Christmas Shopaholic(84)

“Right. Is there…Are you…” I hesitate anxiously, wanting to be there for her but not to pry. “Is it…”

“He’s been to a lawyer,” she says, her voice so low it’s barely audible. “He wants a divorce.”

“Already?” I say, shocked.

“I’m spending half the day on the phone to my lawyer. It’s nuts. I don’t have time to get divorced. Like, I’m late for a meeting right now, but the lawyer’s just called. And Christmas,” she adds despairingly. “How do people have time?” She gives a weird laugh, then breaks off abruptly as Eva’s mum comes past, holding a huge fluffy sheep costume.

“Look at my costume!” shouts Eva. “My mummy made it!”

Steph freezes and turns even more ashen. Her eyes start flitting about wildly, taking in all the excited children arriving with their costumes.

“Costume,” she says, and swallows hard. “Costume. I never…Oh God. The pattern. I put it…I don’t know where I put it….It’s today, isn’t it?”

Reluctantly, I nod, and see panic consume her face.

“Where’s my costume?” says Harvey, and he looks up at her so trustingly, my heart squeezes.

“Oh, Harvey. Oh, darling. Don’t worry!” Steph looks as if she might throw up. “I’ll go to the…I’ll get you…” She glances at her watch. “Oh God, but I’m late.” She actually totters slightly on her high heels, and I feel a jolt of alarm.

“I’ve got a spare,” I hear myself saying hurriedly. “Have this one.”

“A spare?” Steph stares at me.

“Yes!” I say, as convincingly as possible, and hold up my carrier bag. “This one didn’t fit Minnie in the end, so I brought it to school to see if anyone else could use it and…how perfect is this? It’s still got Minnie’s name on it, but you can change that. Harvey, here’s your costume!” I say brightly.

“Becky, are you sure?”

The expression of gratitude in Steph’s face is kind of unbearable, because she looks so exhausted and ground down too. I wish I could sort out everything for her.

But, anyway, this is something, at least.

“Of course! Don’t wait for me,” I add, “if you’re in a rush.”

“Thanks.” Steph puts her hand on my arm and squeezes hard. “Thanks so much, Becky.” Then she hurries toward the classroom, gripping Harvey with one hand and the carrier bag in the other.

“That’s my costume,” says Minnie, who has been watching alertly. “My costume.” She raises her voice. “My costuuuuuuuume!”

Oh God. It’s been a while since Minnie had a meltdown. I’d forgotten how earsplitting her voice could be.

“Give it baaaaaack!” she yells. “That’s my costuuuuuuume!”

“Minnie, it was going to be your costume,” I say quickly, crouching down so we’re eye-to-eye. “It was going to be. But we gave it to Harvey. That’s what Christmas is about, giving things. You like giving presents, don’t you? Well, that’s…what we did!”

As I say the words, it hits me for the first time what I’ve done. I worked so hard on that costume. Cutting out and sewing and resewing. Stitching on those endless sequins. It took forever. And now I won’t ever see Minnie perform in it. I keep on smiling brightly at her little face, but behind my eyes I feel a ridiculous hotness.

Then I force myself to stand up straight and shake my hair back. It’s no big deal. It’s fine.

“Sweetheart, we just need to pop home quickly,” I say. “We’re going to get your other costume. Your even better costume,” I add as convincingly as I can.

I hurry her out of the school gate and into the car, racking my brains for something that will make a king costume in five minutes. As soon as we arrive home, I dash upstairs and start rooting through all my drawers for anything glittery or sequined. Scarf? Shawl? Could I repurpose some costume jewelry?

Minnie watches me silently for a minute, then starts grabbing for things too.

“Kings wear neckwisses,” she tells me, taking a diamante necklace from my drawer. “Kings wear two neckwisses.”

As the doorbell rings, I curse and dash downstairs again. I open the door to see the postman peering over a pile of brown boxes.

“You’re here!” he exclaims. “Only I was going to pile them up where I normally do…”

“Thanks!” I say breathlessly as I take them and close the front door with my hip. I’ll open them later. They’re hardly the priority right now.

Or, actually, maybe I’ll open them now. Just to check what they are.

I rip open the first box to find vests for Minnie. The next box has got A4 printing paper in it. Booooring. But the last package is a large padded envelope, containing something soft and tissue-wrapped—

Oh my God. It’s my Denny and George scarves! At last!

I tear them eagerly out of their tissue paper. One’s turquoise printed silk, one’s pink and sheer, and one’s deep burgundy silk velvet. The velvet one is massive—almost a shawl—and I suddenly realize that it’s perfect.

I hurry up the stairs, clutching the scarves, calling out, “Minnie! Sweetheart! You’re going to have the most stylish costume in the whole play!”