The Personal Shopper (Annie Valentine)

by Carmen Reid

‘We had lunch,’ Annie continued, ignoring as many of Connor’s remarks as she could. ‘Gray made seafood risotto with champagne. He cooked with the Taittinger!’

  Connor looked impressed.

  ‘Then we ate, and talked and drank the rest of the bottle.’

  ‘Aha . . .’ Connor prompted, scraping up the last mouthful of soup from the bottom of his bowl. ‘And then? Were you ready for some dental work? An intricate mouth examination?’

  Dinah dug her elbow into his ribs sharply.

  ‘We went to the sofa . . . Steady!’ Annie put her hand over her wine glass, so Connor couldn’t top it up any further. ‘And it got . . . nicely steamy,’ she decided on.

  She’d liked Gray’s kisses. His mouth was very clean and probing. The black leather sofa had been too slippery though. She’d kept having to put an arm down on the floor to keep them both from sliding right off and this had been distracting.

  His careful questioning – ‘Can I undo this? Would that be OK with you?’ – had been a mixture of charming and annoying.

  But the prospect of undoing his perfectly ironed black Hugo Boss shirt and running her tongue along the fragrant, freshly showered, tanned skin beneath had begun to make her feel pleasantly hot and bothered.

  Opening one button at a time, she’d discovered that his nipples were small and his chest smooth and hairless.

  ‘And did ya?’ Connor asked.

  ‘Kinda,’ Annie replied.

  ‘Oh, no, the Viagra didn’t let him down again, did it?’ Connor cut to the chase.

  ‘No!’ Annie insisted. Lowering her voice, she added, ‘They’ve worked out a new dose for him at the hospital, one which won’t make him dizzy . . . and believe me, it’s quite impressive.’

  ‘Oh yeah!’ Connor encouraged.

  ‘Like a ramrod,’ Annie added.

  ‘You lucky girl! Maybe you should introduce us,’ Connor couldn’t help himself.

  There was a pause and even Dinah had to admit to herself she was quite interested in hearing the rest now.

  ‘Well . . . were you ramrodded?’ Connor asked with a wicked grin. ‘Brace yourself, Annie, I’m a dentist. Brace yourself . . . geddit?’

  ‘Oh ha ha,’ came from Dinah.

  ‘Er . . . no. It was all a bit too much, too soon. I ducked out,’ Annie confessed.

  Did she want Connor to know the nitty-gritty? That making use of the shiny sofa surface, she’d slid herself out of Gray’s heated kissing and easily towards his navel.

  ‘You went oral on the dentist, didn’t you?’ came Connor’s merciless question.

  ‘I’m not answering,’ she told him.

  ‘Did he ask you to open wide? And try not to swallow?’ he teased, paying no attention to the waiter who was dumping their main courses in front of them now.

  ‘I’m not answering!’ she told him.

  ‘Stop it, Connor,’ Dinah warned.

  ‘It’s been a little confusing,’ Annie confided. ‘There I was, convinced I was desperate to have sex with the guy . . . desperate to have sex full stop . . . And when it came down to it . . . well . . . it was too big a step to take all at once.’

  ‘How did he react?’ Dinah asked.

  ‘He was fine. Charming . . . very grateful,’ Annie told them.

  ‘I bet he was,’ said Connor, and Annie’s cheeky smile returned. ‘And afterwards?’ he prompted.

  ‘It was very comfortable. We snuggled on the sofa, cuddled up and we were able to talk about things. He’s really nice, you know. I wish you two would give him a break. He said he really missed having a wife.’

  ‘His wife?’ Dinah checked.

  ‘No. A wife.’

  Annie had asked Gray the same question. ‘No, definitely not missing my wife,’ he’d told her. ‘She was . . . difficult to live with. But someone to come home to, someone to share even the very small things with – I miss that.’

  His fingers had found hers and he’d squeezed her hand tightly.

  ‘I miss that too,’ she’d told him. ‘Obviously I have the children, and they’re fantastic . . . don’t know what I’d do without them, but being part of a couple, sharing your life . . . it’s very special,’ she’d said, feeling slightly nervous that she’d overexposed herself, overstepped a line.

  But Gray had just nodded and squeezed her hand again.

  ‘We got into his rooftop jacuzzi,’ she told Connor and Dinah.

  ‘Nice. Very nice,’ said Dinah. ‘Left the ornaments in peace this time.’

  ‘Naked or costumes?’ Connor asked.

  ‘Costumes. I told you, he’s very gentlemanly and very proper.’

  ‘Then he drove me home, but we made a bit of a detour via the shops.’

  ‘Mmmm, this sounds good,’ was Connor’s comment.

  ‘Aha – it was good,’ Annie agreed. ‘He bought me a very nice pair of shoes.’

  ‘Show,’ said Dinah.

  This was easy, Annie just lifted a foot up into the air. All her waking hours since Sunday had been spent with her feet in these adorable pointy pumps; palest biscuity gold leather with just a hint of glitter to them. She gazed at them fondly. They were just so pretty: girlish, ready to party, light-hearted and Gray had been very good at shoe-shopping. He seemed to understand why shoes were such a tonic: because you were never too fat for shoes . . . you’d never crept up a size without noticing. They were the perfect present to yourself, they came in a box, wrapped in tissue paper, all pristine and unbroken.

  ‘Look and be jealous, Dinah,’ said Connor, stroking the shoe. ‘Bryan could really learn from this man.’

  ‘How?’ Dinah asked a little sharply.

  ‘He’d get so much more sex if he took you out shopping afterwards, wouldn’t he? For Miu Miu, you’d probably do some very filthy things.’

  ‘Bryan doesn’t need to buy me anything,’ Dinah huffed, but quickly followed it with, ‘But if Gray wants to treat Annie, that’s lovely. Now we’re asking you about your sex life,’ she told him ‘And you will not be spared.’

  Connor looked at them in a seriously unusual, blissed-out kind of way, then tugged up his white T-shirt. Right across his rippling stomach from hip-bone to armpit was a fine red line – intermittent, as if caused by a slim chain rather than a cord. There were also deep red pinch marks on either side of his rosy nipples and a brand new raw-looking metal stud in his navel.

  ‘It’s love, definitely love,’ Connor said. ‘Where would you like me to start?’

  Dinah let out a little scream before saying, ‘It’s OK, we’re fine. Really.’

  Connor got hold of his wine glass and held it up, Dinah did likewise, then Annie too.

  ‘To falling in love,’ Connor offered.

  Annie was sitting, feet up, on the big sofa holding a vast bowl of popcorn, with Owen curled up on one side of her and Lana on the other. The two takeaway pizza boxes were on the floor in front of them and all three were in their pyjamas, because it was Tuesday night, DVD night. Whenever possible on Tuesdays, the three of them snuggled up together for a pizza and an evening of giggling through something as hilarious as Blockbuster had to offer.

  When the phone began to ring, Annie leaned forward, but Lana instructed her: ‘Leave it to the answering machine. This is a really good bit, I don’t want to pause it.’

  ‘No, you don’t have to,’ Annie insisted. ‘But I think I better—’

  ‘Muuuum,’ Lana complained. ‘Don’t! I’ll have to move my feet, I’ll get all uncomfortable.’

  ‘Lana!’ Annie stood up, pushing Lana’s legs away from her lap. ‘I won’t be long.’

  Lana didn’t make any reply, Owen stayed glued to the screen, so Annie hurried out of the room to take the call in her bedroom before it was too late.

  ‘Hello there, lovely to hear your voice . . .’

  When Annie heard those words, she was delighted to have guessed correctly: it was Gray calling.

  She lay back on her bed to enjoy the chat, listening with interest to what had been going on in
the Holden dental world today.

  After she’d imparted her news, they began to plan their next meeting.

  ‘I’d like to see a lot more of you,’ Gray purred. ‘A lot, lot more.’

  Annie’s attention was distracted by Lana coming into the room.

  ‘Are you on your own?’ Gray was asking.

  ‘No, not any more.’

  ‘Now that is a shame,’ came his reply. ‘I was wanting to have a private chat with you . . . very private.’

  No mistaking the sauciness in his voice. That kind of phone call . . .

  ‘Sounds very interesting,’ she told him, ‘I think I’m definitely going to phone you back later.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

  ‘Bye for now.’

  ‘Bye.’

  ‘How’s your auction website going these days?’ Annie asked Lana, who was still hovering by the door, neutral questions were best when Lana was sulky.

  ‘Great, you should check it out some time, there’s stuff even you’d consider buying,’ came the offhand reply. ‘That was the dentist, wasn’t it?’ Lana said next, throwing herself over the available space on her mother’s silky lilac bed.

  ‘It was Gray, yes, Lana,’ Annie said pointedly and smoothed her hand over the head that was now lying level with her elbow.

  Lana gave a deep sigh and told her: ‘I don’t like your boyfriend. But I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.’

  ‘Well, that’s very kind of you. I’m trying to do the same for your boyfriend.’ Annie tried to leave it there, but then several moments later felt the irritated need to ask: ‘What don’t you like about Gray?’

  ‘Well, his name for a start,’ Lana told her. ‘You do know he’s called Gary really, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh.’ No! Much as she’d suspected Gray was too exotic, too suave to be a real first name, she hadn’t suspected quite so mundane a reality. Gary??!

  ‘How do you know?’ Annie wondered, a little suspicious that Lana had made this up just as a strike against Gray.

  ‘Gran told me.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘When I asked her.’

  Hmmm. Annie would check with Fern. Find out her source. Maybe it was a guess.

  ‘Gary is just a bit full of himself, don’t you think?’ Lana added, scratching one bare foot with the black painted toenails of the other.

  ‘He’s a successful man. He’s proud of himself and he has a certain confidence,’ Annie told her. ‘Don’t say “full of himself” because that sounds nasty and really, I think he’s pretty nice.’

  Lana’s sulky response was the inevitable: ‘He’s not the same as Dad though, is he?’

  ‘No,’ Annie told her gently. ‘But your dad isn’t exactly here right now, is he? So you’ve got to give someone else, someone like Gray, a bit of a chance. Please?’

  This almost made Lana smile.

  ‘I think we could all be happy with someone who is nice and caring, and who could look after us all. Someone who’d make me feel a lot less worried . . .’

  ‘Someone rich,’ Lana interpreted.

  Annie turned to her daughter so she could speak to her eye to eye: ‘You know, that’s another nasty thing to say, Lana. Do you honestly think the only thing that interests me about Gray is his money?’

  ‘I can’t see what else there is.’ Lana was definitely sulking now, her arms were crossed so tightly over her black vest top that her many silver wrist chains and bangles must have been digging into her skin.

  ‘He’s handsome, he’s caring, he’s interesting. I like to talk to him. He’s got really good taste. We have lots of things in common.’ None of this was convincing Lana, who was staring straight ahead over her crossed arms now.

  ‘I don’t know . . . He makes me feel interesting too . . . appreciated . . .’ Annie said with some exasperation. ‘Unlike some people I could mention,’ came the little dig.

  ‘He’s so old!’ came Lana’s scornful response. ‘And it doesn’t exactly sound like mad passionate love.’

  ‘No. It’s not!’ Annie was trying not to raise her voice. ‘I’m not expecting that. I’d be happy with something a bit more comfortable and companionable.’

  ‘You still have to sleep with him though,’ came Lana’s retort. ‘Wonder if he’ll take his wig off. Have you had sex with him yet?’

  Annie felt a surprisingly powerful flash of anger at this and snapped back: ‘He doesn’t have a wig! And how would you feel if I asked you a question like that?’

  She regretted it immediately. This wasn’t the way she’d rehearsed the close and confiding mother and daughter chat she’d been mentally preparing for, ever since Seth had come onto the scene.

  Lana offered a scornful scowl in response to this.

  ‘Look,’ Annie began, trying to find the reasonable, friendly voice she knew she should be using: ‘I haven’t slept with Gray. But if I do, it will be for all the right reasons.’

  ‘Ditto,’ Lana said.

  ‘Fourteen is too young for sex, Lana.’ Annie tried to keep her tone friendly and encouraging. She couldn’t believe that she was already discussing the very real possibility of her little girl . . . well, they’d had all sorts of sex talks before in the past, but they’d been so much more abstract. Much easier to deal with. Annie was trying to reason with her instinctive desire to shout out: No! Don’t do this. It’s too soon, for you and for me.

  ‘Did I ask you for advice?’

  The pale little face beside her was pointy, facing away and closed off from her for the moment.

  ‘I’d be so happy if you came to me for advice, Lana. And I will try to be as open-minded about it as I can be,’ Annie told her as calmly as she could. She felt as if she’d just aged about five years.

  After a burning silence, Lana decided to air a different sore point: ‘Why do we have to sell this flat, Mum? I don’t want to move again. I don’t want to be living in some grotty dump all over again with rotten carpets and a hideous toilet and a horrible bedroom. I don’t want to do it. And this isn’t just any old flat! This was our home with Dad!’ she burst out. ‘Doesn’t that mean anything to you?! Don’t you think me and Owen might like to stay in our family home? All you can think about is yourself and how to earn more money for yourself.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s very fair, Lana,’ Annie warned, ‘I have to look after you both on my own and that’s very expensive.’

  ‘Yeah well, but you’re very expensive too.’ With that Lana got up, flung open the white door of Annie’s fitted wardrobe and pushed all the clothes on the rail over to one side.

  ‘Lana!’ Annie’s warning not to go any further was clear now, but Lana began flicking through the hangers one by one.

  ‘Gucci!’ she read from the label of the first top. ‘Valentino, Nicole Farhi, Paul Smith, Westwood, Diane Von Furstenberg, McQueen, Farhi, Smith, Smith, Westwood, Whistles, Karen Millen – you were slumming it that week – and back to Gucci. My God, this one’s Chanel! Do I have to go on or do you get my point?’

  ‘Lana!’ Annie could barely contain her fury at this little lecture: ‘You know how hard I work and you know where I work. You know perfectly well I get a great deal on all the clothes I buy and that I have to dress really smartly for The Store. Yes, we might have to sell the flat, just to be practical, just to make sure there’s plenty of money in the bank to pay for the great school I send you to, which you are so determined to annoy all the time. You know what? Maybe one of these days you should try working hard too. No-one’s going to give you great exam results because you’re cool, Lana! No-one’s going to give you a great job because you were one of the school rebels! You get out what you put in, Lana, and maybe it’s about time you understood that!’

  A furious ‘Huh!’ came back from Lana. ‘And I suppose you’re planning to solve all your problems by marrying Mr Rich Dentist, are you?’

  ‘Shut up, Lana!’ Annie shot back. ‘I’ve been on some dates with Gray and I like him. Who said anything
about him being rich? Because I haven’t asked to see his bank accounts . . . And who has said one word about marriage? Don’t you think that maybe you’re being really rude?’

  ‘I’m not moving out of here!’ Lana shouted at her. ‘You can’t make me. I am not leaving this flat and that is final. I’d rather leave school!’

  ‘Oh, you would, would you? Well, that’s fine, tomorrow morning I’ll take you along to . . .’ Annie shoved in the name of the worst comprehensive in the area she could think of and watched for her daughter’s reaction.

  ‘Yes, that will be fine. Suzie’s boyfriend goes there and he says it’s cool.’

  ‘Enough about cool,’ Annie practically shrieked. ‘No-one cares what’s cool. No-one gives a . . . a . . .’

  But Lana stormed to the bedroom door, slammed it shut behind her and shouted: ‘I’m getting out of here!’

  Annie stayed on her bed, heart pounding.

  Twenty minutes or so later, when a bit of vigorous nail filing had calmed her down slightly, she decided to go out of the bedroom to see what was happening.

  In the sitting room, Owen had turned off the TV, tidied away the pizza and popcorn debris and was reading on the sofa.

  ‘Hey, Owen,’ she ran her fingers over his hair, ‘you’re a star for clearing up. I’m really sorry about all that. I’m sorry. We spoiled the film, we spoiled the evening . . . and we shouldn’t have done all that shouting.’

  ‘I know,’ Owen said. He didn’t look up from his book. ‘Mum?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Did you know that jellyfish have been on the planet for five hundred and thirty million years?’

  ‘Well, babes, that could be because you can’t eat them, you can’t burn them, you can’t wear them and you definitely can’t make them into shoes. Is Lana in her room?’

  ‘No. She went out,’ came the reply.

  ‘What?! Out of the flat?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘When?!’

  ‘Not long after the fight.’

  ‘Did she say where she was going?’

  ‘She didn’t say anything.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘You sounded scary,’ was Owen’s answer to this and now Annie felt like the worst parent in the world.