Shopaholic Takes Manhattan (Shopaholic #2)

Shopaholic Takes Manhattan (Shopaholic #2) Page 96

“It’s not your fault!” I reach for a tissue and blow my nose. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s The Daily World’s.”

“I hate them!” says Suze savagely. “They should be strung up and flogged. That’s what Tarkie said.”

“Oh right,” I say after a pause. “So… he… he saw it, did he?”

“To be honest, Bex — I think most people saw it,” says Suze reluctantly.

I feel a painful lurch as I think about Janice and Martin reading it. About Tom and Lucy reading it. All my old school friends and teachers reading it. All the people I’ve ever known, reading my most humiliating secrets.

“Look, come on,” says Suze. “Leave all your stuff. Let’s have a nice cup of tea.”

“OK,” I say after a pause. “That would be really nice.” I follow her into the kitchen and sit down, leaning against the warm radiator for comfort.

“So — how are things going with Luke now?” says Suze cautiously as she puts on the kettle.

“Not great.” I fold my arms tightly round myself. “In fact… it’s not going at all.”

“Really?” Suze gazes at me in dismay. “God, Bex, what happened?”

“Well, we had this big row…”

“About the article?”

“Kind of.” I reach for a tissue and blow my nose. “He said it messed up his deal, and I was obsessed by shopping. And I said he was obsessed with work… and I… I said his mother was a… a complete cow…”

“You called his mother a cow?” Suze looks so taken aback, I give a shaky giggle.

“Well, she is! She’s awful. And she doesn’t even love Luke. But he can’t see it… all he wants is to land the biggest deal in the world and impress her. He can’t think about anything else but that.”

“So what happened then?” says Suze, handing me a mug of tea.

I bite my lip, remembering that last painful conversation we had, while I was waiting for my taxi to take me to the airport. The polite stilted voices, the way we didn’t look each other in the eye.

“Before I left, I said I didn’t think he had time for a proper relationship at the moment.”

“Really?” Suze’s eyes widen. “You called it off?”

“I didn’t mean to.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “I wanted him to say he did have time. But he didn’t say anything. It was… awful.”

“Oh, Bex.” Suze stares at me over her mug. “Oh, Bex.”

“Still, never mind,” I say, trying to sound upbeat. “It’s probably all for the best.” I take a sip of tea and close my eyes. “Oh God, that’s good. That’s so good.” For a while I’m silent, letting the steam warm my face, feeling myself relax. I take a few more sips, then open my eyes. “They just cannot make tea in America. I went to one place, and they gave me this… cup full of hot water, and a tea bag in a packet. And the cup was see-through.”

“Ooh.” Suze pulls a face. “Yuck.” She reaches for the tin of biscuits and takes out a couple of Hobnobs. “Who needs America, anyway?” she says robustly. “I mean, everyone knows American TV is rubbish. You’re better off here.”

“Maybe I am.” I stare into my mug for a while, then take a deep breath and look up. “You know, I thought a lot on the plane. I decided I’m going to make this a real turning point in my life. I’m going to concentrate on my career, and finish my book, and be really focused — and just…”

“Show them,” finishes Suze.

“Exactly. Just show them.”

It’s amazing what a bit of home comfort does for the spirit. Half an hour and three cups of tea later, I’m feeling a million times better. I’m even quite enjoying telling Suze about New York, and all the things I did. When I tell her about going to the spa, and where exactly they wanted to put a crystal tattoo, she starts laughing so hard she almost chokes.

“Hey,” I say, a sudden thought striking me. “Have you finished the KitKats?”

“No, I haven’t,” says Suze, wiping her eyes. “They seem to go more slowly when you’re not around. So, what did Luke’s mum say? Did she want to see the results?” And she starts gurgling with laughter again.

“Hang on, I’ll just get a couple,” I say, and start to head toward Suze’s room, where they’re kept.

“Actually—” says Suze, and her laughter abruptly stops. “No, don’t go in there.”