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.'Are there good shops, where you live in Scotland?' I say at last.Tarquin pulls a little face.'I wouldn't know.Never go near shops if I can help it.''Oh right,' I say, and take a deep gulp of champagne.'No, I& I hate shops too.Can't stand shopping.''Really?' says Tarquin in surprise.'I thought all girls loved shopping.''Not me!' I say.'I'd far rather be& out on the moors, riding along.With a couple of dogs runningbehind.''Sounds perfect,' says Tarquin, smiling at me.'We'll have to do it some time.'This is more like it! Common interests.Shared pursuits.And OK, maybe I haven't been completely honest, maybe they aren't exactly my interests at themoment.But they could be.They can be.I can easily get to like dogs and horses, if I have to.'Or& or listening to Wagner, of course,' I say casually.Ha! Genius!'Do you really like Wagner?' says Tarquin.'Not everyone does.''I adore Wagner,' I insist.'He's my favourite composer.'OK, quick  what did that book say? 'I love the & er& sonorous melodic strands which interweave inthe Prelude.''The Prelude to what?' says Tarquin interestedly.Oh shit.Is there more than one Prelude? I take a gulp of champagne, playing for time, desperatelytrying to recall something else from the book.But the only other bit I can remember is 'Richard Wagnerwas born in Leipzig.''All the Preludes,' I say at last.'I think they're all& fab.''Right,' says Tarquin, looking a bit surprised.Oh God.That wasn't the right thing to say, was it?Change the subject.Change the subject.Luckily, at that moment a waiter arrives with our garlic bread, and we can get off the subject ofWagner.And Tarquin orders some more champagne.Somehow, I think we're going to need it.Which means that by the time I'm halfway through my Fiorentina, I've drunk almost an entire bottle ofchampagne and I'm& Well, frankly, I'm completely pissed.My face is tingling and my eyes are sparkling, and my arm gestures are a lot more erratic than usual.But this doesn't matter.In fact, being pissed is a good thing because it means I'm also delightfully wittyhttp://www.fictionbook.ru/author/kinsella_sophie/the_secret_dreamworld_of_a_shopaholi.3/16/2006The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic Page 88 of 140and lively and am more or less carrying the conversation single handedly.Tarquin is also pissed, but notas much as me.He's got quieter and quieter, and kind of thoughtful.And he keeps gazing at me.As I finish my last scraps of pizza and lean back pleasurably, he stares at me silently for a moment,then reaches into his pocket and produces a little box.'Here,' he says.'This is for you.'I have to admit, for one heart stopping moment I think& This Is It! He's Proposing! (Funnily enough,the very next thought that flashes into my mind is Thank God I'll Be Able To Pay Off My Overdraft.Hmmm.When he proposes for real, I must make sure to think something a bit more romantic.)But of course, he's not proposing, is he? He's just giving me a little present.I knew that.So I open it and find inside the box a little gold brooch in the shape of a horse.Lots of fine detail;beautifully crafted.A little green stone (emerald?) for the eye.Really not my kind of thing.'It's gorgeous,' I breathe in awe.'Absolutely& stunning.''It's rather jolly, isn't it?' says Tarquin.'Thought you'd like it.''I adore it.' I turn it over in my fingers (hallmark good) then look up at him and blink a couple of timeswith misty eyes.God I'm drunk.I think I'm actually seeing through champagne.'This is so thoughtful ofyou,' I murmur.Plus I don't really wear brooches.I mean, where are you supposed to put them? Slap bang in themiddle of a really nice top? I mean, come on.And they always leave great brooch-holes everywhere.'It'll look lovely on you,' says Tarquin after a pause  and suddenly I realize he's expecting me to put iton.Aaargh! It'll ruin my lovely Whistles dress! And who wants a horse galloping across their tits,anyway?'I must put it on,'I say, and open the clasp.Gingerly I thread it through the fabric of my dress and claspit shut, already feeling it pulling the dress out of shape.How stupid do I look now?'It looks wonderful,' says Tarquin, meeting my gaze.'But then& you always look wonderful.'My stomach gives a flip as I see him leaning forward.He's going to try and hold my hand again, isn't he? And probably kiss me.I glance at Tarquin's lipsparted and slightly moist  and give an involuntary shudder.Oh God.I'm not quite ready for this.Imean, obviously I do want to kiss Tarquin, of course I do.In fact, I find him incredibly attractive.It'sjust& I think I need some more champagne first.'That scarf you were wearing the other night,' says Tarquin.'It was simply stunning.I looked at you inthat, and I thought& 'Now I can see his hand edging towards mine.'My Denny and George scarf?' I cut in brightly, before he can say anything else.'Yes, that's lovely,isn't it? It was my aunt's, but she died.It was really sad, actually.'Just keep talking, I think [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]