pleased to hear from me, even though she must be thinking, ‘Oh bloody hell, it’s the wife again.’
‘I’m good, thanks. And you?’
‘I’m very well. Can I put you through to Luke?’
‘Actually, Bonnie, it was you I wanted to speak to. I’m throwing Luke a …’ I pause and glance around in sudden paranoia, just in case Luke’s come back early from work to surprise me and is even now silently creeping up behind me on tiptoes, arms outstretched. But he’s not.
Huh. Why doesn’t he ever do that?
Just to be doubly sure, I go and shut the kitchen door and pull a chair across it. This is all so cloak and dagger. I feel like those French Resistance girls in ‘Allo ‘Allo!
‘Becky, are you still there?’ Bonnie’s saying. ‘Becky? Hello?’
‘Listen very carefully, I will say this only once.’ I whisper into the phone in sepulchral tones. ‘I’m throwing a surprise party for Luke’s birthday. It’s top secret and you’re only the seventh person in the world to know about it.’
I almost want to add, ‘And now I’ll have to shoot you.’
‘I’m sorry, Becky …’ Bonnie sounds confused. ‘I can’t hear you. Could you speak up?’
For God’s sake.
‘A party!’ I say more loudly. ‘I’m throwing Luke a party on the seventh of April. And I want it to be a surprise, so could you block off the date in his diary and make something up?’
‘The seventh of April.’ Bonnie sounds unruffled. ‘That should be simple enough.’
You see? This is why she’s a brilliant PA. She behaves as though she’s done this kind of thing a million times.
‘And I want to invite all his friends from work, so could they all block off their diaries too? But don’t make it look suspicious or anything. And don’t tell anyone what it’s about yet. Maybe you could say it’s a big fire practice? And you should have a decoy birthday card going around the office,’ I add as the thought suddenly crosses my mind. ‘You know, nearer the time. And if Luke ever mentions his birthday, which he won’t, but if he does , you should just say—’
‘Becky …’ Bonnie cuts me off kindly. ‘Should we perhaps meet to discuss all this?’
Result! As I put down the phone I’m beaming. Everything’s falling into place. Bonnie’s already offered to put together a guest list and we’re having lunch next week. Now I just have to decide on a party venue.
My gaze drifts outside. The garden would be perfect. But we’d never be able to keep it secret from Luke.
‘Have you heard the latest?’ Mum comes hurrying into
the kitchen, followed by Minnie. Her face is pink and she’s breathing fast. ‘It’s not just Bank of London! All the banks are like Swiss cheese! Full of holes! Have you heard, Graham?’ she adds agitatedly to Dad, who is just coming in. ‘The entire banking structure is going to collapse!’
‘It’s a bad business.’ Dad nods, flicking on the kettle.
I’ve stopped watching the news because it’s too depressing, but the Bank of London crisis is still going on like some kind of soap opera. Now they’ve stopped the cashpoints working and a few people have thrown stones at the windows. The Prime Minister appeared on the TV last night and told everyone to please stop taking their money out. But all that did was make everyone freak out even more. (I knew it would. Didn’t I say? They really should make me an adviser at Number 10.)
‘Luke says we won’t all lose our money,’ I venture.
‘Oh Luke does, does he?’ Mum bristles. ‘And would Luke like to tell us if any other financial institutions are about to fold? Or would that be too much trouble?’
She’s never going to forgive him, is she?
‘Mum,’ I say for the millionth time, ‘Luke couldn’t have told us. It was confidential and sensitive. And you would have told the whole of Oxshott!’
‘I would not have told the whole of Oxshott!’ she says sharply. ‘I would have warned Janice and Martin and a few other dear
‘I’m good, thanks. And you?’
‘I’m very well. Can I put you through to Luke?’
‘Actually, Bonnie, it was you I wanted to speak to. I’m throwing Luke a …’ I pause and glance around in sudden paranoia, just in case Luke’s come back early from work to surprise me and is even now silently creeping up behind me on tiptoes, arms outstretched. But he’s not.
Huh. Why doesn’t he ever do that?
Just to be doubly sure, I go and shut the kitchen door and pull a chair across it. This is all so cloak and dagger. I feel like those French Resistance girls in ‘Allo ‘Allo!
‘Becky, are you still there?’ Bonnie’s saying. ‘Becky? Hello?’
‘Listen very carefully, I will say this only once.’ I whisper into the phone in sepulchral tones. ‘I’m throwing a surprise party for Luke’s birthday. It’s top secret and you’re only the seventh person in the world to know about it.’
I almost want to add, ‘And now I’ll have to shoot you.’
‘I’m sorry, Becky …’ Bonnie sounds confused. ‘I can’t hear you. Could you speak up?’
For God’s sake.
‘A party!’ I say more loudly. ‘I’m throwing Luke a party on the seventh of April. And I want it to be a surprise, so could you block off the date in his diary and make something up?’
‘The seventh of April.’ Bonnie sounds unruffled. ‘That should be simple enough.’
You see? This is why she’s a brilliant PA. She behaves as though she’s done this kind of thing a million times.
‘And I want to invite all his friends from work, so could they all block off their diaries too? But don’t make it look suspicious or anything. And don’t tell anyone what it’s about yet. Maybe you could say it’s a big fire practice? And you should have a decoy birthday card going around the office,’ I add as the thought suddenly crosses my mind. ‘You know, nearer the time. And if Luke ever mentions his birthday, which he won’t, but if he does , you should just say—’
‘Becky …’ Bonnie cuts me off kindly. ‘Should we perhaps meet to discuss all this?’
Result! As I put down the phone I’m beaming. Everything’s falling into place. Bonnie’s already offered to put together a guest list and we’re having lunch next week. Now I just have to decide on a party venue.
My gaze drifts outside. The garden would be perfect. But we’d never be able to keep it secret from Luke.
‘Have you heard the latest?’ Mum comes hurrying into
the kitchen, followed by Minnie. Her face is pink and she’s breathing fast. ‘It’s not just Bank of London! All the banks are like Swiss cheese! Full of holes! Have you heard, Graham?’ she adds agitatedly to Dad, who is just coming in. ‘The entire banking structure is going to collapse!’
‘It’s a bad business.’ Dad nods, flicking on the kettle.
I’ve stopped watching the news because it’s too depressing, but the Bank of London crisis is still going on like some kind of soap opera. Now they’ve stopped the cashpoints working and a few people have thrown stones at the windows. The Prime Minister appeared on the TV last night and told everyone to please stop taking their money out. But all that did was make everyone freak out even more. (I knew it would. Didn’t I say? They really should make me an adviser at Number 10.)
‘Luke says we won’t all lose our money,’ I venture.
‘Oh Luke does, does he?’ Mum bristles. ‘And would Luke like to tell us if any other financial institutions are about to fold? Or would that be too much trouble?’
She’s never going to forgive him, is she?
‘Mum,’ I say for the millionth time, ‘Luke couldn’t have told us. It was confidential and sensitive. And you would have told the whole of Oxshott!’
‘I would not have told the whole of Oxshott!’ she says sharply. ‘I would have warned Janice and Martin and a few other dear
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