'but becky, it's going to be a wonderful party.' janice looks all flustered. 'you can't let her miss it.'

'she can come if she wants. she knows where i am.'

my phone bleeps with a text and i pull it out.

i have secured a brief interview with bernard today. i will keep you informed. kind regards. elinor.

elinor has to be the only person in the world who writes 'kind regards' on text messages. mind you, 'kind regards' is a lot better than 'i remain disapprovingly yours', which is how she once ended a letter to me.

thx! i text back. look forward to hearing!

i head out into the drive - and it takes me a moment to notice what luke is doing. he's unlocking the garage. shit. shit! where did he get the key from? i hid it, precisely so he wouldn't open it and find the manky marquee, plus 132 plastic-bag pom-poms. (which i am not disposing of, whatever elinor says. i made them for the party and they took me hours and they're bloody well going in the party.)

'nooooo!' somehow i make it across the drive in order to dive between him and the garage door. 'don't! i mean ... what do you need? i'll get it. you start the engine. get the car warmed up.'

'becky!' luke looks astonished. 'what's wrong?'

'you ... don't want to get your nice coat dirty!'

'well, you don't want to get your coat dirty,' he points out reasonably. 'i'm only after the road map. my bloody sat nav is on the blink.' he reaches for the handle again but i block his way.

'we can buy one on the way.'

'buy one?' he peers at me. 'why would we do that?'

'you can always do with an extra road map.' my hand is clamped on the garage door handle. 'it'll be fun. we can choose it together!'

'but we've already got one,' he says patiently. 'if you just let me into the garage-'

ok, i need extreme measures.

'do you know how desperate i am to buy something?' i cry dramatically, my voice throbbing like a shakespearean actress. 'you won't let me buy any clothes. now you won't let me buy a road map, either! i need to spend some money or i'm going to go crazy!'

i break off, panting. luke looks so freaked out, i almost feel sorry for him.

'ok, becky. fine.' he backs away, shooting me wary little looks. 'we can stop at a service station. no problem.'

'good.' i fan myself as though overcome by emotion. 'thank you for understanding. so, where did you get the garage key?' i add casually. 'i thought it was lost.'

'it was the damnedest thing.' luke shakes his head. 'i was looking for it, and i said aloud, "where is that key?" and minnie led me to it at once. she must have hidden it herself!'

honestly. that's the last time i include minnie in any of the preparations. she's a total blab.

'you'll never guess where it was,' luke adds as he starts the car. 'inside your make-up bag. can you believe it?'

'incredible!' i try to muster an astonished voice. 'what a little monkey!'

'by the way, do you want to come to paris with me on friday?' luke adds casually as he reverses.

i'm so thrown i can't answer. i gaze blankly back at him, my mind skittering. what do i say? what would be the natural reaction?

'paris?' i manage at last. 'what do you mean?'

'i'm going to paris for this meeting, remember? just thought you and minnie might like to come along. we could make a weekend of it. you know it's my birthday?'

the word 'birthday' is like a hand grenade going off in the car. what do i say? do i pretend i've forgotten? do i pretend i didn't hear him?

no. act normal, becky. act normal.

'um ... is it?' i swallow. 'wow, of course it's your birthday! well, that sounds lovely.'

'we'll have to spend friday night with my clients, i'm afraid, but at least it should be a celebration. i mean, once we've seen christian, we're well on the way to meeting with sir bernard himself!' luke sounds ebullient. 'i'll get bonnie to make the arrangements. so that's agreed?'

'fab!' i smile weakly. 'i just need to text suze about something ...'

i reach for my phone and quickly text bonnie:

luke wants to take us to paris on friday! do not book tickets!!

honestly, i'm going to crack up at this rate. no i'm not. it's fine. elinor's on the case. deep breaths. only three days to go.