Sophie Kinsella: The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic

'Yes,' I say defiantly. 'Very.'

God she's a cow.

'I've just had John from Flagstaff on the phone,' adds Alicia to Luke in lowered voice. 'He was very keen that you should mention the new Foresight Savings Series. Obviously, I told him-'

'This is a damage limitation exercise,' says Luke curtly. 'Not a bloody plug-fest. He'll be bloody lucky if he…' He glances at me and I look away as though I'm not remotely interested in what he's talking about. Casually I glance at my watch and feel a leap of fright as I see the time. Ten minutes. Ten minutes to go.

'OK,' says Zelda, coming into the room. 'Elisabeth, we're ready for you.'

'Marvellous,' says Elisabeth, taking a last mouthful of pain au chocolat. 'Now, I do look all right, don't I?'

She stands up and a shower of crumbs falls off her skirt.

'You've got a piece of croissant in your hair,' says Zelda, reaching up and removing it. 'Other than that what can I say?' She catches my eye and I have a hysterical desire to giggle.

'Luke!' says the baby-faced guy, rushing in with a mobile phone. 'John Bateson on the line for you. And a couple of packages have arrived…'

'Thanks, Tim,' says Alicia, taking the packages and ripping them open. She pulls out a bunch of papers and begins scanning them quickly, marking things every so often in pencil. Meanwhile, Tim sits down, opens a laptop computer and starts typing.

'Yes, John, I do see your bloody point,' Luke's saying in a low, tight voice. 'But if you would listen to me for just one moment-'

'Tim,' says Alicia, looking up. 'Can you quickly check the return on the Flagstaff Premium Pension over the last three, five and ten?'

'Absolutely,' says Tim, and starts tapping at his computer.’

'Tim,' says Luke, looking up from the phone. 'Can you print out the Flagstaff Foresight draft press release for me ASAP? Thanks.'

I can't quite believe what I'm seeing. They've practically set up an office, here in the Morning Coffee green room. An entire office of Brandon Communications staff complete with computers and modems and phones… pitted against me and my crumpled piece of A4.

As I watch Tim's laptop efficiently spewing out pages, and Alicia handing sheets of paper to Luke, a cold feeling starts to creep over me. I mean, let's face it. I'll never beat this lot, will I? I haven't got a chance. I should just give up now. Tell them I'm ill or something. Run home and hide under my duvet.

'OK, everyone?' says Zelda, poking her head round the door. 'On in seven minutes.'

'Fine,' says Luke.

'Fine,' I echo in a wobbly voice.

'Oh, and Rebecca, there's a package for you,' says Zelda. She comes into the room and hands me a large, square box. 'I'll be back in a minute.'

'Thanks, Zelda,' I say in surprise and, with a sudden lift of spirits, begin to rip the box open. I've no idea what it is or who it's from – but it's got to be something helpful, hasn't it? Special last-minute information from Eric Foreman, maybe. A graph, or a series of figures that I can produce at the crucial moment. Or some secret document that Luke doesn't know about.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see that all the Brandonites have stopped what they're doing, and are watching, too. Well, that'll show them. They're not the only ones to get packages delivered to the green room. They're not the only ones to have resources. Finally I get the sticky tape undone and open the flaps of the box. And as everyone watches, a big red helium balloon, with GOOD LUCK emblazoned across it, floats up to the ceiling. There's a card attached to the string, and, without looking anyone in the eye, I rip it open. Immediately, I wish I hadn't.

'Good luck to you, good luck to you, whatever you're about to do,' sings a tinny electronic voice.

I slam the card shut and feel my cheeks flame red.

God, how embarrassing. From the other side of the room I can hear little sniggers, and I look up to see Alicia smirking. She whispers something into Luke's ear, and an amused expression spreads across his face. He's laughing at me. They're all laughing at Rebecca Bloomwood and her singing balloon. For a few moments I can't move for mortification. My face is hot; my throat feels tight; I've never felt less like a leading industry expert in my life.

Then, on the other side of the room, I hear Alicia murmur some malicious little comment and give a snort of laughter – and deep inside me, something snaps. Sod them, I think suddenly. Sod them all. They're probably only jealous, anyway. They wish they had balloons, too.

Defiantly, I open the card again to read the message.

'No matter if it rain or shine, we all know that you'll be fine,' sings the card's tinny voice at once. 'Hold your head up, keep it high – all that matters is you try.'

To Becky, I read. With love and thanks for all your wonderful help. We're so proud to know you. From your friends Janice and Martin.

I stare down at the card, reading the words over and over, and feel my eyes grow foolishly hot. Janice and Martin have been good friends over the years – even if their son is a bit of a prat. They've always been kind to me, even when I gave them such disastrous advice. I owe this to them. And I'm bloody well not going to let them down.

I blink a few times, take a deep breath and look up to see Luke Brandon gazing at me, his eyes dark and expressionless.

'Friends,' I say coolly. 'Sending me their-good wishes.'

Carefully I place the card on the coffee table, making sure it stays open so it'll keep singing, then pull my balloon down from the ceiling and tie it to the back of my chair.

'OK,' comes Zelda's voice from the door. 'Luke and Rebecca. Are you ready?'

'Couldn't be readier,' I say calmly, and walk past Luke to the door.

As we stride along the corridors to the set, neither Luke nor I say a word. I dart a glance at him as we turn a corner – and his face is even steelier than it was in the green room.

Well, that's fine. I can do steely, too. I can do hard and businesslike. Firmly I lift my chin and begin to take longer strides, pretending to be Alexis Carrington in Dynasty.

'So, do you two already know each other?' says Zelda, who's walking along between us.

'We do, as it happens,' says Luke shortly.

'In a business context,' I say, equally shortly. 'Luke's always trying to promote some pathetic financial product or other. And I'm always trying to avoid his calls.'

Zelda gives an appreciative laugh and I see Luke's eyes flash angrily. But I really don't care. I don't care how angry he gets. In fact, the angrier he gets, the better I feel.

'So – Luke, you must have been quite pissed off at Rebecca's article in the Daily World,' says Zelda.

'I wasn't pleased,' says Luke.

'He phoned me up to complain, can you believe it?' I say airily. 'Can't cope with the truth, eh Luke? Can't cope with seeing what's under the PR gloss? You know, perhaps you should change jobs.'

There's silence and I turn to look at Luke. He looks so furious, I think for a terrifying moment that he's going to hit me. Then his face changes and in an icily calm voice, he says,

'Let's just get on the fucking set and get this little charade over with, shall we?'

Zelda raises her eyebrows at me and I grin back. I've never seen Luke so rattled before.

'OK,' says Zelda as we approach a set of double swing doors. 'Here we are. Keep your voices down when we go in.'

She pushes open the doors and ushers us in, and for a moment my cool act falters. I feel all shaky and awed, like Laura Dern in Jurassic Park when she saw the dinosaurs for the first time. Because there it is, in real life. The real live Morning Coffee set. With the sofa and all the plants and everything, all lit up by the brightest, most dazzling lights I've ever seen in my life.