Mini Shopaholic
*
OK. I’m writing to the Archbishop of Canterbury. In my opinion, christenings are far, far too short.
We’re all sitting in the front few rows of the church. We’ve had about two prayers and a few little bits to say about renouncing evil. We’ve all sung a hymn and Minnie has spent the time shredding two hymn books. (It was the only way to keep her quiet. I’ll give the church some money.) And now suddenly Reverend Parker has asked us all to gather around the font and I’m panicking.
We can’t be up to the splashy water bit yet. I’m not letting Luke miss the big moment.
There’s been no sign of him. He isn’t replying to any of my texts. I’m hoping against hope that he’s switched off his phone because it would interfere with the helicopter controls. My neck is craned, trying to listen for a judder outside.
‘Minnie?’ Reverend Parker smiles at her. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Wait!’ I say desperately as people start getting to their feet. ‘Before the actual christening … er … Minnie’s godmother Susan Cleath-Stuart wishes to recite a poem for the occasion. Don’t you, Suze?’
Suze instantly turns in her seat and whispers ‘What?’
‘Please, Suze!’ I hiss back. ‘I need to buy some time, or Luke’ll miss it!’
‘I don’t know any poems!’ she mutters as she gets up.
‘Just read something out of the hymn book! Something long!’
Rolling her eyes, Suze picks up a hymn book and heads to the front, then smiles around the audience.
‘I would like to recite …’ She opens the book and riffles through. ‘“We Three Kings”.’ She clears her throat. ‘We three kings of Orient are. Bearing gifts we traverse afar …’
Suze is such a star. She reads it at a snail’s pace and does all the choruses twice through.
‘Very nice.’ Reverend Parker stifles a yawn. ‘And now, if you could gather round the font …’
‘Wait!’ I swivel on my seat. ‘Um, Minnie’s godfather Danny Kovitz will now …’ I gaze imploringly at him. ‘He will also … say a poem?’ Please, I mouth silently, and Danny winks back.
‘In honour of my god-daughter’s christening I will now perform “The Real Slim Shady” by Eminem,’ he says confidently.
Yikes. I hope Reverend Parker doesn’t listen too closely.
Danny isn’t the best rapper in the world, but by the time he’s finished, everyone’s clapping and whooping, even all Mum’s bridge friends. So then Danny does an encore of ‘Stan’ with Suze doing the Dido bits. Then Tom and Jess pitch in with a South American prayer for children, which is actually really moving. And then Dad takes to the floor and sings ‘Que Sera Sera’ with everyone joining in with the chorus and Martin conducting them with one of Janice’s chopsticks.
Reverend Parker is starting to look seriously pissed off by now.
‘Thank you, everyone, for your interesting contributions,’ he says tightly. ‘And now, if you could gather round the font …’
‘Wait!’ I interrupt him. ‘As Minnie’s mother, I would just like to make a short speech.’
‘Rebecca!’ snaps Reverend Parker. ‘We really do have to proceed.’
‘Just a quick one!’
I hurry to the front of the church, almost tripping up in my haste. I’ll just keep talking till Luke arrives. It’s the only way.
‘Welcome, friends and family.’ I gaze around, avoiding Reverend Parker’s stony eye. ‘What a special day this is. A special, special day. Minnie is being christened.’
I pause as though to let this thought sink in and quickly check my phone. Nothing.
‘But what do we mean by that?’ I lift a finger, just like Reverend Parker does in his sermons. ‘Or are we all just here for the ride?’
There’s an interested ripple in the audience and a couple of people nudge each other and whisper. I’m quite flattered, actually. I hadn’t thought my speech would cause such a stir.
‘Because it’s easy to go through life without ever looking around at the flowers.’ I give a significant nod, and there are more whispers and nudges.
This reaction I’m getting is amazing! Maybe I could get into preaching! I’ve obviously got a natural gift for it and I do have quite a lot of profound ideas.
‘It makes you think, doesn’t it?’ I continue. ‘But what do we mean by think?’
Everyone’s whispering now. People are passing iPhones along the pews and pointing at something. What’s going on?
‘I mean, why are we all here?’ My voice is drowned out by the growing hubbub.
‘What’s happening!’ I exclaim. ‘What are you all looking at?’ Even Mum and Dad are fixated by something on Mum’s BlackBerry.
‘Becky, you’d better look at this,’ says Dad in a strange voice. He gets up and passes me the BlackBerry, and I find myself looking at a TV newsreader on the BBC website.
‘… latest on our breaking news that the Bank of London has agreed emergency funding from the Bank of England. This comes after days of secret talks, in which bosses battled to save the situation …’
The newsreader continues talking, but I don’t hear what he’s saying. I’m gripped by the picture. It’s of several men in suits leaving the Bank of England, looking grim. One of them is Luke. Luke was at the Bank of England?
Oh God. Is he at the Bank of England now?
The picture on the screen has changed to a group of commentators sitting round a table, looking grave, with that girl TV presenter in the glasses who always interrupts people.
‘So, essentially, the Bank of London is bust, is that right?’ she says in that forceful way she has.
‘“Bust” is a very strong word …’ one of the commentators begins – but I can’t hear what else he says because of the havoc breaking out in the church.
‘It’s bust!’
‘The Bank of London’s gone bust!’
‘But that’s where all our money is!’ Mum looks a bit hysterical. ‘Graham, do something! Get it out! Get the money!’
‘Our holiday fund!’ Janice moans.
‘My pension!’ An elderly man is struggling to his feet.
‘I’m sure we shouldn’t overreact,’ Jess is saying above the hubbub. ‘I’m sure no one will lose anything, banks are guaranteed …’ But no one’s listening to her.
‘My portfolio!’ Reverend Parker rips off his robes and heads for the door of the church.
‘You can’t just leave!’ I call after him incredulously. ‘You haven’t christened Minnie yet!’ But he totally ignores me – and to my amazement, Mum is hotfooting it after him.
‘Mum! Come back!’
I grab Minnie’s hand before she legs it too. Everyone’s leaving. Within moments the church is empty, except for me and Minnie, Suze, Tarkie, Jess, Tom and Danny. We all glance at each other – then in silent accord, hurry to the back of the church. We burst out of the big wooden door – and then all just stand there in the porch in shock.
‘Sweet Jesus,’ breathes Danny.
The high street is full of people. There must be two hundred, three hundred, maybe. All streaming the same way along the pavement to the tiny branch of Bank of London, outside which a queue has already formed. I can see Mum anxiously jostling for a place, and Reverend Parker blatantly queue-barging in front of an old lady, while a young, panic-stricken guy in bank-teller’s uniform tries to keep order.
As I’m gaping at the scene, something attracts my attention. Just along from the Bank of London, directly opposite the church, I glimpse a figure in the throng. Dark helmet-like hair, pale skin, Jackie O-type sunglasses, houndstooth suit …
I peer harder in disbelief. Is that …
That can’t be …
Elinor?
But as I’m trying to focus, she – or whoever it was – disappears into the crowd. I rub my eyes and look again, but all I can see now is a policeman who has appeared out of nowhere and is telling people to get off the road.
Weird. I must have imagined it.
&nbs
p; ‘Look at the cop,’ says Danny in delight. ‘He’s about to lose it. He’s going to start tasering people in a minute.’
‘Oh my God!’ Suze suddenly points upwards with a gasp.
This is unreal. Now there are people climbing on the roof of the bank. I exchange flabbergasted looks with Suze. It’s like aliens have invaded, or war has broken out, or something. I’ve never seen anything like it, my whole entire life.
FIVE
Well, at least it all makes sense now. At least I can forgive Luke. This is about the first time he’s had a so-called ‘major crisis’ at work and it really is a proper, genuine crisis. No one can talk about anything else. Every news channel is covering it.
I’ve spoken to Luke on the phone and he’s going to make it home when he can. But there was no way he could have left any earlier. He was at the Bank of England seeing all sorts of top people. And now he’s trying to ‘manage the situation’ and ‘limit the damage’. Every single branch of the Bank of London has been besieged. Apparently the Prime Minister himself is going to make a statement and ask everyone to calm down. (Which if you ask me is a big mistake. Mum’s already convinced the whole thing is a government conspiracy.)
‘Tea?’ Dad comes into the snug, where Danny, Suze, Tarquin, Jess, Tom and I are all sitting, still in a bit of a numb daze. The TV is on Sky News and they keep playing the same clip, the one with a stern-faced Luke with all his equally stern-faced banker clients.
‘So.’ Dad puts the tray down. ‘What a to-do! Are you going to rearrange the christening?’
‘We’ll have to, I suppose.’ I nod, and look around the room. ‘When’s everyone free?’
‘The rest of January’s not great.’ Danny takes out his BlackBerry and squints at it. ‘Although January next year is totally clear,’ he adds brightly.
‘We’ve got so many shooting parties …’ Suze fishes for her tiny Smythson diary.
‘And remember our trip to the Lake District,’ Dad chimes in.
God, everyone’s so busy. In the end I get everyone to write down when they’re available in the next few months. Jess draws a grid and crosses off all the days and works it all out.
‘There are three possibles,’ she says at last. ‘The eighteenth of February, the eleventh of March or the seventh of April, which is a Friday.’
‘The seventh of April?’ I look up. ‘That’s Luke’s birthday.’
‘I never knew that,’ says Suze curiously. ‘I’ve never even known Luke to have a birthday.’
‘He’s not really into birthdays,’ I explain. ‘Every time I organize any celebration for him, he cancels it because of some work thing.’
It’s one of the things about Luke I least understand. He doesn’t get over-excited about his presents; he doesn’t drop little hints about what kind of treat he’d like; he doesn’t do a countdown on the wall calendar. One year he’d actually forgotten it was his birthday when I clattered in with a breakfast tray. How can you forget your own birthday?
I glance at the TV screen again. There he is, stepping out of the Bank of England again, his forehead furrowed even more deeply than usual. I feel a rush of fondness for him. He’s had such a shitty year, he deserves a treat. I should throw him a party. Even if he doesn’t want it. Even if he’ll try and cancel it.
And all at once the idea hits me.
‘Hey! What about if I throw Luke a surprise party?’ I look around in excitement. ‘He’ll think we’re just having Minnie’s christening, reorganized … but actually, it’s his birthday party too!’
I have a sudden vision of Luke walking into a darkened room and a whole crowd yelling ‘Happy birthday!’ And Luke’s jaw dropping, and him being absolutely speechless with surprise …
Oh God. I have to do this. I have to.
‘Good one, Bex!’ Suze’s eyes light up.
‘Awesome idea.’ Danny looks up from his texting. ‘What theme?’
‘I dunno. But something really cool. Something Luke would like.’
I’ve never thrown a surprise party before, but it can’t be that hard, can it? I mean, it’s just like a normal party except you keep it secret. Easy.
‘Becky, are you sure it’s a good time to be throwing a party?’ says Jess with a frown. ‘I mean, what if what they say is true?’ She gestures at the TV, which is still on the Bank of London story. ‘What if we’re at the beginning of a financial catastrophe?’
Trust Jess. Trust her to bring ‘financial catastrophe’ into a nice talk about a party.
‘Well, then everyone will need cheering up, won’t they?’ I say defiantly. ‘All the better.’
Jess doesn’t flicker. ‘All I’m saying is, you have to be prudent, especially at a time like this. Do you have the money to hold a party?’
Honestly. What is this, ‘Who Wants To Be A Nosy Elder Sister?’
‘Maybe I do.’ I shrug carelessly. ‘Maybe I’ve been saving up a special fund for just such an event.’
There’s silence in the room, apart from a little snort from Danny. Tom is smirking, and I glower back at him. Have I ever smirked at any of his projects? Did I smirk when he built his ridiculous two-storey summerhouse in Janice’s garden? (Well, actually, maybe I did. But that’s not the point. Summerhouses and parties are completely different.)
Worst of all, even Suze is looking a bit pained, as if she doesn’t want to laugh, but won’t be able to help it. She sees me looking at her and flushes guiltily.
‘The thing is, it doesn’t have to be an expensive party, does it?’ she says hurriedly. ‘You could throw a restrained party, Bex. A thrifty party!’
‘That’s true.’ Jess nods. ‘Tom can make home-made peach wine. It’s not bad at all. And I’m happy to cook.’
Home-made –peach wine?
‘And you could have music off an iPod …’ suggests Tom.
‘I’m in charge of the iPod,’ chips in Danny.
‘We could make paper chains …’
I’m staring at them all in horror. One tiny little bank goes bust and suddenly we’re having to act like it’s the war and make Spam fritters and stain our legs because we can’t afford stockings?
‘I don’t want to throw Luke some crappy party with homemade peach wine and an iPod!’ I exclaim. ‘I want a fabulous party! I want a marquee and a band, and caterers, and amazing lights everywhere … and entertainment! Jugglers and fire-eaters and stuff.’
‘But you can throw a nice party without fire-eaters—’ begins Suze.
‘I don’t want something “nice”,’ I say disparagingly. ‘If I throw Luke a surprise party, I want it to blow him away. I want to knock his socks off. I want him to walk in and be utterly speechless for … a whole minute. At least.’
All my friends are exchanging looks.
‘What?’ I’m looking from face to face. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Come on, Becky. It would cost a fortune,’ says Jess bluntly. ‘Where would you get the money?’
‘I … don’t know,’ I say defiantly. ‘Work extra hard, maybe.’
‘You’ll never keep it secret from Luke,’ chips in Tom. ‘Not in a million years.’
I feel a surge of indignation at him; in fact, at all of them, even Suze. Why do they have to pour cold water on everything?
‘Yes I will!’ I retort furiously. ‘You watch. I’ll organize a fabulous party and I’ll totally keep it a secret from Luke—’
‘Keep what a secret from Luke?’ His deep voice resounds from the hall and I nearly jump a mile. Bloody hell, how did that happen? I’ve only been planning this party for two minutes and already I’ve nearly given it away. I just have time to shoot an anguished look at Suze before Luke appears through the door. He’s holding Minnie and looks surprisingly cheerful.
‘How come you’re back?’ I ask, as he kisses me. ‘Is it all over?’
‘Just grabbing some clean clothes, I’m afraid,’ he says wryly. ‘This isn’t going to be over any time soon.’
‘Um, Luke, that comment you just heard m
e say about keeping something secret from Luke?’ I clear my throat. ‘You’re probably wondering what I meant.’
‘It did cross my mind.’ Luke raises his eyebrows quizzically.
‘Well, it’s just that … um … I didn’t want to tell you how crazy it was earlier. At the Bank of London. It was mayhem. I thought it might stress you out. So I was just telling everyone to keep quiet about it. Wasn’t I?’
I glare around the table and Suze dutifully says, ‘Absolutely!’
‘Don’t worry,’ Luke says wryly. ‘I’ve already seen the worst.’ He reaches up and ruffles Minnie’s hair. ‘I gather she missed out on her big moment?’
‘The vicar just ran off to the bank with everyone else! But it’s OK,’ I add carefully. ‘Because we’re planning to reschedule the christening. For a future date.’
I won’t mention the exact date at this point.
‘Good.’ Luke nods without great interest. ‘Is there any food left?’
‘Loads.’ I nod. I’m about to get up and find him some blinis when Mum comes into the snug, slightly flushed from all the sake she’s been drinking.
‘Listen, loves,’ she says to me and Luke. ‘Reverend Parker’s here. He wants to see you. Shall I send him in here?’
‘Oh, right,’ I say in surprise. ‘Of course!’
I’ve never seen Reverend Parker look sheepish before. As he comes into the snug, his dazzling smile is missing and he can’t quite look either of us in the eyes.
‘Rebecca and Luke, I do apologize,’ he says. ‘Never before have I abandoned a service mid-flow. I can’t think what came over me.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I say magnanimously. ‘We’ve got over it.’
‘I assume you would still like your daughter baptized?’
‘Of course we would!’ I say eagerly. ‘In fact, we were just talking about it. We’ve got it all planned.’
‘I’m so glad.’ He looks around the room. ‘Well, you’re all present and correct, so …’ Before I know what’s going on, he produces a little bottle, unscrews it, and sprinkles some kind of water on Minnie’s forehead. ‘Minnie, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.’