Shopaholic & Baby
Page 22
Suze is the best. I knew she’d have some way to find out. She dangles the ring above my stomach and we both stare at it, transfixed.
“It’s not moving,” I say in a whisper.
“It will in a minute,” Suze murmurs back.
This is so spooky. I feel like we’re at a séance and all of a sudden the ring will spell out the name of a dead person while a window bangs shut and a vase crashes to the floor.
“It’s going!” hisses Suze as the ring begins to sway on its ribbon. “Look!”
“Oh my God!” My voice is a muffled squeak. “What does it say?”
“It’s going round in circles! It’s a girl!”
I gasp. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! You’re having a daughter! Congratulations!” Suze flings her arms round me.
It’s a girl. I feel quite shaky. I’m having a daughter! I knew it. I’ve been having girl vibes all along.
“Becky?” The door opens and Mum is standing there, resplendent in purple sequins and matching lurid lipstick. “People will be here soon.” Her eyes shoot from Suze to me. “Is everything all right, love?”
“Mum, I’m having a girl!” I blurt it out before I can stop myself. “Suze did the ring test! It went in a circle!”
“A girl!” Mum’s whole face lights up. “I thought it looked like a girl! Oh, Becky, love!”
“Isn’t it great?” says Suze. “You’re going to have a granddaughter!”
“I can get out your old doll’s house, Becky!” Mum is suffused with delight. “And I’ll have the spare room painted pink….” She comes close and examines my bump. “Yes, look at the way you’re carrying it, love. It’s definitely a girl.”
“And watch the ring!” says Suze. She lifts the ribbon above my stomach again and steadies it. There’s utter stillness — then the ring starts moving back and forth. For a moment no one speaks.
“I thought you said a circle,” says Mum at last, puzzled.
“I did! Suze, what’s happening? Why’s it going back and forth?”
“I dunno!” She peers at the ring, her brow wrinkled. “Maybe it’s a boy after all.”
We’re all staring at my stomach as though we’re expecting it to start talking to us.
“You are carrying high,” says Mum eventually. “It could be a boy.”
A minute ago she said it looked like a girl. Oh, for God’s sake. The thing about old wives’ tales is, they’re actually total crap.
“Let’s go down anyway, loves,” Mum says, as music suddenly blasts from downstairs. “Keith from the Fox and Grapes has arrived. He’s making all sorts of fancy cocktails.”
“Excellent!” says Suze, reaching for her sponge bag. “We’ll be down in a sec.”
Mum leaves the room, and Suze starts applying makeup at speed while I watch in astonishment.
“Bloody hell, Suze! Are you training for the makeup Olympics?”
“You wait,” says Suze, brushing sparkly shadow onto her eyelids. “You’ll be able to do your makeup in three seconds flat too.” She unscrews her lipstick and slashes it on. “Done!” She grabs her elegant green satin dress and steps into it, then takes a jeweled hair clasp from her bag and twists her blond hair into a knot.
“That’s nice!” I say, admiring the clasp.
“Thanks.” She hesitates. “Lulu gave it to me.”
“Oh, right.” Now that I look at it again, it isn’t that nice. “So…how is Lulu?” I force myself to say politely.
“She’s fine!” Suze’s face is lowered as she wrenches her hair into place. “She’s written a book, actually.”
“A book?” Lulu never struck me as the book type.
“On cooking for your children.”
“Really?” I say in surprise. “Well, maybe I should read that. Is it good?”
“I haven’t read it yet,” says Suze after a pause. “But obviously she’s the expert, with four of them….”
There’s a kind of tension in her voice that I can’t place. But then Suze looks up — and her hair is such a terrible mess, we both burst out laughing.
“Let me do it.” I grab the clasp, take it out of the knotted hair, brush it all out, and twist it up again, pulling little tendrils out at the front.
“Fab.” Suze gives me a hug. “Thanks, Bex. And now I’m dying for a cosmo. Come on!”
She practically gallops out of the room, and I follow her down the stairs with slightly less enthusiasm. I guess mine will be a Virgin Fruity Bland Something.
“It’s not moving,” I say in a whisper.
“It will in a minute,” Suze murmurs back.
This is so spooky. I feel like we’re at a séance and all of a sudden the ring will spell out the name of a dead person while a window bangs shut and a vase crashes to the floor.
“It’s going!” hisses Suze as the ring begins to sway on its ribbon. “Look!”
“Oh my God!” My voice is a muffled squeak. “What does it say?”
“It’s going round in circles! It’s a girl!”
I gasp. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! You’re having a daughter! Congratulations!” Suze flings her arms round me.
It’s a girl. I feel quite shaky. I’m having a daughter! I knew it. I’ve been having girl vibes all along.
“Becky?” The door opens and Mum is standing there, resplendent in purple sequins and matching lurid lipstick. “People will be here soon.” Her eyes shoot from Suze to me. “Is everything all right, love?”
“Mum, I’m having a girl!” I blurt it out before I can stop myself. “Suze did the ring test! It went in a circle!”
“A girl!” Mum’s whole face lights up. “I thought it looked like a girl! Oh, Becky, love!”
“Isn’t it great?” says Suze. “You’re going to have a granddaughter!”
“I can get out your old doll’s house, Becky!” Mum is suffused with delight. “And I’ll have the spare room painted pink….” She comes close and examines my bump. “Yes, look at the way you’re carrying it, love. It’s definitely a girl.”
“And watch the ring!” says Suze. She lifts the ribbon above my stomach again and steadies it. There’s utter stillness — then the ring starts moving back and forth. For a moment no one speaks.
“I thought you said a circle,” says Mum at last, puzzled.
“I did! Suze, what’s happening? Why’s it going back and forth?”
“I dunno!” She peers at the ring, her brow wrinkled. “Maybe it’s a boy after all.”
We’re all staring at my stomach as though we’re expecting it to start talking to us.
“You are carrying high,” says Mum eventually. “It could be a boy.”
A minute ago she said it looked like a girl. Oh, for God’s sake. The thing about old wives’ tales is, they’re actually total crap.
“Let’s go down anyway, loves,” Mum says, as music suddenly blasts from downstairs. “Keith from the Fox and Grapes has arrived. He’s making all sorts of fancy cocktails.”
“Excellent!” says Suze, reaching for her sponge bag. “We’ll be down in a sec.”
Mum leaves the room, and Suze starts applying makeup at speed while I watch in astonishment.
“Bloody hell, Suze! Are you training for the makeup Olympics?”
“You wait,” says Suze, brushing sparkly shadow onto her eyelids. “You’ll be able to do your makeup in three seconds flat too.” She unscrews her lipstick and slashes it on. “Done!” She grabs her elegant green satin dress and steps into it, then takes a jeweled hair clasp from her bag and twists her blond hair into a knot.
“That’s nice!” I say, admiring the clasp.
“Thanks.” She hesitates. “Lulu gave it to me.”
“Oh, right.” Now that I look at it again, it isn’t that nice. “So…how is Lulu?” I force myself to say politely.
“She’s fine!” Suze’s face is lowered as she wrenches her hair into place. “She’s written a book, actually.”
“A book?” Lulu never struck me as the book type.
“On cooking for your children.”
“Really?” I say in surprise. “Well, maybe I should read that. Is it good?”
“I haven’t read it yet,” says Suze after a pause. “But obviously she’s the expert, with four of them….”
There’s a kind of tension in her voice that I can’t place. But then Suze looks up — and her hair is such a terrible mess, we both burst out laughing.
“Let me do it.” I grab the clasp, take it out of the knotted hair, brush it all out, and twist it up again, pulling little tendrils out at the front.
“Fab.” Suze gives me a hug. “Thanks, Bex. And now I’m dying for a cosmo. Come on!”
She practically gallops out of the room, and I follow her down the stairs with slightly less enthusiasm. I guess mine will be a Virgin Fruity Bland Something.
