We’re all so busy arguing, it’s a while before I realize that Luke is in the doorway, watching, his mouth twitching at the edges in amusement.
‘Oh hi!’ I leap up, relieved to escape. ‘How’s it going? Are you OK?’
‘Fine.’ He nods. ‘I just popped up to say goodnight to Minnie. She was asleep.’ He smiles ruefully and I feel a twinge of sympathy for him. He hardly ever sees Minnie these days.
‘She took all her toys to bed again,’ I tell him. ‘Including her dolls’ house.’
‘Again?’ He laughs.
Minnie’s latest trick is to get out of bed after I’ve said goodnight, gather all her toys and take them back to bed with her, so there’s barely any room for her. I went up earlier this evening and found her fast asleep, clasping her wooden pony, with about twenty soft toys and her dolls’ house all on top of the duvet, crowding her out of bed.
‘Luke!’ Mum finally notices him and stops mid-flow through a tirade about how Dad never even has toast for breakfast so what does he know? ‘We were just discussing the situation.’
‘Situation?’ He raises his eyebrows at me in query.
‘We’re all trying to think of ways to save money,’ I explain, hoping Luke might say, ‘What a ludicrous idea, everything’s on the up, let’s crack open some champagne.’
But he just nods thoughtfully. ‘That’s not a bad idea, the way things are going.’
‘But how are things going?’ Mum demands shrilly. ‘Luke, you know. Is the Daily World right or wrong? Because I heard a chap on the radio and he said there would be a domino effect. And we’re the dominoes!’
‘No, we’re not.’ Dad raises his eyes to heaven. ‘The banks are the dominoes.’
‘Well, what are we, then?’ Mum glares at him. ‘The dice?’
‘Jane,’ Luke interrupts tactfully. ‘You don’t want to believe everything you hear in the media. There are some extreme views out there. The truth is, it’s still too early to call. What I can say is, confidence has plummeted and there’s a lot of panic. Not just in banking, in every sector. Whether it’s justified … that’s the question.’
I can tell Mum’s not satisfied.
‘But what do the experts say?’ she persists.
‘Luke is an expert!’ I chime in, indignantly.
‘Economic gurus aren’t fortune-tellers, unfortunately.’ Luke shrugs. ‘And they don’t always agree. What I would say is, it’s never a bad idea to be prudent.’
‘Absolutely.’ Dad nods approvingly. ‘That’s what I was saying. Our spending has got quite out of hand, Jane, crisis or no crisis. Four pounds, this cost!’ He waves the jar of gooseberry jam. ‘Four pounds!’
‘Very well.’ Mum glares at Dad. ‘From now on, I’ll only shop at the pound shop. Will that make you happy, Graham?’
‘Me too!’ I say supportively
I’ve never actually been to a pound shop, but they’ve got to be good. I mean, everything only costs a quid, for a start.
‘My darling, we’re not quite that penurious.’ Luke kisses me on the forehead. ‘The easiest way we could save money, if you ask me, would be if you wore some of your clothes more than once.’
Not this again.
‘I do wear them more than once,’ I say crossly. ‘You always exaggerate—’
‘How often have you worn that cardigan with the red button?’ he asks innocently.
‘It’s … I’ve …’ I stop, a bit stymied.
Damn. Why haven’t I worn it? I don’t even know where it is. Did I leave it somewhere?
‘A hundred times, wasn’t it?’ Luke looks as though he’s enjoying this. ‘Isn’t that what you said?’
‘I’m intending to wear it a hundred times,’ I say stonily. ‘I didn’t specify exactly when.’
‘How many clothes have you got, anyway, stashed away in your cupboards?’
‘I … er …’
‘Do you have any idea?’
‘Too many,’ snorts Dad. ‘Are we going to count the boots cluttering up my garage?’
‘Any idea at all?’ persists Luke.
‘I don’t … It’s not …’ I trail off in confusion.
What kind of question is that, anyway, ‘How many clothes have you got?’ It’s totally unreasonable.
‘How many clothes have you got?’ I retort, and Luke thinks for about one micro-second.
‘Nine suits, some too old to wear now. Around thirty shirts. Fifty or so ties. I should cull some. Evening wear. I don’t need to shop for another year, except for socks.’ He shrugs again. ‘And I won’t. Not in the current climate. I don’t think it would send the right signals to turn up to work in a new bespoke suit.’
Trust Luke to have an answer.
‘Well, you’re a man. It’s different. I work in fashion, remember?’
‘I know,’ he says mildly. ‘My only point is that if you wore each of your clothes, say, three times, before buying anything new, your clothes bill might go down.’ He shrugs. ‘You said you wanted ideas to save money.’
I didn’t want those kind of ideas. I wanted ideas involving things I’m not interested in, like petrol or insurance. But now I’m a bit stuffed.
‘Fine!’ I fold my arms. ‘I’ll wear every single item in my wardrobe three times before I even think of going shopping again. Satisfied?’