Eric’s guffaw of laughter nearly deafens me. ‘Is that your quote?’ he says. ‘ ”It was supposed to be a secret?” I’ve been emailed about it eight times today already. I thought this was your own viral campaign, my love.’
‘No! I want it to stop!’
He roars with laughter again. ‘You can’t control it now. It’s all over the place. Even people who don’t know him are passing it on. You know the marketing team from Atlas Fund Management are on retreat in Kent? They’ve written “Happy Birthday Luke” with their cars in the car park. Just sent me the picture. I’m going to print it tomorrow unless I get a better one.’
‘No!’ I nearly shout in horror. ‘You can’t! I’m throwing Luke a surprise party! Which means he’s supposed to be surprised.’ I feel hot with frustration. Doesn’t anyone get this?
‘Oh, this gets better and better. So he has no idea, does he?’
‘None!’
‘And the party’s tomorrow night?’
‘Yes,’ I say automatically, then curse myself. Eric might be my friend, but first and foremost he’s a tabloid journalist.
‘Don’t let him near the Daily World, then.’ Eric gives a laugh. ‘I’ll be featuring this as my main story. The City needs a good cheer-up after all that’s happened recently. You, young lady, have given everyone a reason to have a bit of fun. I’m not spiking that. General features editor’ll be on to you too, I’m sure.’
‘But—’
‘And we won’t be the only ones, either. So you’d better keep your old man away from the press.’
‘No! You can’t!’
But he’s gone. I stare dumbly at the phone. This can’t be happening. My top-secret, surprise party which no one was supposed to know about … is being printed in the newspapers?
By the evening, I’m just about holding it together, even though there are now twenty-three YouTube tributes and Eric has already put a piece about Luke’s party on the Daily World online City page. I’ve sent a desperate email out to all the guests and Brandon Communications clients, telling them the party is still a surprise and asking them please, please not to try and contact Luke.
Bonnie has biked round a big pile of paperwork to distract Luke tonight, and a couple of friendly clients have agreed to try and occupy him tomorrow with various made-up issues. But none of them sounds that convincing. To be honest, I’m stressed out. We still have a whole night and day before the party and the whole world knows about it and there’s a massive great marquee flapping next door. I mean, how am I going to keep this a secret?
‘Don’t worry. Not long now.’ Suze gives me a kiss, her coat and scarf already on. ‘I’ll be off now. See you tomorrow for the big day!’
‘Suze.’ I catch her hands. ‘Thanks so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you, and Tarkie and … and everything.’
‘Don’t be silly. It’s been fun! Anyway, Elinor did most of it. And Bex …’ She pauses, suddenly more serious. ‘Luke will be blown away. He really will.’
‘You really think so?’
‘I know it. It’s going to be sensational.’ She squeezes my hands. ‘I’d better run, or he’ll see me.’
As the front door closes, my phone rings yet again and I look at it wearily. I’ve been on the phone so long today, I feel like my vocal cords are wearing out. At last I summon the energy to pick it up. I don’t recognize the number, which is no surprise.
‘Hello? Becky here.’
‘Becky?’ comes a soft, female voice. ‘You don’t know me, but my name is Sage Seymour.’
What?
A huge spurt of adrenalin shoots through me, like three cans of Red Bull and winning the Olympics, all at once. I’m talking to Sage Seymour? She knows my name?
Sage Seymour is sitting somewhere, holding a phone, talking to me. Ooh, I wonder what she’s wearing. I mean, not in a pervy way. Just in a—
Come on, Becky. Answer.
‘Oh. Oh hi.’ I’m trying desperately to sound cool, but my stupid voice has shot up three octaves. ‘Um, hi! Hi!’
I can’t seem to move off the word ‘hi’.
‘I’ve hired your husband to do some publicity work,’ she says, her lilting voice totally familiar now. ‘But I guess you know that.’
My mind scampers in panic. Do I know? I mean, obviously not officially. But if I say Luke hasn’t told me, does it sound weird? Like he’s not interested or never talks to his wife?
‘It’s so exciting!’ I swallow. ‘I’m a huge fan.’
I want to shoot myself. I sound so lame.
‘It was a bit “out there” as a choice. But, you know, I was so sick of Hollywood bullshitters. Your husband had more sensible ideas for me in ten minutes than any of those bozos.’
I feel a flash of pride. I knew Luke would do a good job.
‘So, I heard about your party,’ Sage adds casually. ‘Sounds like a big deal.’
G’uh? How does she—
‘Y-yes,’ I stutter. ‘I mean, pretty big …’
‘I went on YouTube. Awesome tributes. Then my assistant got the email from Bonnie. You need to distract Luke, right?’
‘Yes! It’s all got out on the internet, and it’s supposed to be a big surprise and—’
‘How about I keep him busy for you?’ says Sage calmly. ‘I could demand he comes to the set. Throw a diva hissy. I can put on a good show. Once he’s at the set we’ll take care of him. Show him around, keep him occupied till you need him. Then we’ll send him off in a car.’
‘Wow.’ I gulp. ‘That would be amazing.’
I am so jealous. I want to go to the movie set. I want to be shown around. I’m frantically trying to think of an essential reason why I should go there too, when she adds, ‘You used to be on the telly, right? Morning Coffee?’
‘Yes!’ I say in amazement.
‘I used to watch you when I was off work. You were funny.’
‘Well … thanks!’ I gulp.
‘We should have a drink some time.’
It’s like the world tips on its side. I grip the phone, wondering if I just dreamed that. Sage Seymour has suggested we have a drink? A top, Oscar-winning movie star has suggested we have a drink? My whole life I’ve fantasized about this moment. I mean, I always felt it was meant to be. Didn’t I say? Didn’t I know all along I was meant to mix with movie stars?
Maybe we’ll become best friends!
Maybe I’ll be a bridesmaid at her wedding. You know, if she gets married or anything. I wouldn’t need to be the one standing next to her. I could be three along.
‘That would be … great.’ I somehow manage to get the words out.
‘Cool. Well, don’t worry about Luke. It’s in hand. And good luck tomorrow! Bye, Becky.’
And just like that, she’s gone. Feverishly I save her number in my phone. Sage Seymour. In my phone. Sage Seymour. Just like she’s any of my friends.
Oh my God, this is so cool.
I’m just sending a quick text to Gary and Bonnie – Good news! Sage Seymour says she will take care of Luke tomorrow till party – when I hear the crackling sound of Luke’s key in the front door. I thrust my phone away and grab a magazine.
OK. Act natural. I have not just been chatting with my new best friend Sage Seymour.
‘Hi there!’ I say, glancing up. ‘Good day? How was Gary?’
‘Fuck knows.’ Luke shakes his head. ‘He was making no sense at all. I’ve told him he needs a holiday.’ He grimaces as he takes off his coat. ‘Bloody hell. My arm. I’ve had five thousand jabs.’
‘Oh dear!’ I say sympathetically. ‘Well, I’m sure they were all necessary. If it’s a matter of your health …’
‘I’ve never known a medical like it. That doctor made me run for an hour.’ He looks incredulous. ‘And there were six questionnaires, all repeating each other. Whoever devises these things is an utter imbecile.’
Davina told me earlier that Luke was the stroppiest patient she’d ever had and that he’d given her a lecture on
how inefficient and time-wasting her medical was. Which is fair enough, given that she spun it out for four hours longer than normal.
‘Poor you.’ I stifle a laugh. ‘Well, I’m afraid a whole pile of paperwork arrived for you to read urgently …’
Just in case you thought you were escaping for a minute.
I drag over the box that Bonnie couriered round this afternoon, which is full of contracts and letters. That should keep him busy.
‘Let me get online.’ Luke perks up. ‘Is this my new laptop? Excellent.’
I feel prickles of alarm as he unpacks it from its box. Even though I know it’s safe. They promised me. Sure enough, after a little while, Luke curses again.
‘Bloody thing’s got no internet access!’ He jabs at it a few times. ‘What’s wrong with this bloody server?’
‘Oh dear,’ I say innocently. ‘Never mind. Well, why not just deal with the paperwork? You can sort out your laptop tomorrow. Have you eaten? Would you like some risotto? Janice brought some round.’
I’m just heating up the risotto in the kitchen when I hear Luke’s phone ring.
‘Luke Brandon.’ I can just about hear him answer. ‘Oh, Sage! Hello there. Just wait a minute …’
The living-room door is shut. Damn.
I hesitate for a moment – then tiptoe through the hall and press my ear to the door.
‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that,’ Luke is saying. ‘Of course you’re our number-one priority. Sage … Listen, Sage … No one’s saying that, Sage …’
Yes! She’s obviously giving a brilliant show. Well, of course she is. She’s an actress.
‘Well, of course I can … 8 a.m.? At Pinewood. OK, fine. I’ll see you there.’
There’s silence from the living room, and I wonder whether to tiptoe away, when I hear his voice again.
‘Bonnie? It’s Luke here. Just had Sage Seymour on the phone. I’m afraid she’s confirmed every suspicion I ever had. Nightmare woman. She’s insisting I come to her movie set first thing tomorrow.’ He pauses. ‘I don’t know why! This has come out of nowhere! She was talking gibberish about press statements and strategies, she seems totally self-obsessed, paranoid we’re not taking enough interest … Anyway, I’ll call you when I’m on my way back to the office.’ He lowers his voice, so I have to press even harder against the door to hear. ‘Thank goodness I didn’t tell Becky. Something told me to wait until we knew it was going to work out—’ He breaks off. ‘No! Of course I haven’t mentioned that to Becky yet. It’s only a possibility. We’ll cross that bridge when we need to.’
My ears prick up. What’s a possibility? What bridge?
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Bonnie. Thanks for that.’
Shit. He’s coming. I dart back to the kitchen, where of course the risotto has burned at the bottom of the pan. I’m briskly stirring the burnt bits into the rest when Luke comes in.
‘I’ve got an early start tomorrow, by the way,’ he says guardedly. ‘Seeing a client.’
‘Have some food, then.’ I put a plate down in front of him, like a perfect, unsuspicious wife. ‘Big day tomorrow. Your birthday, remember?’
‘Shit. Of course it is.’ Alarm briefly crosses his face. ‘Becky, you haven’t made any plans, have you? You know we’ve got this big company training programme? It’ll go on into the evening, I don’t know when I’ll be back …’
‘Of course.’ I manage an easy tone. ‘No worries! We’ll do something nice on Saturday.’
Oh God. I can’t cope. My mouth keeps twitching with faint hysteria and I feel as if thought bubbles must be floating above my head.
There’s a marquee outside the window! It’s your party tomorrow! We’re all in on the surprise except you!
I can’t believe he hasn’t guessed. I can’t believe I’ve kept it secret for this long. I feel like there’s only the thinnest curtain hiding everything in my brain and any minute he’ll sweep it aside and see the lot.
‘Becky …’ Luke is surveying me with a perplexed frown. ‘Is something up? Are you upset about something?’
‘What?’ I jump. ‘No! Nothing! Don’t be silly.’ I grab my glass of wine, take a swig, them beam at Luke as convincingly as I can. ‘Nothing’s up. It’s all good.’
Keep it together, Becky. Just keep it together. Less than twenty-four hours to go.
People Who Know About Parti
Me
Suze
Tarquin
Danny
Jess
Tom
Mum
Dad
Janice
Martin
Bonnie
Those three women who were listening at the next-door table
Gary
Janice’s plumber
Rupert and Harry at The Service
Erica
Marketing directors of Bollinger, Dom Perignon, Bacardi, Veuve Clicquot, Party Time Beverages, Jacob’s Creek, Kentish English Sparkling Wine
Cliff
Manicurist (I was so stressed out, I had to talk to someone, and she promised not to blab)
165 invited guests (not including Brandon C lot)
500 readers of Style Central
Elinor
Ritz waiter (I’m, sure he was listening)
Elinor’s staff (6)
Caterers (how many actually know? Maybe only one or two?)
35 Brandon C staff
10,000 Brandon C contacts
97,578 users of You Tube. (In fact, 98, 4-71 – has just gone up)
1.8 million readers of Daily World
Total = 1,909,209
OK. Don’t panic. As long as they all keep quiet until tomorrow.
TWENTY
And suddenly it’s three clock on the day of the party. Less than four hours to go.
I haven’t sat down all day and my legs are aching and my wrist is stiff from clamping my phone to my ear … but we’re there. We’re really there. Everything’s in place and it all looks breathtaking. Everyone’s in position. The team-leaders have had their final meeting. Elinor’s in overdrive. She and Jess have become a sort of sub-team, ticking off lists and double-checking every detail obsessively together. In fact there’s a competitive spirit growing between them, as they locate all the glitches and find solutions as fast as possible, like crack party troubleshooters.
Jess keeps telling Elinor that she’s a talented woman, and she should come out to Chile and use her organizational skills for something worthwhile, and has she ever thought about voluntary work? To which Elinor just puts on that blank, stony expression. (I couldn’t help retorting to Jess yesterday: who says a party isn’t worthwhile?)
Luke is still with Sage on her movie set at Pinewood and she keeps sending me updates by text. Apparently everyone’s in on the secret, the whole cast and crew. They confiscated his new mobile phone as soon as he arrived, and plonked him on a director’s chair with earphones. When he got restless, they showed him around all the sets and trailers. Then they gave him lunch. Then Sage made up a load of stuff to complain about. Then they plonked him back on the director’s chair. Every time he tries to speak to her she says ‘Shh! I have to concentrate!’ or the director tells him off.
So basically, he’s taken care of until six o’clock. Then Bonnie is going to ring him and say she sent over a vital contract to the house by mistake and it needs signing today, so could he go and sign it and fax it to her? And the car will bring him back here. And I’ll greet him at the door. And then …
Every time I think about it I get goosebumps. I can’t wait. I can’t wait!
The caterers are scurrying about in Janice’s kitchen. The marquee is lit up like a spaceship. Janice’s garden is like a festival of bunting.
Now I just need to have a bath and do my nails and get Minnie ready …
‘Hello, Becky, love.’
Mum’s voice nearly makes me drop my cup of tea all over the floor. She must have let herself in without me hearing.
My stomach flips with apprehension as s
he comes into the room. I’m not ready for this. The only communication I’ve had with Mum has been cryptic back-and-forth texts during the last few days via Janice’s mobile.
It all kicked off when Janice asked Mum and Dad for drinks before the party, whereupon Mum replied that if her own daughter wasn’t going to invite her then she wasn’t going to come. Janice texted back that she was sure Mum was invited, didn’t she have an invitation? Mum replied touchily that she’d been disinvited. So I told Janice that Mum was only disinvited if she wanted to be. And Mum said that she wasn’t going to impose herself where she wasn’t welcome. Then Dad chipped in and rang Janice and said we were all being ridiculous. And that was kind of where it was left.
‘Oh.’ I swallow. ‘Hi, Mum. I thought you were still at The West Place. Where’s Dad?’
‘Outside, in the car. So, it’s the party tonight, I take it?’
Her voice sounds so stiff and hurt that I cringe, simultaneously feeling a bit resentful. She’s the one who’s been living it up with mud wraps and cocktails. How come she gets to be stiff and resentful?
‘Yes.’ I pause a moment, then add with a shrug, ‘You were right, by the way. It was all nearly a disaster. Turns out I couldn’t do it on my own.’
‘Love, no one ever said you had to do it on your own. And I’m sorry I said …’ Mum trails off awkwardly.
‘Well, I’m sorry too,’ I say, a bit stiffly. ‘I hope I don’t let you down tonight.’
‘I wasn’t aware that I was invited.’
‘Well … I wasn’t aware that you weren’t.’
We’re both standing at angles to each other, our chins averted. I’m not sure where we go from here.
‘Oh, love.’ Mum’s cool façade crumbles first. ‘Let’s not argue! I’m sorry I ever mentioned … you-know-who. Mr Wham! Club Tropicana fellow. Wake Me Up Before You Go Go.’
‘I know who you mean,’ I say hastily, before she does the whole of Wham! Rap.
‘I didn’t mean to put you down. I was just anxious for you, love.’
‘Mum, you don’t need to worry about me!’ I roll my eyes. ‘I’m a grown-up, remember? I’m twenty-nine. I’m a mother.’