This is maybe the most mindblowing thing of all. Elinor Sherman, grandest, snootiest woman in the world, for once hasn’t told me or bossed me or lectured me. She’s asked. And now she’s waiting meekly for an answer.
Or at least as meekly as you can when you’re dressed head-to-toe in Chanel with your driver waiting.
‘OK,’ I say slowly, and give her a sudden grin. ‘OK, Elinor. You’re on.’
‘Thank you.’ Elinor hesitates. ‘Rebecca, I wish to say something else. I know you have been determined to throw this party yourself. I know you take pride in being independent. But you must not underestimate the pleasure it will give others to do something for Luke, in whichever way is appropriate.’
‘My friend Suze said something like that to me, too,’ I say slowly. ‘She wanted to help but I wouldn’t let her.’
I wince as I remember Suze’s hurt voice, saying, ‘It’s not always about you, OK? It’s not because we think you can’t do it. It’s because Luke isn’t just your husband, he’s our friend too, and we wanted to do something nice for him.’
She really wanted to get involved. And I was too proud to let her. Even now, I haven’t actually asked, have I? I’ve waited for her to volunteer. Well, no wonder she hasn’t.
I suddenly feel like the biggest cow there ever was.
‘Elinor, excuse me a minute …’ I take a few steps away, pulling out my phone, and speed-dial Suze again.
‘Bex?’ She sounds surprised. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Listen, Suze,’ I say in a trembling rush. ‘I’m so sorry. I wish I’d asked you to help with the party all along. I love your idea about the special shortbread. Luke would be so touched. And I was just going to say …’ I swallow hard. ‘Is it too late? Would you help?’
There’s a still, beating silence for a moment, then Suze says, ‘Be honest, Bex. Have you got yourself in a totally shit mess?’
‘Yes!’ I give a half-laugh, half-sob. ‘I have.’
‘Then Tarkie owes me a fiver,’ she says with satisfaction. ‘OK. When, where, and what do I need to do?’
KENTISH ENGLISH SPARKLING WINE
Spandings House
Mallenbury
Kent
Ms Rebecca Brandon
The Pines
43 Elton Road
Oxshott
Surrey
3 April 2006
Dear Mrs Brandon
Thank you very much for your letter of 27 March.
I’m glad our consignment of 50 bottles of sparkling wine reached you safely and that on tasting, you were so ‘struck’ by its punchy and distinctive flavour. We’re very proud of it!
However, I totally understand if, as you say, you have recently discovered the Temperance Movement and decided to make your party teetotal. We will arrange to have the bottles picked up without delay and hope your party goes with a (dry) swing!
Yours truly
Paul Spry
Marketing Director
P.S. We will shortly be launching a non-alcoholic sparkling wine and I will be pleased to forward you ten bottles, with our compliments.
EIGHTEEN
So much has happened. There are only three days to go. I can’t quite believe it. And finally, finally, everything is on track.
Elinor has the most amazing contacts in the world. She can just make things happen. She points her bony finger and it’s instantly done. At least, she points her bony finger at an assistant, and he gets it instantly done.
So she’s not exactly a riot. We don’t exactly high-five each other when we get a result. And she doesn’t seem to understand the function of chocolate, let alone want to share the odd KitKat. But the plus points are:
1.She wants Luke’s party to be fabulous.
2.She’s thrown a million smart parties before.
3.She has loads and loads and loads of money.
I mean, money’s just not an issue any more. Even Suze has been quite wide-eyed at the way Elinor doles it out without a flicker. Jess, of course, can’t cope. Jess puts her hands over her ears and says, ‘I don’t want to know.’ And then she takes them off again and lectures Elinor on sustainability and responsible sourcing. To my amazement, Elinor always listens gravely – and a few times she’s even agreed to Jess’s suggestions. (Although not the one about knitting woolly hats out of recycled yarn which we hand out to guests, so we won’t need heaters. Thank God.)
Honestly, the party’s going to be just …
I mean, it’ll be the most …
No. I won’t say anything more. I don’t want to jinx it.
It’s even been quite fun, the five of us having our top-secret meetings. (Me, Suze, Jess, Bonnie and Elinor.) Elinor always leaves first and the rest of us wait breathlessly till she’s out of earshot, then erupt with hysteria at something she said or did. I mean, she’s still totally ice-queen most of the time. But even so, she’s almost starting to feel – in a weird way – like one of the gang.
Luke has no idea. None. He still thinks I’m at work two and a half days a week and I haven’t put him right.
The only unresolved issue is the meeting with Christian Scott-Hughes. Bernard Cross has been at some retreat in Sweden and uncontactable. But he’s back today. Elinor has stated she’s going to get on the phone to him this morning and won’t take no for an answer. And I believe her.
So the biggest challenge left is keeping the party secret from Luke until Friday. But we’ve got this far; we can make it to Friday, surely. Today, Bonnie’s finally revealing to Luke’s entire staff that there isn’t a conference, it’s a surprise party instead. There’s bound to be a big buzz, and we decided I should keep Luke out of the office on some pretext. So we’re going to see a possible school for Minnie this morning. (I told Luke we’d already left it really late, and he had to come too because otherwise they’d think we weren’t committed parents and no, I couldn’t just tell him about it later.)