going to abandon the path of yoga?”
“Oh no,” I say reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy a video.”
“We can buy it at Waitrose,” I explain.
I come round the table and look up at him earnestly. “Luke, think about it. We’ll never again be in Sri Lanka with authentic wood-carvers right in front of us. This is a unique opportunity. And I’ve had it personalized!”
I point to the panel of wood running down the side of the table. There, beautifully carved in among the flowers, are the words Luke and Rebecca, Sri Lanka, 2003.
Luke runs a hand over the table. He feels the weight of one of the chairs. I can see him relenting. Then suddenly he looks up with a slight frown.
“Becky, is there anything else you’ve bought that you haven’t told me about?”
I feel a nervous flip inside, which I disguise by pretending to examine one of the carved flowers.
“Of course not!” I say at last. “Or… you know. Maybe just the odd little souvenir along the way. Just here and there.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t remember!” I exclaim. “It’s been ten months, for goodness’ sake!” I look at the table again. “Come on, Luke, you must love it. We can have fantastic dinner parties… and it’ll be an heirloom! We can hand it down to our children—”
I break off a bit awkwardly. For a moment I can’t quite look at Luke.
A few months ago we had this huge big discussion and decided that we’d like to try for a baby. But so far nothing’s happened.
I mean, not that it’s a big deal or anything. It will happen. Of course it will.
“All right,” says Luke, his voice a little gentler. “You’ve won me over.” He gives the table a pat, then looks at his watch. “I’m going to e-mail the office, tell them about our change of plans.” He gives me a wry look. “Presumably you weren’t expecting me to burst open the door of the boardroom and yell ‘Surprise, I’m back!’?”
“Of course not!” I retort, barely missing a beat.
That is, actually, kind of what I’d pictured. Except I’d be there too, with a bottle of champagne and maybe some party poppers.
“I’m not quite that stupid,” I add witheringly.
“Good.” Luke grins at me. “Why don’t you order us some drinks and I’ll be out in a moment.”
As I sit down at a table on the shady terrace, I’m just a tad preoccupied. I’m trying to remember all the things I’ve bought and had shipped home without telling Luke.
I mean, I’m not worried or anything. It can’t be that much stuff. Can it?
Oh God. I close my eyes, trying to remember.
There were the wooden giraffes in Malawi. The ones Luke said were too big. Which is just ridiculous. They’ll look amazing! Everyone will admire them!
And there was all that gorgeous batik art in Bali. Which I did intend to tell him about… but then kind of never got round to it.
And there were the twenty Chinese silk dressing gowns.
Which… OK, I know twenty sounds like quite a lot. But they were such a bargain! Luke just didn’t seem to understand my point that if we bought twenty now, they would last us a lifetime and be a real investment. For someone who works in financial PR, he can be a bit slow off the mark sometimes.
So I snuck back to the shop and bought them anyway, and had them shipped home.
The thing is, shipping just makes everything so easy. You don’t have to lug anything about — you just point and ship: “I’d like that shipped, please. And that. And that.” And you give them your card and off it goes, and Luke never even sees it…
Maybe I should have kept a list.
Anyway, it’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine.
And, I mean, we want a few souvenirs, don’t we? What’s the point of going round the world and coming back empty-handed? Exactly.
I see Chandra walking past the terrace and give him a friendly wave.
“You did very well in class today, Becky!” he says, and comes over to the table. “And now I would like to ask you something. In two weeks’ time I am leading an advanced meditation retreat. The others are mainly monks and long-term yoga practitioners, but I feel you have the commitment to join us. Would you be interested?”
“I’d love to!” Then I pull a regretful face. “But I can’t. Luke and I are going home!”
“Home?” Chandra looks shocked. “But… you are doing so well. You are not going to abandon the path of yoga?”
“Oh no,” I say reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy a video.”
