Late Night Shopping: Read Online Free PDF Page A

like this on the most expensive shoes in The Store. Shoes which came in cedarwood boxes and sold for over £500 a pair.
     
'Hong Kong,' Paula confided, 'I ordered them when I was there on holiday with my boyfriend. They had to be made up in my size and they arrived yesterday.'
     
'Which shop?' Annie wanted to know.
     
'It was a market stall.'
     
'A market stall!' Annie couldn't believe it. The maker of these shoes looked as if he'd served a twenty-year apprenticeship with a master craftsman in Italy. Look at the arch on the sole. The sweep. Check out the contrast purple piping sewn with tiny stitches even round the buttonhole. These shoes were breathtaking.
     
Annie studied the ornate gold lettering inscribed on the insole: Timi Woo.
     
'Timi Woo?' she asked. 'Is that a joke? Is that supposed to be a take on Jimmy Choo?'
     
'No. That's his name!' Paula insisted. 'I asked him that. He gave me his card. He said my friends could email him. He'll even make up his designs in the colours you want.'
     
'Really?! And . . . most importantly – ' Annie had the shoe on her foot now, pointing her toe this way and that, admiring it from every angle – 'how much did these handmade, bespoke babies cost?'
     
'Oh . . . I think they were about sixty quid.'
     
'Sixty quid! Sixty quid!' Annie couldn't believe it. 'Are you sure?'
     
'Yeah,' Paula replied casually, not sure what all the fuss was about.
     
Suddenly Annie felt overwhelmingly excited. This could be it! This could be her thing. This could be her business! If she bought Mr Timi Woo's shoes and sold them over here . . . well, even at £120 they would be a bargain, a total steal. There was nothing available in Britain the quality of Mr Woo's shoes for less than £200, or £250 even. She couldn't think when she'd seen a lovelier piece of footwear that didn't come in a signed wooden box.
     
And the market for bespoke designer shoes was getting hotter and hotter. The Store already sold limited editions of Brian Atwoods and Rupert Sandersons at no less than £300 a pair.
     
'Paula, you are a genius!' she declared. 'You are a totally, brilliant, fabulous shopping genius.'
     
'Calm down, girl, you can order yourself a pair,' was Paula's response.
     
'A pair! I want hundreds of pairs!' Annie exclaimed.
     
'Maybe you should have a biscuit,' Paula advised.
     
'A biscuit? No, no, no!' Annie waved the idea away. 'Not everyone can eat biscuits all day long and still look like you. Paula, this is the best thing you've ever told me about.'
     
'Apart from the day that Donna . . .' Paula reminded her.
     
'Oh yeah.'
     
There was no forgetting the day that Donna Nicholson had finally left The Store. Their former floor manager, possibly the evil twin sister of Cruella de Vil.
     

Chapter Three
Dinah for drinks:
     
Mustard yellow pinafore (Barnardo's)
White, yellow and mustard floral blouse (Topshop)
Blue and white striped tights (Topshop)
Blue sequined beret (Accessorize)
Mustard Mary-Janes (Barnardo's)
Total est. cost: £65
     
'I'm liking your necklace.'
     
Five consultations later and Annie was finally packing the goodies gleaned from The Store today into white and gold carrier bags.
     
There was a top with a hem tear on the sleeve, which she'd bought (double discount) planning to invisibly mend it then sell it (Brand New With Tags) on her site. Then, she'd been given a generous selection of just about to go out of date miniatures by one of the Lancôme ladies, which she would either use herself or donate to her sister, Dinah.
     
But the best haul of the day had come from The Store's restaurant: three Tupperware boxes full of roasted artichoke salad and slices of fennel and fenugreek lasagne. Annie would offer this to whichever family members turned up at home tonight in search of dinner. She couldn't promise they'd eat it, obviously – that was the problem with The Store's restaurant leftovers, they were made for very low-fat-ladies-who-lunch.
     
Ed was taking Owen out