“I’ll go straight up. Just give me a call if you need anything in the meantime.”
“One second.” Pamela reaches into her handbag and pulls out her credit card, extending it to me. “Take this.”
I hesitate. “I tell you what, why don’t you keep hold of that for now. Ravenna can have a good look around, and then if she sees something she falls madly in love with, you can come along later and decide if it’s something you’d like to buy for her.”
“Oh I like this girl, Pamela.” Gracie smirks delightedly.
“I-I . . .” Pamela flusters.
“You keep it,” I guide her hand back to her purse. “Thanks again, Charlie!” I call over and give him a little wave before I head back upstairs, ready for anything Ravenna can throw at me.
Chapter 8
“Where’s Mum?” is Ravenna’s predictable opening gambit.
“She’s working. I said I would take you.” I rather enjoy her look of dismay. “So, where do you want to start? There’s a Forever 21 over on Seventh.”
She gives a little snort. “I want to go to Tiffany’s.”
“Of course. I should have guessed from the way you’re dressed,” I mutter under my breath.
Today Ravenna is sporting a micro-mini and a mesh top, though her hair is piled high on her head, just like Holly Golightly—if Cat had savaged her updo.
It’s a ten-minute walk, but neither of us speaks along the way, preferring to let the silence between us be filled by horn honks, doorman whistles and wailing sirens.
“Here we are.” I contemplate the imposing building with its aqua-accented window displays.
Last time I was here I was eating morning-after-the-night-before croissants with Krista. Not that we dared to go in. I never have. I certainly feel more than a little daunted now as I follow Ravenna. She, on the other hand, is utterly blasé, scanning the sparkling glass cases, requesting certain items be presented to her, dismissing them and moving on.
I decide to wait by the door. Like backup security. I wouldn’t put it past her, making a dash for it with some pink diamonds.
Eventually she beckons me over.
“I want this,” she says, holding up an elongated sterling silver cuff bearing the inscription “T & Co 1837.” I get that it would have a certain punkish Wonder Woman vibe on her wrist.
“Okay,” I say.
“Well?” She holds out her hand. “Mum did give you her credit card, didn’t she?”
“I told her to keep it.”
“You did what?”
“I said she could catch up with us later, once you’d had a good look around.”
“But I want to get it now.”
“So pay for it yourself.”
“I haven’t got a thousand dollars to spend on a bracelet!” she splutters.
“Oh well. I guess you’d better start saving.”
Ravenna rolls her eyes. “Next you’ll be telling me to get a job.”
“And that would be absurd because . . . ?”
“You know I’m at university? I could only work part-time. Do you have any idea how many hours I’d have to clock up to afford something like this? And what would be the logic in that, when I can just ask Mum and she’ll buy it outright?”
In a horribly warped way, she has a point. What possible incentive does she have to work?
“So, where do you want to go next?” I ask her. “We only have an hour or so before we leave for Connecticut, so let’s make it count.”
“This schedule is pretty tight, isn’t it?” she muses. “Not a lot of room for delays?”
“No room for delays.” I try to sound authoritative.
“You know, I’ve just decided: I’m not coming on this trip. New England is just full of old people looking at leaves. I’m going to stay here in New York.”
Oh god. As much as this is music to my ears, I know Pamela won’t go for it.
“You know that’s not possible,” I begin.
“Why not? She doesn’t want me there anyway.”
“Your mother?” I’m about to beg to differ when she says: “No. The other one.”
“Your grandmother?”
“She can’t stand being around
“One second.” Pamela reaches into her handbag and pulls out her credit card, extending it to me. “Take this.”
I hesitate. “I tell you what, why don’t you keep hold of that for now. Ravenna can have a good look around, and then if she sees something she falls madly in love with, you can come along later and decide if it’s something you’d like to buy for her.”
“Oh I like this girl, Pamela.” Gracie smirks delightedly.
“I-I . . .” Pamela flusters.
“You keep it,” I guide her hand back to her purse. “Thanks again, Charlie!” I call over and give him a little wave before I head back upstairs, ready for anything Ravenna can throw at me.
Chapter 8
“Where’s Mum?” is Ravenna’s predictable opening gambit.
“She’s working. I said I would take you.” I rather enjoy her look of dismay. “So, where do you want to start? There’s a Forever 21 over on Seventh.”
She gives a little snort. “I want to go to Tiffany’s.”
“Of course. I should have guessed from the way you’re dressed,” I mutter under my breath.
Today Ravenna is sporting a micro-mini and a mesh top, though her hair is piled high on her head, just like Holly Golightly—if Cat had savaged her updo.
It’s a ten-minute walk, but neither of us speaks along the way, preferring to let the silence between us be filled by horn honks, doorman whistles and wailing sirens.
“Here we are.” I contemplate the imposing building with its aqua-accented window displays.
Last time I was here I was eating morning-after-the-night-before croissants with Krista. Not that we dared to go in. I never have. I certainly feel more than a little daunted now as I follow Ravenna. She, on the other hand, is utterly blasé, scanning the sparkling glass cases, requesting certain items be presented to her, dismissing them and moving on.
I decide to wait by the door. Like backup security. I wouldn’t put it past her, making a dash for it with some pink diamonds.
Eventually she beckons me over.
“I want this,” she says, holding up an elongated sterling silver cuff bearing the inscription “T & Co 1837.” I get that it would have a certain punkish Wonder Woman vibe on her wrist.
“Okay,” I say.
“Well?” She holds out her hand. “Mum did give you her credit card, didn’t she?”
“I told her to keep it.”
“You did what?”
“I said she could catch up with us later, once you’d had a good look around.”
“But I want to get it now.”
“So pay for it yourself.”
“I haven’t got a thousand dollars to spend on a bracelet!” she splutters.
“Oh well. I guess you’d better start saving.”
Ravenna rolls her eyes. “Next you’ll be telling me to get a job.”
“And that would be absurd because . . . ?”
“You know I’m at university? I could only work part-time. Do you have any idea how many hours I’d have to clock up to afford something like this? And what would be the logic in that, when I can just ask Mum and she’ll buy it outright?”
In a horribly warped way, she has a point. What possible incentive does she have to work?
“So, where do you want to go next?” I ask her. “We only have an hour or so before we leave for Connecticut, so let’s make it count.”
“This schedule is pretty tight, isn’t it?” she muses. “Not a lot of room for delays?”
“No room for delays.” I try to sound authoritative.
“You know, I’ve just decided: I’m not coming on this trip. New England is just full of old people looking at leaves. I’m going to stay here in New York.”
Oh god. As much as this is music to my ears, I know Pamela won’t go for it.
“You know that’s not possible,” I begin.
“Why not? She doesn’t want me there anyway.”
“Your mother?” I’m about to beg to differ when she says: “No. The other one.”
“Your grandmother?”
“She can’t stand being around
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