Read Online Shopaholic & Sister by Sophie Kinsella - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sophie Kinsella
Ads: Link
location for a Jane Austen film.
This is what Suze’s family is like. Nobody has just one house.
As we drive down the familiar tree-lined avenue I’m jumping with excitement. The stone house looks as huge and grand as ever with its pillared entrance, although some of the ivy has been pruned away from the front. Two stone griffins stand like sentries by the front door, and there are flower garlands around their heads, just like there were on Suze’s wedding day.
“Hurry up!” I say as Luke maneuvers the car into a parking space. He hasn’t even turned off the engine before I’m leaping out of the car and sprinting over the gravel toward the house. Now that I’m here, I just can’t wait to see Suze!
The heavy front door is ajar and I push it open. Inside, the huge flagstone hall is decorated with the most amazing arrangements of lilies. A pair of waiters are striding through with champagne glasses on a tray. And on the ancient chair by the fireplace is a discarded saddle. Nothing’s changed here, then.
The waiters disappear down a corridor, and I’m left alone. Walking over the flagstones, I suddenly feel a bit nervous. What if Suze has gone all weird, like my parents?
And then I spot her through an open door, standing in the drawing room. Her blond hair is up in a chignon and she’s wearing a gorgeous print wrap dress. And in her arms is a tiny baby dressed in a long christening robe. Wow. That must be one of the twins.
Tarquin is standing nearby holding a second baby, which is also in a christening robe. And although he’s wearing the most ancient suit in the world, he’s actually looking pretty good! Not quite as . . . stoaty. It occurs to me that maybe Tarquin will get better looking the older he gets. When he’s fifty he’ll probably be a sex god!
A blond-haired toddler is clutching his leg and, as I watch, Tarquin gently prizes his fingers off.
“Ernie,” he says patiently.
Ernie
? I feel an almighty shock. My godson, Ernest? But last time I saw him he was a tiny little baby.
“Wilfie looks like a girl!” Suze is saying to Tarquin, her brow crumpled in that familiar way. “And Clementine looks like a boy!”
“My sweet, they both look exactly like babies in christening robes,” says Tarquin.
“What if they’re both gay?” Suze is looking anxiously at Tarquin. “What if their hormones got mixed up when they were in the womb?”
“They’re fine!”
I feel ridiculously shy, hovering by the door. I don’t want to interrupt. They look like a family. They
are
a family.
“What’s the time?” Suze tries to consult her watch, but Ernie is now clinging to her arm, trying to jump up. “Ernie, sweetheart, I need to do my lipstick! Leave Mummy’s arm alone. . . . Can you take him for a sec, Tarkie?”
“Let me just put Clemmie down somewhere. . . .” Tarquin starts looking around the room as though a cot might magically spring up out of nowhere.
“I’ll take her if you like,” I say, my voice catching in my throat.
Suze whips round.
“Bex?” Her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “
Bex
?”
“We’re back!” I try to sound cool. “Surprise!”
“Oh my God! Oh my
God
!”
Suze thrusts the baby at Tarquin, who manfully does a kind of juggling act with the two of them. She races toward me and throws her arms around my neck.
“Bex! Mrs. Brandon!”
“Mrs. Cleath-Stuart!” I return, feeling tears prick at my eyes. I knew Suze wouldn’t have changed. I
knew
it.
“I can’t believe you’re back!” Suze’s face is glowing. “Tell me all about your honeymoon! Tell me every single thing you—” She breaks off suddenly, staring at my bag. “Oh my God,” she breathes. “Is that a
real
Angel bag?”
Ha! You see? People who know, know.
“Of course it is.” I swing it nonchalantly on my arm. “Just a little souvenir from Milan. Er . . . I wouldn’t mention it in front of Luke, though,” I add, lowering my voice. “He doesn’t exactly know about
This is what Suze’s family is like. Nobody has just one house.
As we drive down the familiar tree-lined avenue I’m jumping with excitement. The stone house looks as huge and grand as ever with its pillared entrance, although some of the ivy has been pruned away from the front. Two stone griffins stand like sentries by the front door, and there are flower garlands around their heads, just like there were on Suze’s wedding day.
“Hurry up!” I say as Luke maneuvers the car into a parking space. He hasn’t even turned off the engine before I’m leaping out of the car and sprinting over the gravel toward the house. Now that I’m here, I just can’t wait to see Suze!
The heavy front door is ajar and I push it open. Inside, the huge flagstone hall is decorated with the most amazing arrangements of lilies. A pair of waiters are striding through with champagne glasses on a tray. And on the ancient chair by the fireplace is a discarded saddle. Nothing’s changed here, then.
The waiters disappear down a corridor, and I’m left alone. Walking over the flagstones, I suddenly feel a bit nervous. What if Suze has gone all weird, like my parents?
And then I spot her through an open door, standing in the drawing room. Her blond hair is up in a chignon and she’s wearing a gorgeous print wrap dress. And in her arms is a tiny baby dressed in a long christening robe. Wow. That must be one of the twins.
Tarquin is standing nearby holding a second baby, which is also in a christening robe. And although he’s wearing the most ancient suit in the world, he’s actually looking pretty good! Not quite as . . . stoaty. It occurs to me that maybe Tarquin will get better looking the older he gets. When he’s fifty he’ll probably be a sex god!
A blond-haired toddler is clutching his leg and, as I watch, Tarquin gently prizes his fingers off.
“Ernie,” he says patiently.
Ernie
? I feel an almighty shock. My godson, Ernest? But last time I saw him he was a tiny little baby.
“Wilfie looks like a girl!” Suze is saying to Tarquin, her brow crumpled in that familiar way. “And Clementine looks like a boy!”
“My sweet, they both look exactly like babies in christening robes,” says Tarquin.
“What if they’re both gay?” Suze is looking anxiously at Tarquin. “What if their hormones got mixed up when they were in the womb?”
“They’re fine!”
I feel ridiculously shy, hovering by the door. I don’t want to interrupt. They look like a family. They
are
a family.
“What’s the time?” Suze tries to consult her watch, but Ernie is now clinging to her arm, trying to jump up. “Ernie, sweetheart, I need to do my lipstick! Leave Mummy’s arm alone. . . . Can you take him for a sec, Tarkie?”
“Let me just put Clemmie down somewhere. . . .” Tarquin starts looking around the room as though a cot might magically spring up out of nowhere.
“I’ll take her if you like,” I say, my voice catching in my throat.
Suze whips round.
“Bex?” Her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “
Bex
?”
“We’re back!” I try to sound cool. “Surprise!”
“Oh my God! Oh my
God
!”
Suze thrusts the baby at Tarquin, who manfully does a kind of juggling act with the two of them. She races toward me and throws her arms around my neck.
“Bex! Mrs. Brandon!”
“Mrs. Cleath-Stuart!” I return, feeling tears prick at my eyes. I knew Suze wouldn’t have changed. I
knew
it.
“I can’t believe you’re back!” Suze’s face is glowing. “Tell me all about your honeymoon! Tell me every single thing you—” She breaks off suddenly, staring at my bag. “Oh my God,” she breathes. “Is that a
real
Angel bag?”
Ha! You see? People who know, know.
“Of course it is.” I swing it nonchalantly on my arm. “Just a little souvenir from Milan. Er . . . I wouldn’t mention it in front of Luke, though,” I add, lowering my voice. “He doesn’t exactly know about
Similar Books
