And then Luke straightens and wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer against him and my legs wrap around him and I feel his naked chest beneath my fingers and wonder how. And then he’s inside me, thick and hard, and it feels even better than when his mouth was there, and we’re moving against each other in just the right rhythm, with him burying himself more and more deeply in me, and me trying to get closer and closer to him, and he’s kissing my neck and shoulders where the sun is hitting me, and suddenly there’s sun all over me, like I’m being showered in golden sun drops, and I cry out at how good it feels, and Luke does, too.

From Queen of Babble

“So, old girl,” he’s saying. “What are we calling you, then?”

“We haven’t decided yet,” I say. “It’s so hard!”

“I’ve brought you a book!” says Mum, rootling in her holdall. “What about Grisabella?”

“Grisabella?” echoes Dad.

“It’s a lovely name!” says Mum defensively, pulling out 1,000 Girls’ Names and putting it on the bed. “Unusual.”

“She’d get called Grizzle in the playground!” Dad retorts.

“Not necessarily! She could be Bella… or Grizzy…”

“Grizzy? Jane, are you mad?”

“Well, what do you like?” says Mum, affronted.

“I was thinking… possibly…” Dad clears his throat. “Rhapsody.”

I glance at Luke, who mouths Rhapsody? with such an expression of horror, I want to laugh.

“Hey, I have an idea,” chimes in Suze. “Fruit’s been done to death, but not herbs. You caould call her Tarragon!”

“Tarragon?” Mum looks appalled. “You might as well call her Chili Powder!”

From Shopaholic & Baby

“I can say no!” I practically spit in fury. “I can say no whenever I like! I’m just not choosing to say it right now! I will take one,” I say to the confused-looking woman. “In fact, I’ll take two. I can give one to Mum for Christmas.”

I snatch two boxes and defiantly put them in my trolley.

So there.

“So you’re just going to waste fifty pounds, are you?” says Jess contemptuously. “Just throw awat money you don’t have.”

“I’m not throwing it away.”

“Yes you are!”

“I’m bloody not!” I retort. “And I do have the money. I have plenty of money.”

” You’re living in a total fantasyland!” Jess suddenly shouts. “You have money until you run out of stuff to sell. But what happens then? And what happens when Luke finds out what you’ve been doing? You’re just storing up trouble!”

“I’m not storing up trouble!” I lash back angrily.

“Yes you are!”

“No I’m no–”

“Will you two sisters just stop fighting for once!” interrupts an exasperated voice, and we both jump.

I look around in bewilderment. Mum isn’t here, is she?

The suddenly I spot the woman who spoke. She isn’t even looking at us. She’s addressing a pair of toddlers in a trolley seat.

Oh.

From Shopaholic & Sister

And suddenly I’m walking forward. I’m walking into the enchanted forest, carried on the swell of the music. Little lights are twinkling overhead. Pine needles are giving off their scent under my feet. There’s the smell of fresh earth and the sound of birds chirruping, and the trickle of a tiny waterfall. Flowers are magically blooming as I take each step, and leaves are unfurling, and people are gasping as they look up. And I can see Luke up ahead, my handsome prince, waiting for me.

And now, finally, I start to relax. To savour it.

As I take each step, I feel as though I’m a prima ballerina doing the perfect arabesque at Covent Garden. Or a movie star arriving at the Oscars. Music playing, everyone looking at me, jewels in my hair and the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn. I know I will never experience anything like this in my life. Never. As I reach the top of the aisle, I slow down my pace right down, breathing in the atmosphere, taking in the trees and the flowers and the wonderful scent. Trying to impress every details on my mind. Relishing every magical second.

From Shopaholic Ties the Knot

“Uhm…” I open my mouth and close it again. My mind’s gone completely blank. Come on, I must have some hobbies. What do I do at the weekends? What do I do to relax?

“Well, I…”

This is completely ridiculous. There must be things in my life other than shopping.

“Well obviously, I enjoy… socialising with friends,” I begin hesitantly. “And also the… study of fashion through the um… medium of magazines…”

“Are you a sportswoman?” says Elinor, eyeing me coldly. “Do you hunt?”

“Erm… no. But I’ve recently taken up fencing!” I add in sudden inspiration. I’ve got the outfit, haven’t I? “And I’ve played the piano since I was six.”

Completely true. No need to mention that I gave that up when I was nine.

“Indeed,” says Elinor, and gives a wintry smile. “Sacha is also very musical. She gave a recital of Beethoven piano sonatas in London last year. Did you go to it?”

Bloody Sacha. With her bloody water-skiing and bloody sonatas.

From Shopaholic Abroad

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 a leather box, and inside is a little gold brooch in the shape of a horse. Lots of fine details; beautifully crafted. A little green stone (emerald?) for the eye.

Really not my kind of thing.

‘It’s gorgeous,’ I breathed in awe. ‘Absolutely… stunning.’

‘It’s rather jolly, isn’t it?’ says Tarquin. ‘Though 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 times with misty eyes. God I’m drunk. I think I’m actually seeing through champagne. ‘This is so thoughtful of you,’ I murmur.

Plus I don’t really wear brooches. I mean, where are you supposed to put them? Slap bang in the middle 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 it on.

Aaargh! It’ll ruin my lovely Whistles dress! And who wants a horse galloping across their tits, anyway?

From The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic

From Wife in the Fast Lane

From Everyone Worth Knowing

“Where?” Rose asked dutifully.

“Tangerine. Very nice. And we’re sitting there, and the lights are low, and the candles are flickering, and I haven’t spilled any couscous on myself, and he tells me why he broke up with his last girlfriend. Evidently he’d developed certain interests.”

“What interests?”

“Shit,” said Amy, with an absolutely straight face.

“What?”

“You heard me. Consenting acts of defecation.”

“You’re kidding,” Rose gasped.

“I shit you not,” Amy deadpanned. “And so I’m sitting there, absolutely horrified. Needless to say, I couldn’t eat another bite, plus I had to spend the rest of the meal making sure I didn’t fart, because he’d think I was flirting…

Rose started laughing.

“Come along,” said Amy, pocketing the napkin and thrusting a beer into Rose’s hand.

From In Her Shoes

But, of course, life post-school has no atlas, especially here. So I sometimes longed for the coziness of a calendar locking grids, or a syllabus’s directives, and hoped one day I could figure out what that might be. But when you’re a grown-up, those directives have to come from yourself, and though what I wanted to do was still a blur, reconnecting with something that got me psyched up and feeling alive would be a step in the right direction

From Momzillas