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Wanted: 100 bottles of champagne

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Barterer: BeckyB

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Wanted: firework display (spelling out ‘Happy Birthday Luke’ at the end)

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CENTRAL DEPARTMENTAL UNIT

FOR MONETARY POLICY

5th Floor

180 Whitehall Place

London SW1

Ms Rebecca Brandon

The Pines

43 Elton Road

Oxshott

Surrey

10 February 2006

Dear Rebecca

Thank you for your letter of 8 February, and for all your suggestions.

Bartering is certainly one idea to aid the economy. However, I am not sure how practical it would be for the Chancellor to barter ‘some old stuff in museums that we don’t need’ for ‘loads of French cheeses that we could all share out’. I also fear it would be unfeasible to barter ‘a minor member of the Royal Family’ with the USA, in return for ‘enough J Crew clothes for everyone’.

Nevertheless I thank you for your continuing interest in our economy.

Yours sincerely

Edwin Tredwell

Director of Policy Research

TEN

Huh. Some nanny agency that is. I’m thinking of complaining to the Nanny Ombudsman. Nanny agencies should be confidential. They should be discreet. Apparently the story of the mother and the carrots has been forwarded to every single nanny agency in town. Suze rang up apologetically and said everyone at St Cuthbert’s was talking about it and it’s the new urban legend, except the way the story goes now, it ends up with me and Kyla throwing carrots at each other.

Luke wasn’t impressed, no matter how many times I explained that Kyla was totally unsuitable for us anyway. And apparently, the agency might find it ‘difficult’ to find a replacement Ultimate Nanny. So I’ve had to ask Mum to step in and she got all huffy and said, ‘Oh, I’m good enough for you now, am I?’

And to make things worse, last night I finally looked properly at my bargain party supplies from the pound shop. I opened the place cards first of all – and they were personalized with ‘Happy Birthday Mike’. Two hundred of them.

For a while I considered introducing ‘Mike’ as a nickname for Luke. I mean, why shouldn’t he have a little nickname? And why shouldn’t it be Mike? I reckoned if I started sending him little emails calling him ‘Mikey’ and got Mum and Dad to call him ‘Mike’, and maybe even gasped ‘Oh Mike, Mike!’ a couple of times during sex, I could probably get him used to it before the party.

But then the napkin holders had ‘Congratulations Lorraine’ all over them, so I gave up on that plan.

At least there are some positives at the moment. My bartering venture is already a triumph – in fact, Jess is right, it’s amazing! Why on earth do people ever buy things when they could barter? I’ve had loads of responses to my ads and I’ve got several appointments this evening. At this rate I’ll have the whole party sorted out in no time, for no money!

Jess sent me links to some eco-decorating websites as well, and although most of the ideas are rubbish, I did find one that was quite cool. You cut old plastic bags into strips and make pom-poms – and they look really good. And they’re free! So I’ve started making those, whenever Luke isn’t around. Luckily, I have quite a large supply of plastic bags already. The Selfridges pom-poms look amazing, all bright and yellow, and the green Harrods ones are really smart, too. Now I just need a few white ones. (I might have to go and stock up at Harvey Nichols Food Hall. I mean, it’s quite expensive there, but then that’s the price of being green.)

And the other big plus is our new house, which is all still going forward. I’ve come here in my lunch-hour to show it to Suze – and it looks even better than it did before.

‘Bex, I love it!’ Suze comes clattering down the stairs, her face bright. ‘It’s so light! And the upstairs is massive! All those bedrooms! They seem to come out of nowhere!’

‘It’s incredible, isn’t it?’ I beam proudly.

‘It just shows what architects can do.’ She shakes her head wonderingly. ‘And no glitches? No problems?’

Poor Suze has heard the saga of every other house we’ve tried to buy.

‘Nothing! We’re exchanging next week and completing two weeks after that. We’ve booked the van and everything.’ I beam at Suze. ‘This one is meant to be.’ pqdm.com