Sophie Kinsella: Shopaholic and sister

Oh, I’m not even going to bother explaining. Instead I gaze lustfully at the photograph of the bag. It’s made of soft, creamy tan calfskin, with a transparent resin handle and discreet zipper. But what makes it unique is the beautiful winged angel handpainted on the front, with the name Gabriel underneath in diamanté. There are six different angels: Gabriel, Michael, Dante, Raphael, Uriel, and Ariel. All the celebrities have been fighting over them, and Harrods is permanently sold out. HOLY PHENOMENON says the headline beside the picture.

I’m so engrossed, I barely hear Luke’s voice as he holds out another envelope.

“Ooze,” he seems to be saying.

“Sorry?” I look up in a daze.

“Here’s another letter,” he says patiently. “From Suze.”

“Suze?” I drop Vogue and grab it out of his hand. Suze is my best friend in the world. I have so missed her.

The envelope is all thick and creamy white and has a crest on the back with a Latin motto. I always forget how totally grand Suze is. When she sent us a Christmas card it was a picture of her husband Tarquin’s castle in Scotland with FROM THE CLEATH-STUART ESTATE printed inside. (Except you could hardly read it because her one-year-old, Ernie, had covered it with red and blue fingerpaints.)

I tear it open and a stiff card falls out.

“It’s an invitation!” I exclaim. “To the christening of the twins.”

I gaze at the formal, swirly engraving, feeling a slight pang. Wilfrid and Clementine Cleath-Stuart. Suze has had two more babies and I haven’t even seen them. They must be about two months old by now. I wonder what they look like. I wonder how Suze is doing. So much has been going on without us.

I turn the card over and see that Suze has scrawled a message.

I know you won’t be able to come, but thought you’d like it anyway… Hope you’re still having a wonderful time!All our love, SuzexxxPS Ernie loves his Chinese outfit, thank you so much!

“It’s in two weeks,” I say, showing Luke the card. “Shame, really. We won’t be able to go.”

“No,” agrees Luke. “We won’t.”

There’s a short silence. Then Luke meets my eye. “I mean… you’re not ready to go back yet, are you?” he says casually.

“No!” I say at once. “Of course not!”

We’ve been traveling for only ten months, and we planned to be away for at least a year. Plus, we’ve got the spirit of the road in our feet now. Maybe we’ll never be able to go back to normal life, like sailors who can’t go back and live on the land.

I put the invitation back in its envelope and take a sip of my drink. I wonder how Mum and Dad are. I haven’t heard much from them recently. In fact, the last time I called home, they both seemed a bit distracted. Mum hardly listened to my story about the elephant orphanage, and before I could ask Dad how he did in the golf tournament, he said he had to go.

And little Ernie will be walking by now. I’m his godmother and I’ve never even seen him walk.

Anyway. Never mind. I’m having amazing world experiences instead.

“We need to decide where to go next,” says Luke, leaning back on his elbows. “After we finish the yoga course. We were talking about Malaysia.”

“Yes,” I say, after a pause. It must be the heat or something, but I can’t actually get up much enthusiasm for Malaysia.

“Or back to Indonesia? Up to the northern bits?”

“Mmm,” I say noncommittally. “Oh look, a monkey.”

I cannot believe I’ve gotten so blasé about the sight of monkeys. The first time I saw those baboons in Kenya I was so excited I took about six rolls of film. Now it’s just, “Oh look, a monkey.”

“Or Nepal… or back to Thailand…”

“Or we could go back,” I hear myself saying out of nowhere.

How weird. I didn’t intend to say that. I mean, obviously we’re not going to go back yet. It hasn’t even been a year!

Luke sits up straight and looks at me.

“Back back?”

“No!” I say with a little laugh. “I’m just joking!” I hesitate. “Although…” There’s a still silence between us.

“Maybe… we don’t have to travel for a year,” I say tentatively. “If we don’t want to.”

Luke passes a hand through his hair, and the little beads on his plaits all click together.

“Are we ready to go back?” he says.

“I don’t know.” I feel a little thrill of trepidation. “Are we?”

I can hardly believe we’re even talking about going home. I mean, look at us! My hair’s all dry and sun-bleached, I’ve got henna on my feet, and I haven’t worn a proper pair of shoes for months.

An image comes to my mind of me walking down a London street in a coat and boots. Shiny high-heeled boots by L.K. Bennett. And a matching handbag.

Suddenly I feel a wave of longing so strong I almost want to cry.

“I think I’ve had enough of the world.” I look at Luke. “I’m ready for real life.”

“Me too.” Luke takes my hand and weaves his fingers between mine. “I’ve been ready for a while, actually.”

“You never said!” He seemed so into it! I’ve never had an inkling he’s been bored.

“I didn’t want to break up the party. But I’m certainly ready.”

“You would have kept traveling… just for me?” I say, touched.

“Well, it’s not exactly hardship.” Luke looks at me wryly. “We’re hardly roughing it, are we?”

I feel a slight flush come to my cheeks. When we set off on this trip, I told Luke I was determined we were going to be real travelers, like in The Beach, and sleep only in little huts.

That was before I’d spent a night in a little hut.

“So when we say ‘back’ ”—Luke pauses—“we are talking London?”

He looks at me questioningly.

Oh God. Finally, it’s decision time.

We’ve been talking for ten months about where we should live after the honeymoon. Before we got married, Luke and I were living in New York. And I loved it. But I kind of missed home, too. And now Luke’s U.K. business is expanding into more of Europe, and that’s where all the excitement is. So he’d like to go back to London, at least for a while.

Which is fine… except I won’t have a job. My old job was as a personal shopper at Barneys New York. And I adored it.

But never mind. I’m bound to find a new job. An even better one!

“London,” I say decisively, and look up. “So… can we be back in time for the christening?”

“If you like.” Luke smiles, and I feel a sudden leap of exhilaration. We’re going to the christening! I’m going to see Suze again! And my mum and dad! After nearly a year! They’ll all be so excited to see us. We’ll have so many stories to tell them!

I have a sudden vision of myself presiding over candlelit supper parties with all my friends gathered round, listening avidly to tales of faraway lands and exotic adventures. I’ll be just like Marco Polo or someone! Then I’ll open my trunk to reveal rare and precious treasures… everyone will gasp in admiration—

“We’d better let them know,” says Luke, getting up.

“No, wait,” I say, grabbing his trousers. “I’ve had an idea. Let’s surprise them! Let’s surprise everybody!”

“Surprise everybody?” Luke looks doubtful. “Becky, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’s a brilliant idea! Everyone loves a surprise!”

“But…”

“Everyone loves a surprise,” I repeat confidently. “Trust me.”

We walk back through the gardens to the main hotel — and I do feel a slight twinge at the thought of leaving. It’s so beautiful here. All teak bungalows and amazing birds everywhere, and if you follow the stream through the grounds, there’s a real waterfall! We pass the wood-carving center, where you can watch craftsmen at work, and I pause for a moment, inhaling the delicious scent of wood.