Shopaholic to the Stars by Sophie Kinsella

Author:Sophie Kinsella [Kinsella, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
ISBN: 9781448126361
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2014-09-24T23:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

I suppose in the old days, we would have waited for the first editions to come out. We might even have got some sleep. But this is the 24-hour internet age. The news was right there, instantly.

It’s 6 a.m. now, and none of us has been to bed. I’ve read about two hundred different pieces online. I can’t stop. The headlines have been changing every hour, as more bits of news filter in:

Lois is ‘Shoplifter’!!!

ASAs ceremony disrupted

Sage accuses Lois of theft, interrupts awards

Store assistant confirms shoplifting, police ‘pressing no charges as yet’

Sage: I feel betrayed by former friend

And there’s a whole load, just about me.

Witness Becky ‘saw everything’

Becky ‘may testify in court’

Stars fight over bag from stylist Becky

They just go on and on. The most extraordinary one is this one I found on a gossip site:

Becky ‘drank cocktails’ before row, bartender reports

I mean, for God’s sake. What does that have to do with anything? They might as well write, ‘Lois and Sage visited bathroom on day of row.’ They probably will write that.

We’ve all given up saying how bizarre it is. Suze and Tarkie are on the sofa with all the children, eating cornflakes and watching the coverage on E!, which is basically a loop of Sage screaming at Lois and a shot of me looking bewildered. I’ve seen it about forty-seven times. I don’t need to see it any more.

Luke and Aran are in the kitchen, talking grimly. Somehow they persuaded Sage to stop giving interviews, go home and promise to go to bed. Aran delivered her personally into the care of her housekeeper, handed over a huge tip and said, ‘This girl needs to sleep.’ But I bet she’s stayed up all night, too. I bet she loves it.

As for Lois, I have no idea. Her people surrounded her and hustled her out of the place almost instantly. It was like seeing a caged animal again. Every time I think of it my insides squirm with guilt.

‘Want watch Barney!’ Minnie barges into me, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Want watch Barney, not Mummy. Not Mummy,’ she repeats disparagingly.

I suppose it is a bit boring, watching your mother on a loop on the TV when you were hoping for a big purple dinosaur.

‘Come on.’ I lift her up, all cosy in her rabbit dressing gown and slippers. ‘Let’s find you Barney.’

I settle her upstairs, watching Barney on our bed with a bowl of sugar-free spelt puffs. (Totally tasteless but, unbelievably, her favourite snack. She really is becoming a child of LA.) Then I pull back the curtains and do a double-take. There’s a camera crew outside our gates. An actual camera crew! The next minute I hear the entrance buzzer sounding. Someone’s pressing it, over and over. I bolt along the landing and start running down the stairs, but Luke is at the bottom, waiting for me.

‘Don’t answer it!’ he says. ‘Aran will take care of it.’

He shepherds me away from the door, into the kitchen. ‘You’re going to have to keep a very low profile over the next few days,’ he says.

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