Shopaholic and Sister
Page 93
“It’s no trouble,” says Kelly, as I take the first delicious sip. God, a cup of tea is the answer to everything.
“Is that…” I look up, to see Kelly suddenly gawping at my bag with eyes like dinner plates. It must have been hidden behind the hatbox before. “Is that… a real Angel bag?”
I feel a huge inward twinge, which I manage to hide with a weak smile. If she only knew.
“Yes. It’s a real Angel bag.”
“Dad, she’s got an Angel bag!” Kelly exclaims to Jim, who’s unloading bags of sugar from a box. “I showed you about them in Glamour magazine!” Her eyes are shining with excitement. “All the film stars have got them! They’ve sold out at Harrods! Where did you get yours?”
“In… Milan,” I say after a pause.
“Milan!” breathes Kelly. “That’s so cool!” Now her eyes have fallen on the contents of my makeup bag. “Is that Stila lip gloss?”
“Er… yes.”
“Emily Masters has got Stila lip gloss,” she says wistfully. “She thinks she’s all that.”
I look at her lit-up eyes and flushed cheeks, and suddenly I want to be thirteen again. Going to the shops on Saturday to spend my allowance. With nothing to worry about except biology homework and whether James Fullerton fancied me.
“Look… have this,” I say, scrabbling in my makeup bag for a brand-new Stila lip gloss in grapefruit. “I’m never going to use it.”
“Really?” Kelly gasps. “Are you sure?”
“And do you want this cream blusher?” I hand over the box. “Not that you need blusher…”
“Wow!”
“Now, wait just a moment,” comes Jim’s voice from across the shop. “Kelly, you can’t take this lady’s makeup off her.” He shakes his head at her. “Give them back, love.”
“She offered, Dad!” says Kelly, her translucent skin staining pink. “I didn’t ask for them or anything—”
“Honestly, Jim. Kelly can have them. I’m never going to use them. I only bought them in the first place because you got a free perfume if you spent over eighty quid… ”
Suddenly tears spring up in my eyes again. God, Jess is right. I’m a total flake.
“Are you OK?” says Kelly in alarm. “Have them back—”
“No, I’m fine.” I force a smile. “I just need to… think about something else.”
I dab my eyes with a tissue, get to my feet, and wander over to the gift display. I might as well get some souvenirs while I’m here. I pick up a pipe rack for Dad and a painted wooden tray which Mum will like. I’m just looking at a glass model of Lake Windermere and wondering whether to get it for Janice, when I notice two women standing outside the window. As I watch, they’re joined by a third.
“What are they waiting for?” I say in puzzlement.
“This,” says Jim. He looks at his watch, then puts out a sign reading TODAY’S BREAD HALF PRICE.
Immediately the women come bustling into the shop.
“I’ll take two bloomers, please, Jim,” says one with metal-gray hair and a beige mac. “Have you any reduced croissants?”
“Not today,” says Jim. “All full price.”
“Oh…” She thinks for a moment. “No, I won’t bother.”
“I’ll take three large wholemeal,” chimes in the second woman. She’s wearing a green head scarf and holding a big brown handbag. “Who’s this?” She jerks her thumb at me. “We saw you crying on the green. Are you a tourist?”
“They always get themselves lost,” says the first woman. “Which hotel are you at, love? Does she speak English? Speke Inglese?”
“She looks Danish,” says the third woman knowledgeably. “Who speaks Danish?”
“I’m English,” I say. “And I’m not lost. I was upset because…” I hesitate, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “Because my marriage is in trouble. And I came up here to ask my sister for help, but she wouldn’t give it to me.”
“Your sister?” says the woman in the head scarf suspiciously. “Who’s your sister?”
“She lives in this village.” I take a sip of tea. “She’s called Jessica Bertram.”
The women look like I’ve hit them over the head with a hammer. I look around in confusion, to see Jim’s jaw has dropped by about a foot.
“You’re Jess’s sister?” he says.
“Well… yes. I am. Her half sister.”
“Is that…” I look up, to see Kelly suddenly gawping at my bag with eyes like dinner plates. It must have been hidden behind the hatbox before. “Is that… a real Angel bag?”
I feel a huge inward twinge, which I manage to hide with a weak smile. If she only knew.
“Yes. It’s a real Angel bag.”
“Dad, she’s got an Angel bag!” Kelly exclaims to Jim, who’s unloading bags of sugar from a box. “I showed you about them in Glamour magazine!” Her eyes are shining with excitement. “All the film stars have got them! They’ve sold out at Harrods! Where did you get yours?”
“In… Milan,” I say after a pause.
“Milan!” breathes Kelly. “That’s so cool!” Now her eyes have fallen on the contents of my makeup bag. “Is that Stila lip gloss?”
“Er… yes.”
“Emily Masters has got Stila lip gloss,” she says wistfully. “She thinks she’s all that.”
I look at her lit-up eyes and flushed cheeks, and suddenly I want to be thirteen again. Going to the shops on Saturday to spend my allowance. With nothing to worry about except biology homework and whether James Fullerton fancied me.
“Look… have this,” I say, scrabbling in my makeup bag for a brand-new Stila lip gloss in grapefruit. “I’m never going to use it.”
“Really?” Kelly gasps. “Are you sure?”
“And do you want this cream blusher?” I hand over the box. “Not that you need blusher…”
“Wow!”
“Now, wait just a moment,” comes Jim’s voice from across the shop. “Kelly, you can’t take this lady’s makeup off her.” He shakes his head at her. “Give them back, love.”
“She offered, Dad!” says Kelly, her translucent skin staining pink. “I didn’t ask for them or anything—”
“Honestly, Jim. Kelly can have them. I’m never going to use them. I only bought them in the first place because you got a free perfume if you spent over eighty quid… ”
Suddenly tears spring up in my eyes again. God, Jess is right. I’m a total flake.
“Are you OK?” says Kelly in alarm. “Have them back—”
“No, I’m fine.” I force a smile. “I just need to… think about something else.”
I dab my eyes with a tissue, get to my feet, and wander over to the gift display. I might as well get some souvenirs while I’m here. I pick up a pipe rack for Dad and a painted wooden tray which Mum will like. I’m just looking at a glass model of Lake Windermere and wondering whether to get it for Janice, when I notice two women standing outside the window. As I watch, they’re joined by a third.
“What are they waiting for?” I say in puzzlement.
“This,” says Jim. He looks at his watch, then puts out a sign reading TODAY’S BREAD HALF PRICE.
Immediately the women come bustling into the shop.
“I’ll take two bloomers, please, Jim,” says one with metal-gray hair and a beige mac. “Have you any reduced croissants?”
“Not today,” says Jim. “All full price.”
“Oh…” She thinks for a moment. “No, I won’t bother.”
“I’ll take three large wholemeal,” chimes in the second woman. She’s wearing a green head scarf and holding a big brown handbag. “Who’s this?” She jerks her thumb at me. “We saw you crying on the green. Are you a tourist?”
“They always get themselves lost,” says the first woman. “Which hotel are you at, love? Does she speak English? Speke Inglese?”
“She looks Danish,” says the third woman knowledgeably. “Who speaks Danish?”
“I’m English,” I say. “And I’m not lost. I was upset because…” I hesitate, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “Because my marriage is in trouble. And I came up here to ask my sister for help, but she wouldn’t give it to me.”
“Your sister?” says the woman in the head scarf suspiciously. “Who’s your sister?”
“She lives in this village.” I take a sip of tea. “She’s called Jessica Bertram.”
The women look like I’ve hit them over the head with a hammer. I look around in confusion, to see Jim’s jaw has dropped by about a foot.
“You’re Jess’s sister?” he says.
“Well… yes. I am. Her half sister.”
