‘Here’s the thing.’ Luke looks up at last, and his usual polished veneer is gone. ‘I don’t want to lie to all of you. I don’t want to put on an act, because this is too important to me. I want to say what I really feel. Someone did give the game away earlier on. A little. So yes, I was expecting … something. But you know what? A party like this isn’t about the surprise factor. It’s about someone going to so much trouble that it just … overwhelms you. And you think, “What did I do to deserve this?”’ He pauses, his voice trembling a bit. ‘I am the luckiest man alive, and I’d like to propose a toast. To Becky.’
I’m glancing at my phone. It’s been buzzing with texts throughout and I’ve only had half an ear on Luke’s little speech. But now I look up.
‘OK, Luke.’ I allow myself a smile. ‘You’re wrong. This kind of party is all about the surprise factor. Take your drink. Take your coat. And step this way, please. Everyone, if you could collect your coats and follow us …’
Out of nowhere, Daryl, Nicole, Julie and three of their friends have materialized and are efficiently pushing in rails of coats. All the guests are looking at each other, flummoxed. Daryl winks at me – and I wink back. He’s a total star, Daryl. He got in touch a week ago and said he’d really improved on the fire-eating and did I want to audition him again? Whereupon I said no thanks – but there was another little job he could do. All six teenagers are dressed smartly in white shirts and waistcoats, and Nicole’s wearing her Vivienne Westwood shoes, I notice.
Luke hasn’t moved a muscle. He looks utterly gobsmacked.
Ha!
‘Becky …’ He wrinkles his brow. ‘What on earth …’
Ha! Ha!
‘You think this is your party?’ I nod at the marquee derisively.
I almost want to skip with glee as I lead him back through Janice’s house to the drive. And they’re here. Right on cue. Four massive coaches, parked outside. They’re jet black and on the side is printed in white:
LUKE’S REAL SURPRISE PARTY.
‘Wh—’
Luke’s jaw has dropped. He seems unable to speak.
Yessssss!
‘In you get,’ I say blithely.
***
I know, I know, I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.
I wanted to. But I was afraid you might blab.
***
The atmosphere in the coach is fantastic. The whole level of festivity seems to have gone up ten notches. I keep hearing snatches of ‘Where are we going?’ and ‘Did you know?’ and gales of laughter.
And Luke just seems stunned. I’ve never seen him so stunned. I must surprise him more often.
‘OK, blindfold on …’ I say as we reach the turning.
‘No.’ He starts to laugh. ‘You can’t be serious!’
‘Blindfold on!’ I lift a mock-stern finger and waggle it at him.
This is quite a power trip, actually. He’s totally under my control. I yank the ends of the blindfold really tight, and peer out of the front of the coach. We’re nearly there!
I text Suze Five minutes and immediately get back OK. She’s there, waiting for me, along with Mum, Dad, Minnie, Danny and the rest of Team Two.
Oh yes. I had two teams. Well, actually, that was Elinor’s idea.
I know Elinor’s still there too, because Suze sent me a text a few minutes ago saying that Elinor had been checking every last-minute detail fanatically and all the staff were petrified of her.
As we head up the long avenue of trees I can see all the guests peering curiously out of the coach windows and I furiously make a finger-to-lips gesture. Not that Luke would guess, probably. He’s only been to Suze’s new house once.
I say ‘house’. What I mean is, ‘stately home with parkland’.
It was such a last-minute decision to come here. We’d planned to hire a venue, and Elinor was poised to bribe some other event to move (she’s totally ruthless, like a trained assassin), when Suze suddenly said, ‘Wait! What about Letherby Hall?’
I think sometimes Suze actually forgets how many houses she and Tarquin possess. She certainly had no idea how many bedrooms it’s got.
Anyway. Once we’d made that decision, everything fell into place. Or at least, was shoved very quickly into place. And it’s the perfect, dreamiest, most romantic setting for a party. I can hear people oohing and aahing behind me as they catch sight of the house, with its two grand wings and central dome and Doric pilasters all over the place. (I know they’re Doric pilasters because Tarkie told me. In fact, I’m quite hoping someone asks me about them.)
There’s a breeze in the air as we all pile out of the coaches and crunch forward over the gravel. The front entrance is open and lit up and I usher everyone in silently, still guiding Luke. We cross the ancient stone floor and soon we’re all assembled, standing in front of the grand double doors to the Great Hall.
I can hear the whispers and giggles and ‘sssh!’s going on behind me. I can feel the anticipation now. I almost feel frightened. This is it. This is the moment.
‘OK.’ My voice shakes a little as I untie his blindfold. ‘Luke … happy birthday.’
As I open the double doors, the gasp behind Luke is like hearing the rush of water. But I’m only looking at his face. It’s ashen.
If I wanted blown away and speechless … then I’ve got it.
He takes a step forward, wonderingly. Then another … then another.
The whole of the Great Hall has been transformed into the stage of that vintage toy theatre he bought for Minnie; the toy theatre of his childhood. All the Midsummer Night’s Dream sets have been painstakingly reproduced. There are the same bushes and trees and castle spires, there’s a brook and moss. Little tables and chairs are nestled amongst the foliage. A band is playing low, magical music. Set here and there in the trees, like big flowers, are more of my pom-poms. I can’t help feeling proud. They do look good.