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"You don’t think throwing away opportunity is a crime?" says Luke furiously "Because as far as I’m concerned…" He shakes his head "Jesus, Becky! We both had it all We had New York" His hand clenches into a fist "And now, look at us both All because you’re so bloody obsessed by shopping--"

"Obsessed?" I cry Suddenly I can’t stand his accusing gaze anymore "I’m obsessed? What about you?"

"What do you mean?" he says dis it in New York! The first thing you thought of when you saw that piece wasn’t , was it? It was how it affected you and your deal" My voice rises tremulously "All you care about is your own success, and I always come second I mean, you didn’t even bother to tell me about New York until it was all decided! You just expected me to… to fall in line and do exactly what you wanted No wonder Alicia said I was tagging along!"

"You’re not tagging along," he says impatiently

"Yes, I am! That’s the way you see me, isn’t it? As sorandwith it…"

"I haven’t got tiot tiot more time for me than you have! You didn’t have ti; you didn’t have time to visit my parents…"

"So I don’t have a lot of timindless tittle-tattle with you and Suze" He shakes his head in frustration "Do you realize how fucking hard I work? Do you have any idea how important this deal is?"

"Why is it i "Why is it so bloody important to make it in America? So you can i to iive up now! She’ll never be impressed Never! I mean, she hasn’t even bothered to see you! God, you buy her an Here her schedule to find five , into complete silence

Oh fuck I shouldn’t have said that

I dart a look at Luke, and he’s staring at er

"What did you call my mother?" he says slowly

"Look, I… I didn’tto keep control of ot to be a sense of proportion in all this All I did was a bit of shopping…"

"A bit of shopping," echoes Luke scathingly "A bit of shopping" He gives e cedar-ardrobe where I’ve been stashing all s craht nausea overcoht theot so excited about… now just look like a great big pile of rubbish bags I could barely even tell you what’s in any of the packages It’s just… stuff Piles and piles of stuff

Without saying anything, Luke closes the door again, and I feel sha over me like hot water

"I know," I say, in a voice barely above a whisper "I know But I’ for it I really am"

I turn away, unable to et out of this rooet away from Luke, from myself in the mirror, from the whole horrendous day

"I’ll… I’ll see you later," Iback, head for the door

The bar downstairs is di, and anony weak and achy, as though I’ve got the flu When a waiter co away, change lass, war, and I take a few sips -- then look up as a shadow appears on the table in front of me It’s Michael Ellis I feel

"Hello," he says "May I?" He gestures to the chair opposite and I nod weakly He sits down and gives lass For a while, we’re both silent

"I could be polite, and not mention it," he says at last "Or I could tell you the truth -- which is that I was very sorry for you thisYour British papers are vicious No one deserves that kind of treatle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">