How Not To Shop

by Carmen Reid

  'See,' the barman winked again, 'a fine-looking woman like yersel will hae another one already lined up!'

  She took the phone out and saw the text: 'Where u?' from Bob.

  'In bar opp hotel been fired,' she texted back, sure that would get a good response.

  It was just seconds before, 'coming' appeared on her screen.

  Ah well, the phone calls to Ed and to Connor would have to wait just a little bit longer.

  Bob arrived minutes later with, to Annie's surprise, Svetlana in tow.

  'Annah! This is terrible!' Svetlana gushed as soon as she set eyes on her. 'Terrible! Terrible! I go to tell Finn right now that I don't vork on this stupid show unless you vork on it too!'

  Which was very touching. It really was very kind.

  'I don't think it will help,' Annie told her. 'He's got no money. He's just trying to save it in every direction.'

  'He's slashed my daily rate,' Bob added gloomily.

  'It's terrible,' Svetlana repeated.

  'He's not even booked me into the hotel, I'll have to get back onto the train, if they let me use my ticket.'

  'It's an APEX, you'll have to pay extra,' Bob warned her.

  'No, no, Annah,' Svetlana shook her head decisively. 'I buy you hotel room. Now you have drink with us, then you rest and take train home tomorrow.'

  For a moment, Annie laid her head gratefully on Svetlana's Yves Saint Laurent clad shoulder.

  'Poor Annah,' Svetlana soothed, then she clicked open her python clutch and brought out a platinum Amex card.

  Waving the card in the air, she summoned the barman.

  'Champagne on ice,' she instructed.

  Annie was more than a little the worse for wear when she finally made it to her room and thought to call home.

  'Hello babesh,' she slurred when she heard Ed's voice on the other end of the line.

  'Hello? Is that you?' he asked, then added, 'Been living it up in TV land, have we?'

  'No, not at all, been fired,' she said baldly.

  'Fired?' he replied. 'Fired?' he repeated. Then to her surprise he said, 'Annie, just give me a minute,' and he seemed to step away from the phone.

  'Ed?' Annie asked. 'ED! I've been fired!' she said much more loudly now.

  Then she listened. Was that barking she could hear in the background?

  'Hi!' Ed was back on the phone.

  'What's that barking?' she asked.

  'Erm . . . yes. Some dog outside,' came his reply. 'Fired?' he repeated, 'are you serious? You're not joking me here. You've been fired?'

  'I am no longer a Vonder Voman,' Annie said, making herself giggle.

  'But don't you have a contract?' Ed asked.

  'Yes, but apparently it's not a good one. Not watertight like Miss Marlise's. Apparently.'

  'Good grief . . .' Ed began, but then she was sure she heard him hiss: 'Down!'

  'Down?' she asked.

  But he ignored this and asked anxiously, 'Are you OK? Where are you staying? Is there someone with you?'

  'I'm in a hotel, I'm fine. I love you,' she told him, deciding right there and then that she would take everything back to Mango and buy him helicopter flying lessons for his birthday.

  'Yes, yes, I love you too,' he replied, 'but why I am now babysitting a teenager who only wants to go clubbing with a twenty-two-year-old supermodel, I do not know.'

  'Oh God! Is Lana all right? I have to come home!' Annie exclaimed.

  'She's fine, she's in her bedroom studying. Elena went out on her own . . . looking terrifying,' Ed added.

  'Are you sure Lana's there?' Annie almost screeched, remembering how often she'd stuffed her bed with pillows and crept out of the back door.

  'I will go and double-check,' Ed assured her. 'Please go to bed,' he added, 'We'll talk this all through in the morning.'

  'Night-night, babes, I love you,' she repeated.

  'Me too,' Ed added.

  Then came another sharp bark before Ed hung up abruptly. Annie looked at her phone in surprise, as if it had barked by itself.

  It was 11.45 p.m. . . . possibly a good time to make a little transatlantic phone call to the other adorable man in her life.

  'Hello doll face,' were the words Annie used to greet Connor.

  'Hello baby,' he replied, 'I'm still on my bike.'

  'Guess what? I got fired,' Annie told him, then suddenly had to laugh at everything that had happened that day.

  'No!' Connor protested, 'You didn't!'

  After the surprise had registered, Connor listened to the whole story. Then took a deep breath and began to issue rapid instructions.

  'OK baby, here's what you do,' he began. 'You need damage limitation and to enhance that reputation. With my help, you are going to approach this totally LA style. Now, first thing tomorrow, you will phone this number. Write it down, babes, write it down.

  'Got it? OK, that's the number of the TV gossip columnist on Screentalk. You tell her hello from Connor, and you're his friend Annie Valentine. You've been shooting Wonder Women and . . . let me think . . . let me think . . . what's the most positive spin we can put on this . . . you've decided to leave the show because . . . ?'

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Fern does smart casual:

  Beige wool trousers (Paul Costello)

  Oyster silk blouse (M&S)

  Salmon cashmere sweater (M&S)

  Comfortable loafers (Ecco)

  Total est. cost: £270

  'Come and see me!'

  It was nearly 5 p.m. when Annie finally arrived at her front door. She'd spent much of the train journey from Glasgow asleep, trying to escape from the throbbing headache and dry scratchy eyes and throat which were proof – as if she needed it – that she'd drunk too much and cried too much the night before.

  Slotting her key into the lock, she was astonished by a volley of short, yappy barks. She thought she must be hearing things and looked out across the garden and back to the pavement to see if she could spot the dog. Nothing. No dog.

  She pushed open her front door, stepped over the threshold, called out her usual, 'Helloooo! I'm home,' and was hit full on the legs by a whirling, springy ball of yapping fur.

  'Aaaargh!' she exclaimed in fright.

  What was this thing?

  'Annie darling!'

  That was her mother's voice.

  'Why on earth have you got a dog, Mum?' Annie shouted from the hallway, trying to detach the ball of fluff from her legs.

  'Down!' Annie ordered the dog, but it didn't pay any attention, it kept jumping, barking and trying to nip at her fingers.

  Owen was now bounding down the stairs towards her. 'Isn't he great?' Owen enthused with a beaming smile.

  'Lovely,' Annie said and bundled Owen up in a hug before he wriggled out and turned his attention to the dog.

  'He's from a dogs' home and he's deaf so you have to communicate in doggy sign language.' Owen proceeded to hold out his hand, palm flat to the floor.

  'This is the sign for sit,' he told his mum.

  The dog kept bouncing up and down and yapping.

  'I don't think anyone's told him,' Annie pointed out.

  'Dave, Dave!' Owen called, clapping as he said the dog's name.

  'Dave?' Annie asked, 'is that his name?'

  'It's a nice name,' Owen insisted, crouching right down in front of the dog. As soon as it saw him on his knees, the hairy little mutt bounced right into his lap, knocking him onto his back. Then, while Owen giggled hilariously, the dog began to lick all over his face and mouth.

  'Eeeeeugh! Owen, not on your face! No, Owen!' was Annie's horrified reaction, though she still had to smile at the obvious enthusiasm dog and boy had for each other.

  'Annie.' Ed was in the hallway now, 'hello!'

  He held out his arms and folded her up in them.

  'I have a headache,' she said, resting her forehead on his woolly shoulder.

  'Yeah,' he said, patting her gently on the head. 'So you've met Dave then?' he asked.
>
  'Yes.'

  'So, what do you think about him?'

  'He's totally disgusting, but Owen seems to like him,' was her reply.

  Ed put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her gently back so he could look her in the face. With concern, he began: 'Are you really OK about it? I thought you'd be much more . . .'

  'Am I OK about it?' she repeated with surprise. 'I've been sacked, I'm completely hungover, I've been on a train living off salt and vinegar crisps for six hours. I'm not in the mood to be OK about anything!' she exclaimed. 'But I'm trying to get used to the idea.'

  'Oh, poor Annie,' he sympathized, pulling her in to his shoulder again, 'I think it's going to be fine . . . I think it's all going to work out somehow.'

  'Annie!' Fern called out from the sitting room, 'come and see me!'

  'I didn't know Mum was coming to visit us,' Annie whispered to Ed.

  'She arrived an hour ago. She thought it was my birthday today and she said that she wanted to give us all a surprise.'

  'Really? She just turned up without phoning or anything?' Annie asked. This was unusual. Fern wasn't really a surprise kind of person, she liked to plan and organize in advance.

  'Yes,' Ed confirmed.

  'Well, that is a bit strange. Can she stay the night? So we can keep an eye on her.'

  'Yes, I think she'll be fine with that. She's OK, Annie,' Ed added, 'she just seems a bit forgetful.'

  'Annie!' Fern shouted again.

  'I'm coming, Mum!'

  'Where are the girls?' Annie asked Ed, assuming that Lana and Elena were out.

  'They've gone to the shops together to get some things.'

  'Together?'

  'Well, I've let Lana go out and meet Elena in a café, but she's promised to be home by seven for supper,' Ed said with a sigh. 'Lana is besotted. There is no other word.'

  'Oh boy.'

  Annie set her bag down in the hall and went into the sitting room to see her mum.

  'Hey you!' she said, greeting her with a big hug, 'what's up, then? Ed says you've gone round the bend.'

  'I have, darlin', there's no other word for it,' Fern replied but with a smile.

  'You look all right,' Annie told her and this was true. Fern had dressed smartly for the surprise visit in a pastel pink skirt suit with her hair freshly blow-dried and her make-up carefully applied.

  'I look fine,' Fern assured her.

  'What's the matter then?' Annie asked, sitting down beside her on the sofa.

  'There are just these blanks in my day when I know I've been somewhere, or done something, or I know I should have done something . . . but I have absolutely no idea what it was,' Fern explained, her brow creasing with concern.

  'Isn't that normal, Mum?' Annie asked, patting her reassuringly on the arm. 'Aren't those just senior moments? They're coming to us all. I'm always running up the stairs to get something and by the time I'm at the top, I've completely forgotten what the hell it was.'

  'I don't know . . .' Fern began.

  'Have you told your doctor?' Annie wondered. 'Have you talked it over with him? Maybe it's something to do with the pills you're taking for the high blood pressure.'

  'He's away,' Fern said thoughtfully. 'I thought I'd better go and see him when he gets back next week.'

  'Yeah,' Annie agreed, 'I can come with you, if you like. Or maybe Dinah.'

  'Is Dinah going to come over tonight?' Fern asked brightly.

  'I don't know. I'm seeing her tomorrow, so why don't we get her to come round then if she can't make it tonight. You'll stay, won't you? Stay for a few days? Just so that we can keep an eye on you, make sure you're OK.'

  'Yes,' Fern smiled, 'I'll stay.'

  Just then Ed came into the room with a glass of orange juice in one hand and a gin and tonic in the other.

  'I presumed you'd be detoxing,' he said to Annie with a smile as he handed Fern the gin and tonic.

  'You know me so well,' she smiled back, gratefully accepting the orange juice.

  Owen followed Ed in, carrying the little dog. It had calmed down now and seemed to be accepting the lift quite peacefully. Annie looked at it with distaste again. It was one of those wiry-coated, fuzzy brown things. A border terrier? But its legs seemed too long. Well, what had Owen said? It was a rescue dog, it was probably some cross of several different breeds. A right little mutt.

  When had her mum ever said anything about wanting a dog? And why would she want a scrubby little dog like that?

  'What on earth made you get the dog, Mum?' Annie asked, with a roll of her eyes. 'Now that really was flipping madness!'

  'What dog?' Fern asked, looking at her with round eyes.

  Annie nearly gasped with shock. Her mum had forgotten the dog? She must be bad! Really bad. What was the term? Dementing?

  'The dog,' Annie repeated, then pointed at the little mutt in Owen's arms, 'What made you decide to get him?'

  Now everyone in the room was looking astonished. Owen's mouth made a little O of surprise.

  'That is a dog, isn't it?' Annie asked, 'I'm not seeing things?'

  'Dave isn't Granny's. He's ours!' Owen said, his arms fiercely protective around the creature.

  For a long moment there was silence. Annie was too shocked to even form the word What?!

  'Dave's our dog,' Owen repeated, 'Aren't cha, boy?' he rubbed the dog's head vigorously and the dog responded by licking his hand.

  'Ed!' Annie exclaimed, glaring over at him, 'why didn't you? . . . Why didn't we? . . . You've not said one, single word . . .'

  'I thought you just said you were OK with it,' Ed said in his defence.

  'OK with it?!' Annie repeated, 'I thought he was Mum's!'

  'I've been trying to mention the idea . . .' Ed began.

  'Well you can't have tried very hard,' she hissed, desperately wanting to shout but feeling restrained by the presence of both her mum and her clearly dog-devoted son. 'An ugly, deaf, rescue dog?' she exclaimed. 'Is this your idea of a joke? Or maybe this is your idea of a substitute? Your substitute for a you-know-what?'

  'Oh dear,' Owen said into the expectant pause that followed this remark.

  'I'm sorry . . . sorry. I shouldn't be saying any of this in front of you,' Annie muttered.

  'No. Oh dear – I've just stood in a puddle,' Owen admitted and held out his wet, dog-wee-soaked sock for everyone to see.

  Chapter Twenty-eight