KENNETH PRENDERGAST
Prendergast de Witt Connell Financial Advisers
Forward House 394 High Holborn
London WC1V 7EX
Mrs R Brandon 37 Maida Vale Mansions Maida Vale
London NW6 0YF
28 August 2003
Dear Mrs. Brandon,
Thank you for your letter.
I fear you have misconstrued the meaning of an “investment in gold.” I would strongly recommend you purchase gold bullion through a recommended broker, rather than, as you suggest, “get the starfish pendant out of the Tiffany catalog, and maybe a ring.”
Please do not hesitate to contact me again should you need further guidance.
Yours sincerely,
Kenneth Prendergast
Family Investment Specialist
SEVEN
I’M NOT REALLY GOING to give Luke a questionnaire. In fact I’ve thrown it in the bin for various reasons, namely:
1) We have a mature, trusting marriage where you don’t quiz each other on what color hair you prefer.
2) He would never have time to fill it in (especially the section “describe the qualities of your wife you most admire in 500 words”).
3. I have far more important things to think about. Suze and I are going to a big baby fair at Earl’s Court today, and there’s going to be about five hundred stands, plus freebies, and a mother-and-baby fashion show, and the biggest collection of prams under one roof in Europe!
As I come out of the tube station, there are already crowds streaming toward the entrances. I have never seen so many pushchairs in my life, and we haven’t even got in yet!
“Bex!”
I turn to see Suze, in a fantastic lime sundress, holding the handles of her double buggy. Wilfrid and Clementine are sitting up, side by side, wearing the cutest stripy hats.
“Hi!” I hurry over and give her a big hug. “Isn’t this fab?”
“I’ve got our tickets in here….” Suze rifles in her bag. “Plus vouchers for a smoothie each…”
“Has Tarquin got Ernie today?”
“No, my mother’s looking after him. They’ll have a lovely day together,” Suze adds fondly. “She’s going to teach him how to pluck a pheasant.”
It’s not just Tarquin. Suze’s entire family really is the weirdest.
As we enter the fair, I can’t help a tiny gasp. This place is huge. All around are gigantic photographs of babies, and colorful stalls, and promo girls handing out carrier bags. The music from The Lion King is playing out of loudspeakers, and a clown on stilts is juggling foam bananas.
“So,” says Suze in a businesslike manner as we join the queue. “Have you got a list?”
“List?” I echo vaguely. I can’t stop looking around at everyone’s prams and changing bags and babies’ outfits. A few people are smiling at the sight of Wilfrid and Clementine, sitting up side by side with their bright blue eyes, and I beam back proudly.
“Your list of baby gear,” says Suze patiently. “What do you still need?” She rifles in the envelope containing the tickets. “Here we are. The New Baby Checklist. Do you have a sterilizer yet?”
“Er…no.” My eyes are fixated on a bright red stroller with a cool polka-dot hood. That would look fab going down the King’s Road.
“Or a nursing pillow?”
“No.”
“Are you planning to use an electric breast pump?”
“Urgh.” I recoil slightly. “Do I have to? Ooh, look, they’ve got mini cowboy boots!”
“Bex…” Suze waits till I turn. “You do know having a baby is about more than buying them clothes, don’t you? You do have…realistic expectations?”
“I have totally realistic expectations!” I say with slight indignation. “And I’m going to get everything on that list. I’m going to be the best-prepared mother ever. Come on, let’s get started.”
As we head down between the stands, my head is swiveling from side to side. I’ve never seen so many gadgets…and baby outfits…and adorable-looking toys….
“You’ll need a car seat,” Suze is saying. “Some fix into the car, and some also clip onto wheels….”
“OK.” I nod vaguely. I can’t get that excited by car seats, to be honest.
“And look, here’s a sterilizer and bottle system,” says Suze. She pauses by the Avent stand and picks up a leaflet. “They have microwave ones…electric ones…. Even if you’re breast-feeding, you’ll need to express….”
My attention has been caught by a stand named Disco Baby. “Hey, Suze!” I interrupt her. “Baby leg warmers!”
