Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3)

Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3) Page 58

I give a half-smile — but I’m still raw inside.

“I know loads of people have prenups here,” I say. “I know that. But she shouldn’t just… draw one up without consulting either of us! Do you know how she made me feel?”

“I know.” Luke strokes my back soothingly. “I’m furious with her.”

“You’re not.”

“Of course I am.”

“No, you’re not! You’re never furious with her! That’s the trouble.” I break away from his arms, trying to keep calm.

“Becky?” Luke stares at me. “Is something else wrong?”

“It’s not just this. It’s… everything! The way she’s taken over the wedding. The way she was so supercilious and horrible with my parents…”

“She’s naturally a very formal person,” says Luke defensively. “It doesn’t mean she’s trying to be supercilious. If your parents really got to know her—”

“And the way she uses you!” I know I’m on dangerous ground — but now I’ve started, I can’t stop everything pouring out. “You’ve given her hours and hours of your time. You’ve provided staff for her charity. You’ve even fallen out with Michael because of her. I just don’t understand it! You know Michael cares about you. You know he’s only got your best interests at heart. But because of your mother, you’re not even talking to him.”

Luke’s face flinches, and I can see I’ve touched a nerve.

“And now she wants us to move to this building. Don’t you see? She just wants to get her claws into you! She’ll have you running errands for her all day long, and she’ll never leave us alone… Luke, you’re already giving her so much!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Luke’s expression is gradually becoming tighter. “She’s my mother.”

“I know she is! But come on. She was never even interested in you before you became a success over here. Remember our first trip to New York? You were so desperate to impress her — and she didn’t even make the effort to see you! But now that you’ve made it here, you’ve got a name, you’ve got contacts in the media, you’ve got resources — and all of a sudden she wants to get all the credit and just use you…”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true! You just can’t see it! You’re too dazzled by her!”

“Look, Becky, it’s easy for you to criticize,” says Luke hotly. “You have a fantastic relationship with your mother. I barely saw mine when I was growing up—”

“Exactly!” I cry, before I can stop myself. “That proves my point! She didn’t give a shit about you then either!”

Oh, bugger. I shouldn’t have said that. A flash of pain passes through Luke’s eyes and suddenly he looks about ten years old.

“You know that’s not true,” he says. “My mother wanted me. It wasn’t her fault.”

“I know. I’m sorry—” I move toward him, but he jerks away.

“Put yourself in her shoes for a change, Becky. Think about what she’s gone through. Having to leave behind her child; having to put on a brave face. She’s been used to hiding her feelings for so long, no wonder her manner can be a little awkward.”

Listening to him, I almost want to cry. He’s got it all worked out. He’s still like the boy who made every excuse in the world for why his mother never came to see him.

“But now we’re having a chance to forge our relationship once again,” Luke is saying. “Maybe she is a bit tactless now and then. But she’s doing her best.”

Yeah, right, I want to say. She’s really trying hard with me.

Instead I give a tiny shrug and mumble, “I suppose so.”

Luke walks over and takes hold of my hand. “Come back upstairs. We’ll have another drink. Forget this ever happened.”

“No.” I exhale sharply. “I think I’ll… go home. You go. I’ll see you later.”

As I make my way home it starts to rain, big splashy drops that puddle in the gutters and drip off canopies. They spatter on my hot cheeks and wet my hair and make marks on my new suede-trimmed shoes. But I barely notice them. I’m still too wound up by the evening; by Elinor’s gimlet gaze; by my own humiliation; by my frustration with Luke.

The moment I get inside the apartment there’s a crack of thunder outside. I switch all the lights on and the television, and pick up the post. There’s an envelope from Mum and I open it first. A swatch of fabric falls out and a long letter smelling faintly of her perfume.