Read Online Shopaholic Takes Manhattan by Sophie Kinsella - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sophie Kinsella
Ads: Link
me, so I promised not to do any shopping this weekend. She made me cross my heart and swear on—well, on my clementine sandals, actually. And I’m going to make a real effort to keep to it.
I mean, I should be able to last forty-eight hours.
“I’m going to do all lovely rural things,” I say, snapping my blusher closed.
“Like . . .”
“Like look at the scenery . . . and maybe go to a farm and watch them milking the cows, or something . . .”
“I see.”
“What?” I say suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re just going to pitch up at a farm, are you, and ask if you can milk the cows?”
“I didn’t say
I
was going to milk the cows,” I say with dignity. “I said I was going to
watch
the cows. And anyway, I might not go to a farm, I might go and look at some local attractions.” I reach for a pile of leaflets on the dressing table. “Like . . . this tractor exhibition. Or . . . St. Winifred’s Convent with its famous Bevington Triptych.”
“A convent,” echoes Luke after a pause.
“Yes, a convent!” I give him an indignant look. “Why shouldn’t I visit a convent? I’m actually a very spiritual person.”
“I’m sure you are, my darling,” says Luke, giving me a quizzical look. “You
might
want to put on more than a T-shirt before you go . . .”
“It’s a dress!” I say indignantly, pulling the T-shirt down over my bum. “And anyway, spirituality has nothing to do with clothes. ‘Consider the lilies of the field.’ ” I shoot him a satisfied glance.
“Fair enough.” Luke grins. “Well, enjoy yourself.” He gives me a kiss. “And Becky, I really am sorry about all this. This wasn’t the way I wanted our first weekend away to be.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, and give him a little poke in the chest. “You just make sure this mysterious deal is worth it.”
And I’m expecting Luke to laugh, or at least smile—but he just gives me a tiny nod, picks up his briefcase, and heads for the door.
I don’t actually mind having this morning to myself, because I’ve always secretly wanted to see what it’s like inside a convent. I mean, I know I don’t exactly make it to church every week, but I do have a very spiritual side to me. It seems obvious to me that there’s a greater force out there at work than us mere mortals—which is why I always read my horoscope in
The Daily World
. Plus I love that plainchant they play in yoga classes, and all the lovely candles and incense. And Audrey Hepburn in
The Nun’s Story
.
In fact, to tell you the truth, a part of me has always been attracted to the simplicity of a nun’s life. No worries, no decisions, no having to work. Just lovely singing and walking around all day. I mean, wouldn’t that be great?
So when I’ve done my makeup and watched a bit of telly, I go down to reception—and after asking fruitlessly again about my package (honestly, I’m going to sue), I order a taxi to St. Winifred’s. As we trundle along the country lanes, I look out at all the lovely scenery, and find myself wondering what Luke’s deal can be about. What on earth is this mysterious “something he’s always wanted”? I mean, I would have thought he’s already got everything he wants. He’s the most successful publicist in the financial field, he’s got a thriving company, he’s won loads of prizes . . . So what could it be? Big new client? New offices? Expanding the company, maybe?
I screw up my face, trying to remember if I’ve overheard anything recently—then, with a jolt, I remember hearing him on the phone a few weeks ago. He was talking about an advertising agency, and even at the time, I wondered why.
Yes. It’s obvious, now that I think about it. He’s always secretly wanted to be an ad director. That’s what this deal is all about. He’s going to branch out from PR and start making adverts.
And I could be in them! Yes!
I’m so excited at this thought, I almost swallow my chewing gum.
I mean, I should be able to last forty-eight hours.
“I’m going to do all lovely rural things,” I say, snapping my blusher closed.
“Like . . .”
“Like look at the scenery . . . and maybe go to a farm and watch them milking the cows, or something . . .”
“I see.”
“What?” I say suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re just going to pitch up at a farm, are you, and ask if you can milk the cows?”
“I didn’t say
I
was going to milk the cows,” I say with dignity. “I said I was going to
watch
the cows. And anyway, I might not go to a farm, I might go and look at some local attractions.” I reach for a pile of leaflets on the dressing table. “Like . . . this tractor exhibition. Or . . . St. Winifred’s Convent with its famous Bevington Triptych.”
“A convent,” echoes Luke after a pause.
“Yes, a convent!” I give him an indignant look. “Why shouldn’t I visit a convent? I’m actually a very spiritual person.”
“I’m sure you are, my darling,” says Luke, giving me a quizzical look. “You
might
want to put on more than a T-shirt before you go . . .”
“It’s a dress!” I say indignantly, pulling the T-shirt down over my bum. “And anyway, spirituality has nothing to do with clothes. ‘Consider the lilies of the field.’ ” I shoot him a satisfied glance.
“Fair enough.” Luke grins. “Well, enjoy yourself.” He gives me a kiss. “And Becky, I really am sorry about all this. This wasn’t the way I wanted our first weekend away to be.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, and give him a little poke in the chest. “You just make sure this mysterious deal is worth it.”
And I’m expecting Luke to laugh, or at least smile—but he just gives me a tiny nod, picks up his briefcase, and heads for the door.
I don’t actually mind having this morning to myself, because I’ve always secretly wanted to see what it’s like inside a convent. I mean, I know I don’t exactly make it to church every week, but I do have a very spiritual side to me. It seems obvious to me that there’s a greater force out there at work than us mere mortals—which is why I always read my horoscope in
The Daily World
. Plus I love that plainchant they play in yoga classes, and all the lovely candles and incense. And Audrey Hepburn in
The Nun’s Story
.
In fact, to tell you the truth, a part of me has always been attracted to the simplicity of a nun’s life. No worries, no decisions, no having to work. Just lovely singing and walking around all day. I mean, wouldn’t that be great?
So when I’ve done my makeup and watched a bit of telly, I go down to reception—and after asking fruitlessly again about my package (honestly, I’m going to sue), I order a taxi to St. Winifred’s. As we trundle along the country lanes, I look out at all the lovely scenery, and find myself wondering what Luke’s deal can be about. What on earth is this mysterious “something he’s always wanted”? I mean, I would have thought he’s already got everything he wants. He’s the most successful publicist in the financial field, he’s got a thriving company, he’s won loads of prizes . . . So what could it be? Big new client? New offices? Expanding the company, maybe?
I screw up my face, trying to remember if I’ve overheard anything recently—then, with a jolt, I remember hearing him on the phone a few weeks ago. He was talking about an advertising agency, and even at the time, I wondered why.
Yes. It’s obvious, now that I think about it. He’s always secretly wanted to be an ad director. That’s what this deal is all about. He’s going to branch out from PR and start making adverts.
And I could be in them! Yes!
I’m so excited at this thought, I almost swallow my chewing gum.
Similar Books
