Free Mini Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella Page B

smile. ‘There’s still plenty of time.’
    But he doesn’t arrive and he doesn’t arrive. The caterers have finished setting up. Everything’s ready. By twenty to twelve I’m standing with Minnie in the hall, staring out at the drive. I was texting him every five minutes but I’ve given up now. I feel a bit dreamlike. Where is he? How can he not be here?
    ‘Love, we need to go.’ Mum has come up softly behind me. ‘Everyone will be arriving at the church.’
    ‘But …’ I turn to see her face all creased up anxiously. She’s right. We can’t let everyone down. ‘OK. Let’s go.’
    As we leave the house I get out my phone and start to text yet again, my vision a little blurred.
    Dear Luke, we are going to church. You are missing christening.
    I buckle Minnie into her little seat in Dad’s car and slide in beside her. I can tell that Mum and Dad are almost killing themselves with restraint, not laying into Luke.
    ‘I’m sure he’s got a good reason,’ says Dad at last, as he pulls out of the drive. There’s silence, as obviously none of us can think of what that reason might be.
    ‘What was it again, love?’ ventures Mum. ‘Some crisis?’
    ‘Apparently.’ I’m staring rigidly out of the window. ‘Something huge. But it might not happen. That’s all I know.’ My phone suddenly pings.
    Becky, so sorry. Can’t explain. Still here. Will take helicopter asap. Wait for me. L
    I stare at my phone in slight disbelief. Helicopter? He’s coming by helicopter?
    All of a sudden I feel a bit cheered up. In fact, I almost forgive him for disappearing off and being so mysterious. I’m about to tell Mum and Dad (very casually) about the helicopter, when the phone bleeps again.
    May be a little while yet. Shit about to hit fan. What shit? I text back, feeling prickles of frustration. What fan?
    But there’s no reply. Aargh, he’s so annoying. He always has to be so mysterious. It’s probably just some boring old investment fund that made slightly fewer zillions of pounds than it was supposed to. Big deal.
    The church is already full of guests as we enter and I wander around, greeting Mum’s bridge friends, half of whom are in Japanese outfits. (I am so having it out with Mum later.) I hear myself saying about fifty times, ‘Actually, it’s a Japanese-Russian fusion theme’ and ‘Luke’s just on his way by helicopter,’ then Mum leads Minnie off by the hand and I can hear everyone cooing over her.
    ‘Bex!’ I turn to see Suze, looking amazing in a purple embroidered coat, fur-trimmed boots and her hair pinned up with a couple of wooden coffee stirrers from Starbucks.
    ‘This was the best I could do,’ she says, gesturing at them crossly. ‘You said Russian! How did Japanese suddenly enter the picture?’
    ‘It was Mum’s fault!’ I’m about to launch into the whole story when the Reverend Parker approaches, all smart in his swishy white robes.
    ‘Oh, hi there!’ I beam. ‘How are you?’
    Reverend Parker is fab. He isn’t one of those super-holy, make-you-feel-bad-about-everything vicars. He’s more of a Do-have-a-gin-and-tonic-before-lunch vicar. His wife works in the City and he’s always got a tan and drives a Jaguar.
    ‘I’m very well.’ He shakes my hand warmly. ‘Lovely to see you, Rebecca. And may I say, it’s charming, your Japanese theme. I’m quite a sushi fan myself.’
    ‘It’s Japanese-Russian fusion, actually,’ I correct him firmly. ‘We’re having blinis, too, and vodka shots.’
    ‘Ah, indeed.’ He beams. ‘Now, I gather that Luke’s been held up?’
    ‘He’ll be here very soon.’ I cross my fingers behind my back. ‘Any minute now.’
    ‘Good. Because I am a little pressed for time. And presumably you’ve decided on your daughter’s middle names? Could you possibly write them down for me?’
    Oh God.
    ‘Nearly.’ I pull an agonized face. ‘I’m so nearly there …’
    ‘Rebecca, really,’ says Reverend Parker a tad impatiently. ‘I can’t