How Not To Shop Read online

  Total est. cost: £1,750

  'This is absolutely marvellous!'

  The Tate Modern's vast Turbine Hall made a stunning party venue. Huge sculptures rose up from the bare concrete floor, dwarfing the swarm of guests. There was something amazing to look at on every wall, in front of every window.

  Although billed as an 'Art Ball', it was obvious there wasn't going to be any dancing round the priceless modern art treasures. This party was all about sipping at the champagne cocktails, chit-chatting with the other glamorous guests and posing in your fabulously creative outfit.

  When Svetlana had promised that guests could wear whatever they liked, she certainly hadn't been exaggerating. In her first quick sweep of the room, Annie could see ageing aristocratic ladies in full-on taffeta gowns, leggy London girls in cocktail dresses in all the colours of the rainbow and all sorts of mismatched, carefully thought out combos in between. No forgetting the self-styled artists in head-to-toe black or ultra-fashionable jeans spattered with oil paint.

  Annie had taken one of her cherished slinky Valentino gowns out of the wardrobe tonight, but carefully dressed it down with a denim jacket, a shell and leather necklace and high-heeled sandals with a chunky wooden heel. She hoped she struck just the right note of dressed up nonchalance which she thought the event would need.

  On her arm was Cath, who carried a small black sequined mask on a stick.

  'Just as soon as you feel nervous, you hold the mask in front of your face and you disappear, it's just like wearing big sunglasses,' Annie had told her.

  Cath was surprisingly taken with the idea. Although she'd been sweaty with nerves as she was helped into her slinky black dress and her make-up, the addition of the mask had allowed her to relax a little.

  'No-one would recognize you anyway!' Annie had told her, beaming with pleasure at the finished result. 'Look at that fabulous hair.'

  An entire afternoon at the hairdresser's had transformed Cath's stiff, frumpy pudding bowl into something darker, more wispy and modern.

  'I'll need a lesson in how to handle a pair of straighteners,' she'd told Annie.

  'Happy to oblige,' Annie had assured her.

  Once they'd been handed their first cocktails, Bob came up and insisted on taking Cath away from Annie.

  'Don't you worry, I'll look after her,' he promised. 'I've got my camera all set up and I want her to do some shots for me before she's had too many cocktails and can't walk in a straight line any more. And by the way,' he said, offering Cath his arm, 'you look fantastic.'

  For a moment, Annie was alone. But she didn't mind at all. She just lifted her glass slowly to her lips and drank in not just a mouthful of fizz but the amazing scene all around her. She wished Ed was here; she'd struggle to tell him just how over-the-top and wonderful this event was.

  So far, she'd only caught a glimpse of Finn, who was charging about issuing instructions to Bob via his Blue-tooth, acutely anxious not to miss any shots.

  'I want celebrities,' Finn had barked. 'If you see someone, anyone you recognize, stick your camera in their face. Our girls look wicked, so make sure you capture every single good angle. And if they're chatting to anyone, get in there!'

  'Annah!'

  Annie could hear the raised voice rushing towards her and knew she was about to be pressed to a generous, only slightly surgically enhanced, Ukrainian bosom.

  'Here she is!' Svetlana boomed. 'This is Annah Valentine, I so vant you to meet her.'

  Then Annie was face to face not just with Svetlana, but with a dapper, dinner-suited man she immediately understood to be Svetlana's husband in waiting.

  A big smile broke across Svetlana's high-cheekboned face: 'Harry! This is Annah,' she repeated. 'Annah, Harry!'

  Harry's beaming face, almost as shiny as his dressy black patent shoes, was split with a generous smile and as he smoothed down his remaining hair with one hand, he extended his other to Annie.

  'Annie Valentine, hello, how absolutely scrumptious to meet you,' he gushed in the kind of terribly, terribly posh English which would, once upon a time, have made Annie feel nervous and unsure of herself. Now she took it in her stride. If anything, it made her ramp up her broad, Londoner vowels.

  'Annah gave me your phone number, remember, back at the beginning when ve meet,' Svetlana offered generously, anointing Annie as the matchmaker who had brought about this happy union.

  'No, well . . .' Annie pointed out quickly, 'another client of mine recommended you, Harry. I was just the go-between.'

  'This is absolutely marvellous!' Harry's eyebrows shot up and his grin seemed to grow even wider. 'You mean I wouldn't have met my darling, darling girl without you? I do hope you're coming to the wedding. It's going to be a complete corker.'

  'Of courrrse Annah come,' Svetlana purred, before Annie even had time to wonder whether or not she would be receiving an invitation, 'I need her there to make sure dress just so and bridesmaids vonderful. Of courrrse she come.'

  In the warmth of Svetlana's beam, Annie felt a wave of gratitude. She may have inadvertently hooked Svetlana up with her next husband, but Svetlana was the one who had inadvertently landed her with the TV opportunity.

  Would there have been a Wonder Women series without Svetlana? Annie doubted it very much.

  When Finn's wife, Kelly-Anne, had come into the personal shopping suite she'd arrived as a friend of Svetlana's. And Svetlana was the one who'd taken dressmaking shears to Kelly-Anne's hair and started the real transformation, which must have impressed Finn so much that he'd contacted first Svetlana and then Annie and offered them the chance to be auditioned for the show.

  'You both look so happy together,' Annie told Svetlana and Harry generously.

  'Ya. I suit a short, bald man, no?' Svetlana teased and landed a kiss on Harry's forehead. Then she unwound herself from his embrace and informed him: 'I need to go and say hello to some people. You stay, talk to Annah. You talk to Marlise yet?' Svetlana asked Annie. With a degree of disdain, she had not yet referred to Miss Marlise as anything other than Marlise.

  'No, I'm trying to keep out of her way,' Annie confided. She had spotted Miss M once and walked quickly in the opposite direction. She did admire the girl's outfit, though: black sequined trousers and a slinky tuxedo jacket. There wasn't anything about getting dressed that Annie needed to teach her.

  'Ya. Marlise total bitch to Annah,' Svetlana explained to Harry. Then off she stalked on her four-inch Louboutins, prowling through the crowds like a panther.

  'Well, Harry, it's very nice to finally meet you,' Annie said, hoping to bring his attention back to her, because he was finding it hard to tear his eyes from his fiancée.

  'The pleasure is all mine.' He swivelled immediately back, then said, 'Isn't she marvellous? An absolutely capital girl. I still can't believe my luck! She's just so full of life. Grabs it by the . . . horns,' he settled on.

  Though from what Annie had heard of Svetlana's vibrant sex tips, 'balls' might have been more appropriate.

  'So is everything with Igor all sorted, then?' Annie felt she needed to ask. Svetlana's divorce from the gas baron had not exactly been smooth.

  'Well,' Harry leaned in and dropped his voice: as a barrister he knew all there was to know about discreet behaviour. 'The house and the one-off settlement are hers and there's a monthly allowance for the boys. But there are still a lot of hideously vague terms and conditions that I'm not happy with.'

  'Like what?' Annie ventured.

  'Igor is a stinker and if he can oil his way out of anything, believe me, he will,' Harry confided. 'I don't want to say too much, obviously, but she's had to sign all sorts of "full disclosure" documents and should she ever do anything to bring the name of Wisneski into "disrepute" she stands to lose everything . . . which is why we're in a hurry to change her name to Roscoff as quickly as possible,' he added with a smile. 'No, she's had a rough old time and I'm delighted to be charged with taking great care of her in the future.'

  'Lucky Svetlana,' Ann
ie told him and she meant it.

  When she'd first heard that Svetlana had set her sights on her divorce barrister, she'd been sure Svetlana had found herself another wealthy bastard. Especially as Svetlana had decided on Harry when she'd seen the first bill for his services. Obviously, he was much, much wealthier than she'd thought and suddenly he had 'fourth husband' written all over him.

  It had not taken long for Harry to spot Svetlana's obvious attractions: about 2.5 seconds, to be precise. About as quickly as she'd first stepped into his office in one of her glamazon outfits, purring her rrrrrs like honey all over him.

  He had not taken much longer to fall in love with her because she had simply carried out a careful seduction plan which had left him begging, gagging, divorcing for more.

  But now, something more significant seemed to have taken place. Annie could sense a genuine warmth between them. This was not just the wealthy husband/ trophy wife situation that Svetlana had put herself in so many times before.

  'I think you're going to make each other very happy,' Annie told Harry.

  'Oh my goodness, yes!' he gushed. 'She's brought me back to life! I wake up every morning excited to see her. I thought I was far too much of a withered old prune to feel like this about someone again. But there we go . . .'

  For a moment, Annie felt just ever so slightly like asking him how his ex-wife and grown-up son were taking all this bubbling over of happiness and joy at the nubile new fiancée. But then she saw something that changed her mind.

  There was Jody looking utterly sensational in the silky magenta dress and mini trilby hat they'd picked out together. Her head might have been tilted shyly downwards and her arm crossed just a little defensively across her body, but there she was, looking gorgeous and smiling, talking, giggling with a cute and very arty-looking guy.

  Result! Annie couldn't help thinking to herself and, saying goodbye to Harry, she went off in search of Bob. If he didn't already have a shot of Jody and her fan, he would have to sneak in there and get one.

  No sooner had Bob been dispatched in the right direction than Annie began to scan the room for Cath.

  There she was, beside the buffet table with her mask held up like a little invisibility cloak. She wasn't talking to anyone but her shoulders weren't hunched up, her arms weren't crossed, so maybe she was actually enjoying herself. With her mask still up and a champagne glass in one hand, she walked over to one of the sculptures for a closer look.

  'Pretty impressive hey?' Annie asked Cath as she came up to her, 'and I'm not talking about this hunk of metal. I'm talking about you!'

  When Cath smiled at this, Annie had to ask her, 'Are you having fun yet? I think you are! I don't think you're even ready to admit how much fun you are having. You're beautifully dressed, you're at an amazing event, you're a party girl in the making,' she added.

  'I'm having fun,' Cath admitted. 'I don't recognize myself so I feel as if I'm in complete disguise.'

  'Money is not so precious that you can never, ever spend a little on a treat for yourself.' Annie reminded her. 'Everyone needs a little, reasonable, perfectly within budget treat. Like this,' she held up a multi-coloured mock snakeskin clutch bag: 'Topshop, fourteen pounds and I'm loving it!' she gave Cath a wink.

  Then she spotted Bob at a discreet distance, but probably on a long lens, filming them both.

  One of the handsome young PRs for the event approached them. 'Hi,' he began, 'having fun? Getting all the footage you need?'

  'Yes, it's fantastic,' Annie assured him, 'an amazing party.'

  'I love your mask,' the PR told Cath, 'I wish I'd thought of wearing one. Then I'd be able to slink about and get into all sorts of trouble.'

  Cath giggled in response, but Annie was sure the camera was whirring and in the all-important editing suite they were bound to make it look as if Cath was being chatted up and the Wonder Women had scored an all-round resounding dating success.

  For a few more moments Annie, Cath and the PR made small talk, then Annie glanced around for Bob, hoping he would give them the thumbs-up that he'd got enough footage.

  But he wasn't there. She looked again, wondering if he was shooting them from a different angle. No sign.

  Then through a little break in the crowd Annie caught a glimpse of him. He had his back to her, because he was crouched down, busy filming Svetlana and Miss Marlise as they hugged up together and smiled for the camera.

  There was something about this that made Annie feel a little uneasy. Shouldn't she be there? Shouldn't she be part of the group, hugging and congratulating themselves on the big party success?

  'I'll be right back,' she promised Cath, then began to head in the direction of the others.

  Just as she approached Bob, a hand shot out to catch her shoulder. It was Finn's. 'One moment,' he instructed. 'Miss Marlise wanted a shot with Svetlana.'

  'Shouldn't we all be in this together?' Annie couldn't stop herself from asking.

  'Well . . . no,' Finn replied. 'This is what Miss Marlise wanted and we have to humour her a little. She's only twenty-five, she's going to be a big, big star. She's got her whole career ahead of her.'

  Annie suddenly felt compared, judged and past it. All the fizz of success she'd felt watching Cath and Jody strut their stuff, seemed to instantly evaporate.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Paula does casual:

  Grey leather jacket (Rick Owens, Store sale preview)

  Pencil leg jeans (J Brand)

  White T-shirt (Miss Selfridge)

  Fuchsia pink cut-out shoe boots (Givenchy, Store sale preview)

  Orange nails (Mac)

  Total est. cost: £630

  'Rockin' the Chloé'

  'I like the music . . . syncopated, very catchy,' came Ed's comment, as soon as the opening bars of the theme tune had begun.

  'SHHHHHH!' Annie smacked his arm. She didn't want to see one moment of this, yet she didn't want to miss one single second. This was horrific. She was going to be sick.

  But she'd organized a party! Well, no she hadn't. Not exactly. She'd told her family and just a few friends that the Home Sweet Home channel was so excited about Wonder Women, it had begged Finn to put together a pilot episode which was screening at prime time, 7 p.m., tonight.

  Her sister, Dinah, had insisted she come over to Annie's to watch it with her. Then so had her mother, Fern . . . and her Store best friend, Paula, plus Lana and Owen's friends, Greta and Milo.

  This was why there were now nine people squeezed onto every available seat, chair, sofa and cushion in the sitting room of Annie's house with their eyes glued to the TV screen.

  Annie, who had found to her dismay that she only had £65 in her bank account to last until next month, apparently, had had to drive to Costco and blow almost all of it on quiche, coleslaw, Coke, a wine box, monster bags of crisps and a bucket of popcorn.

  Well, you couldn't have people round and not feed them.

  Just maybe, for a few deluded moments, she'd thought it would be nice to have her nearest and dearest around as she watched herself on the small screen for the very first time. But now that the episode was about to begin, she was huddled up against Ed with a large sofa cushion in front of her. At the moment, she could only peek out over the cushion, ready to hide her face and stifle her screams if necessary. She couldn't remember when she had last felt so nervous.

  In one hand she was holding her mobile phone, ready to take the call from Svetlana, in the other hand was her home phone and on the end of the line was Connor.

  'Just hold me up to the TV,' he'd instructed. 'I won't be able to see it, but at least I'll be able to hear you.'