“Urm, Cheryl, I didn’t really mean this type of shopping...” I say, unfastening my seatbelt as Cheryl pulled into the last parking space at the side of the road. Bond Street was only round the corner, and the tall grey buildings blended perfectly into the slate grey city sky. Even though it was a weekday the pavement was packed, full of tourists and businessmen and homeless kids. It wasn’t yet one in the afternoon, but the day was so dark that the lights from the shops were reflected everywhere by the puddles on the tarmac.
“Who needs food when you’ve got fashion babes” she says, giggling “it’s fine, we’ll hit Waitrose before we go home...” she jumps out of the huge black 4x4 and slams the door behind her, instantly pulling her hat low over her face. I jump out the car too, then lean into the back and get Diana out of her car seat. She’s awake but not crying, which makes a change, and her dark eyes blink around, taking in the world.
“Waitrose?” I laugh as Cheryl wrestles with the pushchair “isn’t that a bit upper-class for a Geordie lass like you?”
Cheryl elbows me in the ribs as I take the pushchair from her and expertly unfold it. “Are you calling me scum, little miss Bradford?”
“No, how many lasses from Newcastle shop in Louis Vuitton?” I nod at the shop across the road.
“Not that many I think” she smiles, showing off her fabulous dimples. I carefully strap Diana into the pushchair, and Cheryl begins to walk down the road, trying to blend in with the crowds. I watch her walk, her painfully high heels splashing through the puddles, her thin legs in tight grey jeans that stuck to every curve and her dark red fitted coat that flared at the waist. My eyes seem to stick to her and the rest of the world becomes a meaningless blur. The only thing that matters is the baby in the pushchair and the stunning woman walking slightly ahead of me. She attracts whispers and second glances and gasps as she half pushes through the crowds of people, but she’s so beautiful that I’d probably glance twice at her even if she wasn’t the most famous person in the country. She ignores everyone, even me, and keeps her head down and shoulders hunched protectively around her, focusing on her shoes. She pauses outside a massively tall white building with beautiful old fashioned architecture and a blue flag hanging limply in the cold air. The front is made almost entirely of glass, and inside I can see wooden floors that seem to stretch on forever.
She grabs my elbow, smiling “McQueen?”
“What?”
“Have you ever worn McQueen?” people are starting to stare now, and a little girl points and whispers to her mum.
“What?” I gape at her open mouthed. Then she pulls me through the huge glass doors and inside the shop. “Cheryl, what are we doing?” I whisper, as a huge security man steps forwards.
“Good afternoon madam” he says to Cheryl, and smiles rather grimly at the baby, ignoring me.
“Hi” Cheryl smiled vaguely at him, then stood slightly closer to me.
“What can we do for you ladies today?” asked another woman, dressed entirely in black with her blonde hair tied up in a bun so tight that it made her cheekbones stand out of her flesh. It was as though these people could smell money on Cheryl’s skin. She was rich, and they knew it.
“Just looking” said Cheryl innocently “ooh, they’re beautiful” she cooed at a pair of black sandals with a curving heel. Then she nodded towards a rail of clothes “come on” she said, arching her eyebrow at me. I just smiled at the woman and followed Cheryl, the wheels of the pushchair squeaking slightly on the floorboards.
“Oh my God Kim. Oh my actual god.” I sheepishly glance at myself in the full length mirror in the changing rooms. “You look so beautiful” she smiles appreciatively at the dress. The dress is a very, very pale gold, embellished with golden beads and crystals glittering like diamonds. The light fabric clings to my body like latex, then falls and spreads to a mermaid tail hem, covering my bare feet. I stand on tip-toe because I’m a little too short to wear it without heels.
“You like it?”I hesitantly ask Cheryl. Although even I must admit that I look pretty hot.
She’s still staring at me “like it? Kim, you look...” she gently touched her lips with her tongue “wow, just wow.” In the mirror I watch the way the beads glisten as I move, and the almost liquid way the fabric drips from my curves.
“Thank you” I smile at her, a little shyly.
“You’re so perfect, look at your body” her eyes flit towards my boobs, where they pause for slightly too long. Or maybe it’s not long enough.
“Go try that pink one” I tell her, and she looks away, towards her feet.
“Which one?” she holds up two, one pale pink with a long train, and the other a deep almost scarlet colour.
I pause and think, scrunching up my nose and sucking in my cheeks “uh, the darker one I think”
Cheryl disappears into the other changing room, and I pull back the curtain and start to peel the dress from my skin. Back in my skinny jeans I lean against the changing room wall and wait for Cheryl, rocking Diana’s pushchair gently with my foot and smiling quietly to myself as I watch her slip into sleep.
“What do you think?” Cheryl pulls the curtain back an inch
“The 30cm square that I can see looks utterly awesome...”
“Seriously...” she pulls back the rest of the curtain. I try very hard to keep my mouth shut, but I let out a little gasp. The dress is very, very short, so short that I can see the curling tattoos that scrawl across her muscled thighs. It’s a deep pink that perfectly complements her skin, and it is made out of silk that looks so soft that it’s all I can do to prevent myself from reaching out and touching it. The dress has a very low neckline, and the rumpled silk sweeps over her body, gathering at her waist then falling over her hips. Her collarbones stick out of her skin as she sweeps her cascade of chocolate coloured hair over one shoulder. I see her eyes move as she glances over herself in the mirror, and she bites her bottom lip. “Kim?”
I wonder if this is how it feels to fall helplessly, completely and hopelessly in love.
“Kim, I had to buy it, that jacket was just, like, perfection”
“You didn’t have to buy it, like, nobody forced you too...” We’re waiting outside Sacha’s school in Cheryl’s massive 4x4, bags from Waitrose and practically every shop on Bond Street in the back. As well as the jacket Cheryl bought a Louis Vuitton handbag, Victoria Beckham jeans and the pair of sandals that she loved from McQueen. It made me feel a little bit sick to even begin to imagine how much she’d spent. But she was happy, and I suppose that’s all that mattered.
“Cheryl!” Sacha opened the back door of the 4x4 and jumped in next to Diana.
“Hello Kimberley, how was your day?” I muttered sarcastically, but Sacha ignored me.
“School was sooooooooo good! We did dance in PE and in science Tommy-Lee said that he likes me more than he liked Amy and then Amy said that she didn’t care because boys smell but she would say that and I don’t like her anyway and Grace’s mum and dad have split up and she cried in assembly when Mr Jones said that we should all love each other and...”
“Breathe Sacha” I remind her and she grins at me
“I love you Kim, and you Cheryl and you baby, baby Diana”
“Awwww” said Cheryl, wrinkling her nose cutely and shooting me an ‘I’m melting inside’ kind of look, as if her eyes actually were made of melting dark chocolate. “Come on, let’s go home” she says as she ignites the engine and puts her foot down, and her hand brushes my thigh as she changes gear. I feel electricity tingle through my skin, setting my mind on fire. I can’t think, all I know is that I’ve never, ever felt like this before. And it’s scary.
