Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3)

Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3) Page 8

“Weren’t you?” I reply, trying to sound nonchalant. “Well… now you know!”

“Why don’t you want to get married for ten years?” says Danny.

“I… erm…” I clear my throat. “As it happens, I have a lot of things I want to do first. I want to concentrate on my career, and I want to… explore my full potential… and… get to know the real me first… and… be a whole… umm… rounded person.”

I tail off and meet Luke’s quizzical gaze slightly defiantly.

“I see,” he says, nodding. “Well, that sounds very sensible.” He looks at the cocktail shaker in his hand, then puts it down. “I’d better go and pack.”

He wasn’t supposed to agree with me.

Two

WE ARRIVE AT Heathrow at seven the next morning and pick up our rental car. As we drive along to Suze’s parents’ house in Hampshire, I peer blearily out of the window at the snowy countryside, the hedgerows and fields and little villages, as though I’ve never seen them before. After Manhattan, everything looks so tiny and pretty. For the first time I realize why Americans go around calling everything in England “quaint.”

“Which way now?” says Luke, as we arrive at yet another little crossroads.

“Erm, you definitely turn left here. I mean… right. No, I mean left.”

As the car swings round, I fish in my bag for the invitation, just to check the exact address.

Sir Gilbert and Lady Cleath-Stuart

request the pleasure of your company…

I stare, slightly mesmerized, at the grand swirly writing. God, I still can’t quite believe Suze and Tarquin are getting married.

I mean, of course I believe it. After all, they’ve been going out for well over a year now, and Tarquin’s basically moved into the flat I used to share with Suze — although they seem to be spending more and more time in Scotland. They’re both really sweet and laid back, and everyone’s agreed that they make a brilliant couple.

But just occasionally, when I’m not concentrating, my mind will suddenly yell, “Whaat? Suze and Tarquin?”

I mean, Tarquin used to be Suze’s weird geeky cousin. For years he was just that awkward guy in the corner with the ancient jacket and a tendency to hum Wagner in public places. He was the guy who rarely ventured beyond the safe haven of his Scottish castle — and when he did, it was to take me on the worst date of my life (although we don’t talk about that anymore).

But now he’s… well, he’s Suze’s boyfriend. Still slightly awkward, and still prone to wearing woolly jumpers knitted by his old nanny. Still a bit tatty round the edges. But Suze loves him, and that’s what counts.

Oh God, I can’t start crying yet. I have to pace myself.

“Harborough Hall,” reads Luke, pausing at a pair of crumbling stone pillars. “Is this it?”

“Erm…” I sniff, and try to look businesslike. “Yes, this is it. Just drive in.”

I’ve been to Suze’s house plenty of times before, but I always forget quite how impressive it is. We sweep down a great big long avenue lined with trees and into a circular gravel drive. The house is large and gray and ancient-looking, with pillars at the front and ivy growing over it.

“Nice house,” says Luke as we head toward the huge front door. “How old is it?”

“Dunno,” I say vaguely. “It’s been in their family for years.” I tug at the bell pull to see if by any remote chance it’s been mended — but it obviously hadn’t. I knock a couple of times with the heavy door knocker — and when there’s no answer to that either, I push my way into the huge flagstoned hall, where an old Labrador is asleep by a crackling fire.

“Hello?” I call. “Suze?”

Suddenly I notice that Suze’s father is also asleep by the fireplace, in a large winged armchair. I’m a bit scared of Suze’s father, actually. I certainly don’t want to wake him up.

“Suze?” I say, more quietly.

“Bex! I thought I heard something!”

I look up — and there’s Suze standing on the staircase, in a tartan dressing gown with her blond hair streaming down her back and a huge excited smile.

“Suze!”

I bound up the stairs and give her a huge hug. As I pull away we’re both a bit pink about the eyes, and I give a shaky laugh. God, I’ve missed Suze, even more than I’d realized.

“Come up to my room!” says Suze, tugging my hand. “Come and see my dress!”

“Is it really lovely?” I say excitedly. “In the picture it looked amazing.”