“I’m Paul,” he says, “and I’ll be looking after you today. Do you know what you’re looking for?”

“Well. .” I say, and pull out my notebook. We had a meeting about the cover yesterday and eventually decided on “Portfolio Management: Getting the Right Balance.” And before your head falls off with boredom, let me just point out that last month, the cover line was “Deposit Accounts: Put to the Test.”

Why can’t we just once put self-tanning creams to the test instead? Oh well.

“I’m looking for pictures of scales,” I say, reading off my list. “Or tightropes, unicycles. .”

“Balancing images,” says Paul. “No problem. Would you like a coffee?”

“Yes, please,” I beam, and relax back in my chair. You see what I mean? It’s so nice here. And I’m being paid to sit in this chair, doing nothing at all.

A few moments later, Elly appears with Paul, and I look at her in surprise. She’s looking really smart, in an aubergine-colored suit and high heels.

“So it’s swimmers, boats, and European images,” says Paul to her.

“That’s it,” says Elly, and sinks into the chair beside me.

“Let me guess,” I say. “Something about floating currencies.”

“Very good,” says Elly. “Actually, it’s ‘Europe: Sink or Swim’?” She says it in an incredibly dramatic voice, and Paul and I both start giggling. When he’s walked away, I look her up and down.

“So how come you’re so smart?”

“I always look smart,” she parries. “You know that.” Paul’s already wheeling trolley-loads of transparencies toward us and she looks over at them. “Are these yours or mine?’

She’s avoiding the subject. What’s going on?

“Have you got an interview?” I say, in a sudden flash of genius. She looks at me, flushes, then pulls a sheet of transparencies out of the trolley.

“Circus acts,” she says. “People juggling. Is that what you wanted?”

“Elly! Have you got an interview? Tell me!”

There’s silence for a while. Elly stares down at the sheet, then looks up.

“Yes,” she says, and bites her lip. “But—”

“That’s fantastic!” I exclaim, and a couple of smooth-looking girls in the corner look up. “Who for?” I say more quietly. “It’s not Cosmo, is it?”

We’re interrupted by Paul, who comes over with a coffee and puts it in front of Elly.

“Swimmers coming up,” he says, then grins and walks off.

“Who’s it for?” I repeat. Elly applies for so many jobs, I lose track.

“It’s Wetherby’s,” she says, and a pink flush creeps over her face.

“Wetherby’s Investments?” She gives a very slight nod, and I frown in bemusement. Why is she applying to Wetherby’s Investments? “Have they got an in-house magazine or something?”

“I’m not applying to be a journalist,” she says in a low voice. “I’m applying to be a fund manager.”

“What?” I say, appalled.

I know friends should be supportive of each other’s life decisions and all that. But I’m sorry, a fund manager?

“I probably won’t even get it,” she says, and looks away. “It’s no big deal.”

“But. .”

I’m speechless. How can Elly even be thinking of becoming a fund manager? Fund managers aren’t real people. They’re the characters we laugh at on press trips.

“It’s just an idea,” she says defensively. “Maybe I want to show Carol I can do something else. You know?”

“So it’s like. . a bargaining tool?” I hazard.

“Yes,” she says, and gives a little shrug. “That’s it. A bargaining tool.”



But she doesn’t sound exactly convinced — and she’s not nearly as chatty as usual during the rest of the afternoon. What’s happened to her? I’m still puzzling over it as I make my way home from Image Store. I walk down to High Street Kensington, cross over the road, and hesitate in front of Marks and Spencer.

The tube is to my right. The shops are to my left.

I must ignore the shops. I must practice frugality, go straight home, and plot my expenditure graph. If I need entertainment, I can watch some nice free television and perhaps make some inexpensive, nutritious soup.

But there’s nothing good on tonight, at least not until EastEnders. And I don’t want soup. I really feel as if I need something to cheer me up. And besides — my mind’s working fast — I’ll be giving it all up tomorrow, won’t I? It’s like the beginning of Lent. This is my Shopping Pancake Day. I need to cram it all in before the fast begins.

With a surge of excitement I hurry toward the Barkers Centre. I won’t go mad, I promise myself. Just one little treat to see me through. I’ve already got my cardigan — so not clothes. . and I bought some new kitten heels the other day — so not that. . although there are some nice Prada-type shoes in Hobbs. . Hmm. I’m not sure.

I arrive at the cosmetics department of Barkers and suddenly I know. Makeup! That’s what I need. A new mascara, and maybe a new lipstick. Happily I start to wander around the bright, heady room, dodging sprays of perfume and painting lipsticks onto the back of my hand. I want a really pale lipstick, I decide. Sort of nudey beige/pink, and a lip liner to go with it. .

At the Clarins counter, my attention is grabbed by a big promotional sign. BUY TWO SKIN-CARE PRODUCTS, AND RECEIVE FREE BEAUTY BAG, CONTAINING TRIAL-SIZE CLEANSER, TONER, AND MOISTURIZER, AUTUMN BLAZE LIPSTICK, EXTRA STRENGTH MASCARA AND SAMPLE-SIZE EAU DYNAMISANTE. STOCKS LIMITED SO HURRY.

But this is fantastic! Do you know how much Clarins lipstick usually costs? And here they are, giving it away! Excitedly I start rooting through all the skin-care products, trying to decide which two to buy. How about some neck cream? I’ve never used that before. And some of this Revitalizing Moisturizer. And then I’ll get a free lipstick! It’s a complete bargain.

“Hi,” I say to the woman in the white uniform. “I’d like the Neck Cream and the Revitalizing Moisturizer. And the beauty bag,” I add, suddenly petrified that I might be too late; that the limited stocks might have run out.

But they haven’t! Thank God. As my VISA card’s processing, the woman hands me my shiny red beauty bag (which I have to admit is a bit smaller than I was expecting) and I excitedly open it up. And there, sure enough, is my free lipstick!

It’s a kind of browny-red color. A bit weird, actually. But if I mix it up a bit with some of my others and add a bit of lip gloss, it’ll look really good.



By the time I get home, I’m exhausted. I open the door to the flat and Suze comes rushing up, like a puppy.

“What did you get?” she cries.

“Don’t look!” I cry back. “You’re not allowed to look! It’s your present.”

“My present!” Suze gets overexcited about birthdays. Well, to be honest, so do I.

I hurry into my bedroom and hide the Benetton bag in the wardrobe. Then I unpack all the rest of my shopping and get out my little silver notebook to itemize my purchases. David E. Barton says this should be done straight away, before items can be forgotten.

“D’you want a drink?” comes Suze’s voice through the door.

“Yes, please!” I shout back, writing in my book, and a moment later she comes in with a glass of wine.

“EastEnders in a minute,” she says.

“Thanks,” I say absently, and keep on writing. I’m following the rules of the book exactly, taking out all my receipts and writing them all down, and I’m feeling really pleased with myself. It just shows, as David E. Barton says, that with a bit of application, anyone can gain control of their finances.



Come to think of it, I’ve bought quite a lot of moisturizer today, haven’t I? To be honest, when I was at the Clarins counter, buying my Revitalizing Moisturizer, I forgot about all those pots I’d bought at Boots. Still, never mind. You always need moisturizer. It’s a staple, like bread and milk, and David E. Barton says you should never scrimp on staples. And apart from that, I don’t think I’ve done too badly. Of course I haven’t added it all up yet, but. .

OK. So here is my final and complete list: Cappuccino £1.50Muffin £1.00Notebook £3.99Pen £1.20Magazines £6.40Leaving present £4.00Egg and cress sandwich 99pCoconut bath oil £2.55Boots Moisturizers £20.97Two cardigans £90.00Evening Standard 35pClarins Neck Cream £14.5 °Clarins Moisturizer £32.50Beauty Bag Free!Banana smoothie £2.0 °Carrot cake £1.20


And that comes to a grand total of. . £177.96

I stare at this figure in utter shock.

No, I’m sorry, that just can’t be right. It can’t be right. I can’t have spent over £170 in one day.

I mean, it isn’t even the weekend. I’ve been at work. I wouldn’t have had time to spend that much. There has to be something wrong somewhere. Maybe I haven’t added it up right. Or maybe I’ve entered something twice.

My eye runs more carefully down the list and suddenly stops in triumph. “Two cardigans.” I knew it! I only bought. .

Oh yes. I did buy two, didn’t I? Blast. Oh, this is too depressing. I’m going to go and watch EastEnders.



OCTAGON — flair style • vision

Financial Services Department

8th Floor, Tower House

London Road, Winchester SO44 3DR

Ms. Rebecca Bloomwood Charge Card Number 7854 4567

Flat 2

4 Burney Rd.

London SW6 8FD


5 March 2000


Dear Ms. Bloomwood:

Thank you for your check for £43.00, received today.

Unfortunately, the check is unsigned. No doubt just an oversight on your part. I am therefore returning it to you and request that you sign it and return to us.

As you are no doubt aware, this payment is already late by eight days.