Celebrity Shopper (10 page)

‘To him!’ Annie retorted. ‘He’s the one who booked the bulldozer on the wrong day.’

‘Yeah, but you know how it is, that four hundred would have mysteriously found its way on to our final bill one way or another, so I said yes, go ahead, we would deal with the mess. I didn’t expect it to look quite as bad as it does. I mean—’

‘It looks like there’s been a bloody earthquake!’ Annie exclaimed. ‘We aren’t going to be able to eat in the kitchen
for a month. Stop shaking your head,’ she snapped, ‘you’re making Minnie dusty. And what about the floors?’

‘Yeah,’ Ed had to agree, ‘I was a bit shocked about that myself.’

‘Did you say anything?’

Ed looked at her apologetically. ‘It’s awkward. He’s a nice guy, Annie, I wasn’t sure how to tell him he’d made a total mess.’

‘Awkward?’ she repeated. ‘Have you seen my stair carpet? I don’t know if that will ever, ever come clean again.’

Ed hung his head.

‘I’m going to phone him right now,’ Annie added furiously.

‘No,’ Ed advised, ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. I think he switches his work phone off in the evening anyway … you’ll just end up leaving a message that you’ll regret.’

‘Regret? Regret! The only thing I bloody regret is not having taped up every inch of flooring in the whole house before I let the wally in! If you want one single thing done properly, you have to do it yourself!’ she exclaimed.

‘Annie’ – Ed handed Minnie over and took Micky back – ‘Annie, let’s order in some pizza, open a bottle of wine and maybe we’ll all feel better.’

The loud
brrring
of the front-door bell interrupted this thought. Annie headed down the stairs, still holding Minnie in one arm. If this was Al, she couldn’t help thinking to herself, she would give him a piece of her mind.

Through the frosted glass of the front door, she could make out a shape clad in blue builder’s overalls. It was him. She felt her heart thud a little more quickly at the thought of having to say her piece. She would though. Look at that carpet!

She opened the door wide and was immediately stopped in her tracks by the most beautiful-looking man she had seen in ages – possibly ever.

He was in blue dungarees and the short sleeves of his white T-shirt stopped halfway down smooth, bulging brown biceps. He turned a squared jaw and chin with dimple towards her, revealing perfect white teeth as he smiled and said hello.

Brown eyes with heavy black brows were fixed on her face, apparently waiting for an answer. Had he asked a question? Annie, just like Minnie, found she had been reduced to complete silence. In fact, she hadn’t even taken in what he’d said, the accent had been so chunky and unexpected.

‘I Janucek, vorrrrrk with Al, I leave my tools. Is possible to collect them from yourrrrr house?’ Janucek repeated.

All thoughts of a mess lecture, a demonstration of what plaster dust and mud did to polished floors and woollen carpets, was completely forgotten as Annie heard strains from the Diet Coke ad break out in her head.

‘Yeah … course,’ she mumbled, ‘come in.’

Harry dressed (down) for dinner:

Pink shirt (Turnbull & Asser)
Pink and grey Argyle V-neck (Pringle)
Grey flannel trousers (Gieves & Hawkes)
Monogrammed velvet slippers (Shipton & Heneage)
Total est. cost: £620

‘To the day I met you …’

Whenever Svetlana arrived home, she called from the car. She didn’t do keys. Keys were for women who didn’t have staff.

Svetlana called before arriving at her own glossy black front door so, within moments, her maid Maria was holding it open, welcoming her in and taking her coat and bags.

‘Has everyone else started?’ Svetlana asked, knowing that the rest of her family would already be in the dining room.

‘No, they just sit down,’ Maria assured her, ‘they wait for you.’

Svetlana stepped into the nearest bathroom to freshen up. There, she washed her hands, combed through her luscious blond mane, applied a fresh coat of lipstick to newly plumped lips and a fresh spritz of perfume. Only then did she emerge, ready to face her family.

As she opened the door of the dining room, she paused to appreciate this lovely little scene. It wasn’t often that all of them could eat together and she wanted to enjoy every moment of the meal.

Her sons, Petrov and Michael, usually ate early in the kitchen with Maria, but here they were, looking all neat, combed and washed, their serious little faces turned in her direction.

Harry, Svetlana’s latest husband, had made it back from work earlier than usual. He’d showered, changed and was seated at the head of the table.

Even Elena looked as if she’d lightened up for the evening. She was sitting beside Petrov in a thoroughly unbusinesslike pink flowered top with a broad smile on her face.

‘Hooray!’ Harry said, standing up as soon as he caught sight of her. ‘We’re all just waiting for you, darling. Congratulations!’ and he pointed to the bottle of champagne which he’d had Maria put on ice as soon as he’d heard Svetlana’s news.

‘Fantastic!’ Elena grinned. ‘You have been fantastic, Mama, I knew you could do it.’

Svetlana had rung them at home as soon as she’d finished her late-afternoon business meeting.

She’d raised every last penny required. The full £75,000 was going to be in the Perfect Dress bank account by the end of the week. The champagne cork was about to pop because now, really and truly, Svetlana and Elena were in business.

Svetlana swooped down on every member of her family, kissing and squeezing them tightly.

‘W-onderful!’ she said, making a huge effort to pronounce the ‘w’ properly. ‘It is just w-onderful.’

‘Does this mean you’re going to be as rich as Daddy?’ Michael wondered.

This question made all the adults round the table laugh. Because Daddy Igor, even post-stock-market crash, was still a mega-millionaire.

‘Of course, my darling,’ Svetlana answered without hesitation, ‘and I make you very proud, no?’

Harry reached over to lift the champagne bottle from its bucket of ice. Carefully, he eased off the cork, then filled the three crystal flutes on the table.

Holding up his glass, he looked at Svetlana and made his familiar toast: ‘To the day I met you, my beautiful girl.’

Maria entered carrying a silver tray laden with the first course just as Svetlana clinked her glass first with Harry, then Elena. She held the champagne under her nostrils for a moment, breathing in the fresh, prickly scent.
Champagne, drink of champions. No?

‘So,’ Elena began, needing to get back to business just as soon as the duck terrine had been served, ‘we need to speak to Patrizio and begin to put together the show, huh? He thinks if we move quickly, we can still put something on in the next fortnight and catch the very end of the fashion show season.’

‘Ya,’ Svetlana agreed. ‘I call him already, he come here tomorrow to meet with us.’

‘So who is this chap?’ Harry asked with interest. His new wife was still a source of constant fascination to him.

‘He’s very important event organizer,’ Svetlana began, picking up her heavy silver-plated knife and moving in on
the sliver of food on her plate. ‘He put on many, many important fashion shows.’

‘He will find us a venue, models and do all the organization for us,’ Elena went on. ‘We just have to turn up in Paris with the clothes.’

‘Yes, he says he take care of everything. He want to share our vision,’ Svetlana added.

‘Is he French?’ Harry wondered.

‘No, I think he’s Italian. Do you know, Elena?’

‘I’ve not spoken to him, you have done all the talking with him,’ came Elena’s reply.

‘So where did you hear of him?’ Harry asked. ‘How did you get in touch with him?’

‘You told me, no?’ Svetlana began, looking in Elena’s direction.

‘No,’ Elena assured her.

‘Not you?’ Svetlana lifted her fork to her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Once she’d swallowed she said: ‘Not you … I not remember who tell me about him then. But no matter.’ She gave a shrug. ‘He is w-onderful. It is all going to be fantastic success.’

Fern at home:

Beige knit skirt (John Lewis)
Cream blouse (Mulberry via Annie)
Lace-up sensible shoes (Ecco)
Pearl necklace (60th birthday gift to self)
Cloud of perfume (Chanel No 19)
Pink lipstick (Estée Lauder)
Total est. cost: £390

‘We’re going to have to talk …’

‘Who was that?’ Ed called down the stairs.

‘Al’s guy. Forgotten his tools,’ Annie called back, trying to recover from the Janucek visitation. ‘Order the pizzas and I’ll take Micky and Minnie down to Mum’s. Wonder if her rooms are covered in plaster dust too.’

Ed, appearing at the top of the stairs, looked mildly surprised, as if this was the first time he’d thought about Annie’s mother all day long.

‘Is she OK?’ Annie asked, recognizing the look. ‘Have you not had the chance to see her today?’

‘Not since breakfast,’ Ed admitted.

‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ Annie said to reassure them both. ‘C’mon, give me Micky,’ she said. Then, with a baby on each arm, she headed out of the front door and down to the basement steps to her mother’s flat.

Ringing the bell, Annie felt just a prickle of nerves. Surely nothing would have happened to Fern while no one was paying attention? The builder had been around in the garden – the bulldozer tracks were obvious enough. If Fern had been in any sort of bother, she’d just have gone to Ed or even the builders for help, wouldn’t she?

But what if she’d gone out? Ages ago? And no one had noticed? And what if she’d got lost?

Annie listened hard at the door and for a moment felt panicky. She didn’t think she could hear anything.

The sound of footsteps came from the other side of the door.

‘Hi, Mum!’ Annie said with relief, seeing Fern’s silhouette in the small window of the door. ‘How are you doing?’ she asked as soon as the door was open.

‘Oh, fine,’ Fern answered, but there was something of an agitated look on her face. ‘Come in, bring my lovely, lovely babies and come in. I’m just trying to find …’ She turned round, headed back into the flat and her words tailed off.

Annie walked through the tiny hallway and the compact kitchen, following her mum into the small, low-ceilinged sitting room where she sat down on the sofa with the babies. As soon as she took a seat, the twins no longer wanted to be still and immediately tried to crawl off in opposite directions.

This room looked nice now. Once upon a time, these few rooms – the kitchen, the small bedroom with doors out to the garden and this sitting room – had been Ed’s flat
underneath his late mother’s house. Back then they had been dingy, mouldy, faded and damp, crammed full of Ed’s mess and Ed’s belongings. Now that Annie had taken charge of him and his inherited house, it was very different. The rooms were still small but they were neat and cosy. The fungal damp rotting through the walls had all gone. In place was whitewash, new wooden floors, a wood-burning stove and a pale green bedroom with white cupboards and long silky curtains.

‘What are you looking for?’ Annie asked kindly. ‘You always seem to be looking for something. It’s probably at home, Mum, in your house. You’ve not brought much with you, remember? We could go there at the weekend, find the things you want and bring them back here.’

With a sigh of deep tiredness, Fern sat down in the armchair opposite Annie: ‘Give me a baby,’ she instructed, watching Annie struggle to keep hold of the two. ‘That way we’ll each have only one to entertain.’

As Annie handed Minnie over, Fern said: ‘It’s my bracelet. You know the one, the beautiful woven gold bracelet. I know I’d have brought it with me. I just know it. There’s no way I would have left it at home. It’s very special. My mother gave it to me. I really have looked everywhere. In every single place I can think of,’ she added with anxious exasperation.

‘And, Annie,’ she went on, ‘we are going to have to talk about me going home. I know you don’t want to talk about it, I know you keep avoiding me on this, but we’ll have to talk about it.’

Annie looked at her mother with a mixture of great love and fear.

As Fern sat in the chair, holding her granddaughter, she looked so normal, nicely dressed and capable. Everything she said made perfect sense and she was expressing herself
with total clarity. But here was the problem: this bracelet had gone missing almost thirty years ago.

Annie knew the story. Her father Mick had taken it, along with various other valuables he’d stolen from the family home. Apparently, he’d planned to pawn them, use the money for some amazing new venture and buy everything back when it all worked out. But that had been the last time Fern or Annie and her sisters had seen him. When she’d discovered the theft, Fern, fed up with all his lying, cheating and scheming, had told him not to come back.

Annie wasn’t going to mention one word about Dinah’s conversation with the journalist to her mother. She wasn’t even going to think about it. If she blanked all thoughts of her dad out of her mind, they would go away and he would stay away. That’s how it had always worked in the past.