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Sophie Kinsella is an international bestselling writer. She is the author of many number one bestsellers, including the hugely popular Shopaholic series. You can easily download Mini Shopaholic Pdf, Mini Shopaholic Pdf by pdforigin. net. [Sophie] Kinsella at her most hilarious best.”—Fort Worth. Sophie Kinsella has dazzled readers with her irresistible Shopaholic novelssensational international bestsellers that have garnered millions of devoted fans and.
Pages Mini Shopaholic is the sixth book of Shopaholic series. It is a chick-lit novel by Sophie Kinsella , a pen-name of Madeline Wickham. Plot summary[ edit ] Rebecca Bloomwood and her husband, Luke Brandon, want to download a home of their own so that they do not have to live with Becky's parents anymore.
Their young daughter, Minnie, exhibits behavioural problems and seems to be incapable of being controlled by either parent. For example, she has been banned from four different Christmas grottos because of her naughty behaviour. Minnie's inability to behave properly gives Luke doubts about having a second child. He tells Becky that they are already having trouble controlling Minnie and he is unable to even contemplate having another child.
In addition to the difficulties of raising Minnie, Becky is also planning a surprise party for Luke. In her efforts to keep it a secret from Luke, she encounters several obstacles. At first, several of her friends and members of her family doubt Becky's ability to keep such a colossal secret and she faces the financial problem of throwing a grand party.
This includes the hardships in a potential lawsuit between Luke's company and the Arcodas group which Luke claims will just be a settlement , the excessive shopping which Becky solves by giving up shopping for new clothes to wear the clothing she hasn't worn for months and struggling to find a proper home for their family so they can finally move out of the Bloomwoods' house in Surrey. She must also deal with Elinor, Luke's biological mother, who wants to get to know her granddaughter, Minnie.
Becky keeps her encounters with his mother a secret from Luke as they have a hard time getting along. She expressly misses Annabel, Luke's stepmother who was more of a real mother to him than Elinor. Yet Becky is starting to see their own behavior is resembling that of his birth mother, in that they're being cold in keeping Minnie away from her.
Luke staunchly denies it, admitting he was offended for an insult Elinor made about Annabel before her death and the mistreatment that she gave Becky over the years. Later on, Becky also faces estrangement from her own parents after an argument she has with them.
One such argument involve a disagreement that she had with Graham and Jane while discussing Minnie's behavior. They both suspect that Becky is being selfish in not accepting responsibility for her own actions that lead to Minnie's bad behavior, which she denies. Graham and Jane also thinks she's interfering with their lives by inviting herself when they want privacy with each other.
The three go days without talking to each other. In a subplot, Jess and Tom have secretly gotten married in Chile. They are considering adopting their first child, but Janice is against it and insists they get a biological child first before adopting.
She attempts to lace their drinks out with drug induced euphoria to get them to conceive a biological grandchild for her. The first attempt is a failure which Jess and Tom both tell Janice to mind her own business. Becky is about ready to give up on the surprise birthday party, which is in shambles due to her problems with Minnie and her strained relationship with her parents.
Elinor steps in and offers an unconditional gift, the one real mothers would've made and reconciles with her when she accepts responsibility for her actions.
She is stunned that she would help her, but accepts it so Luke can have his birthday party. You see? Over here! She downloads all her Christmas cards half-price on Christmas Eve, writes them out on January the first and keeps them in a drawer for the rest of the year.
My half-sister, I should say. Jess is going to be a godmother. We were celebrating her birthday and Janice gave her a present of bubble bath, whereupon Jess launched into a ten-minute lecture on how much water a bath used and how people in the West were obsessed by cleanliness and everyone should just take a five-minute shower once every week like Jess and Tom did.
Does it exploit people? Tell her you bought it from a small independent cooperative. What have you got her? The wishing cards are laid out on a fake tree stump that you can use as a table. God, I remember writing letters to Father Christmas when I was little. They used to get quite long and involved, with illustrations and pictures cut out of catalogues, just in case he got confused. A pair of pink-faced girls of about ten are posting their wishes, all giggly and whispery, and just the sight of them gives me a rush of nostalgia.
It seems wrong not to join in. I might jinx it or something. Dear Father Christmas, I find myself writing on a card. I pause, and think for a bit, and then quickly scribble down a few things. I mean, only about three.
Minnie is scribbling earnestly all over her card, and has got felt-tip on her hands and her nose. Luke is standing in front of me, his dark hair and navy coat dusted with fake snow, a glint of amusement in his eyes. As we stride along his mouth is hard, and I almost start to feel nervous. What could it be? On the screen is an email from his lawyer, Tony.
Just like that. Not a good part, obviously. The malevolent old witchy aunt with the warty nose and the nasty cackle. He owns a PR company, Brandon Communications, and has had most of his employees for years. So he quit, and they took him to court for breach of contract. Which just proves how awful and overbearing they are. I was dying for Luke to call me as a witness. I had my outfit ready and everything. Navy pencil skirt, white shirt with ruffle, patent courts.
And then I ask you to look at the two men before you. So I did, even though the frustration nearly killed me. Now Luke exhales and pushes his hands through his hair. This whole thing has nearly wiped Luke out. In all sorts of ways. The case is over! In fact, several times. This house has got everything going for it. I feel a sudden burst of exhilaration. I have to go and download Livingetc, right now.
His face is averted and his chin is stiff. I was in Waterstones, waiting for the call about Arcodas. The new Ruth Rendell. She was only ill for a month and then she was gone and it absolutely hit Luke for six. She brought him up, and she understood him like no one else, and the worst thing is, he hardly saw her before she died.
There was nothing he could do. But even so, I know he does.
It makes sense, since she abandoned him and his dad when Luke was tiny. But he was on fairly civil terms with her when she blew it, big time. Something about Annabel. Which is fine by me. As I look up at Luke I feel a little squeeze in my heart. The strain of this year has really hit him hard.
No reason, really. Just because the shops are nicer to look at. Like the bespoke jewellers … and that shop with the silk flowers … and Enfant Cocotte, which is full of hand-made rocking horses and designer wenge cribs. My pace has slowed right down and I take a step towards the brightly lit window, full of creeping lust. Look at all these gorgeous things. Look at the tiny rompers, and the little blankets.
If we had another baby, we could get all new lovely blankets. He should understand me. The crappy old pram Minnie had is completely bust. Not that I want another baby just to get a cool pram, obviously.
But it would be an added bonus. About … us. I mean … all of us. Our family. Including Minnie.
Never mind. She beams around and taps the microphone for attention. Will it be a teddy? Or a scooter? Well done, Becky! There must be loads of little girls here called Becky. They should have warned me. Throw mine away. Is Minnie your dolly, love? No one was supposed to see that! After a few moments her face softens. She folds the paper and hands it back to me. Happy Christmas. My stomach flips over. What exactly did he hear? He did hear his name, I can tell.
A wife has an unerring instinct for these things. How the hell did she get up there? After three. Oh … fuck. But the whole bloody sleigh is collapsing. All the presents are falling off the sleigh on to the fake snow. Her eyes range meanly over me and Mum, and even Janice and Martin, who have appeared out of nowhere, both wearing festive jumpers with reindeers on and clutching Christmas Discount Shop bags.
Your daughter is hereby banned from the Grotto. In total mortification, I take the handles of the buggy. We all trudge out in miserable silence, to see Dad rushing up in his waterproof jacket, his greying hair a bit dishevelled.
Have you seen Father Christmas, Minnie darling? Oh, love. And that Santa was a total wimp. We wrecked the sleigh, trying to get her off a reindeer.
She just knows her own mind! Exactly the same. Mum always says the right thing. He looks as though some new and alarming thought has transfixed him. This is what Christmas is all about. Mulled wine and mince pies and White Christmas on the telly. Mum and Dad are really generous. I put the books in boxes. No one ever read them, anyway. And I keep all my make-up on the dining table, which is the ideal size, in fact it could have been designed for make-up. Luke finishes wrapping a jigsaw puzzle, reaches for a Magic Drawing Easel, then looks around the room and frowns.
Although to be honest, I was a bit taken aback myself. Have some more mulled wine! I have a sudden alluring image of myself walking down the street with Minnie. Here you are. So much for marital telepathy. Maybe I should introduce the subject by stealth. Mind you, Tarkie is Tarkie sweet, unsuspicious, usually thinking about Wagner or sheep.
Which I am NOT. At least, nearly all the pieces. For an instant I wonder whether Luke even heard. Then he raises his head, looking totally astonished. I think we should have a little brother or sister for Minnie.
How on earth would we control two? You saw the way she behaved today. Not to mention the incident at Harvey Nichols and the fiasco at my office. I want to have two children in matching pom-pom hats. I want Minnie to have a lifelong friend and not grow up an only child.
And I want our children to be close in age, not years apart. That you never want another baby? He looks exactly like someone putting off talking about something which is a sore point. I watch in growing dismay. Since when was having a second baby a sore point? One day. Having Minnie has been … amazing.
Enjoy Christmas, enjoy being the three of us.
Wenceslas or Snowflake. I bet Minnie will be an angel tomorrow. He probably never wanted any children at all. He probably resents me and Minnie. He probably wishes he was still a bachelor, zooming around in his sports car all day long. I knew it. He puts it down on the carpet and gently pulls out an old toy theatre. Where did you find that? I had one when I was a child, exactly like this.
Same sets, characters, everything. No, not Puck. The other one. It was like going into a different world. Look, all the sets are on runners. I take it back. What I need to do is have a little Mummy — Minnie chat. Explain the situation to her. Everyone knows that. She just wanted us all to see her stocking. Anyone else would have done the same.
I take a sip of coffee and happily reach for a Quality Street. God, I love Christmas. I head into the hall to see her at the door of the kitchen in her Santa apron. Novelty games or luxury gifts? Just a few things to clear up here first. Cheers, Gary. In fact I think we should do it every year. It could be a family tradition. Two, I need to finalize this agreement today. I heard her and Mum talking the other day and Janice is obviously gagging to hold another wedding.
Total cow, take it from me. Suze is stunning in a black shearling coat, her long blonde hair streaming down, Tarquin is the same as ever in an ancient old Barbour, and the three children are all gangly legs and huge eyes and Fair Isle jumpers.
Happy Christmas! There are so many of them, they should issue a crib sheet. I solemnly shake it, then scoop him up in a bearhug till he giggles.
Merry Christmas! Which was really tragic and everything, but there again, he was ninety-six. Plus, they now have even more squillions of money and land and stuff than they had before.
Their new house is in Hampshire, only about half an hour away from here. Well, it probably was. Well, Suze will love. Such a surprise. Does he mean tux? Is he a breeder? Is it single-breasted? I gave him a tup. An uncastrated sheep.
What kind of Christmas present is that? An uncastrated sheep! Er … lovely. Sure enough, Suze is scrolling through pictures on her phone, and turns it to show me a photo of Tarkie in a tweed jacket, perched on a vintage penny-farthing.
Minnie darling, come and see your friends! My heart freezes. Oh no, oh no. How did she get hold of that? I see the whole thing as if in slow motion: Suze gasping and shrinking back, and Tarquin diving in front of her, and the ketchup landing in a massive blob on his Barbour. I wonder if Luke would take a hit of tomato ketchup for me. I might ask him later. Just casually. And in return she sent me some photos of her and Tarkie grouse-beating, or pigeon-shooting, or whatever they were doing.
Suze is so sweet and loyal, just like the Queen, she never once complains. But honestly, where would you rather be? On some freezing-cold moor, or in Selfridges with 70 per cent off?
My Ally Smith limited-edition cardigan with the famous signature button. Was it on sale? Only a hundred and ten pounds. Christmas presents and the sales are totally different. He turns and studies me for a moment — then the cardigan again. Then he frowns as though something is puzzling him. How can you say that? And this one has flared sleeves.
Sometimes I wonder how someone so unobservant can be so successful in life. At least. He bangs it shut and heads out again. They make it on one of the farms. What else does Suze suddenly now own? Chocolate HobNobs? Ooh, that would be cool. Maybe … a box a year? I come back up to find Suze wandering around the cluttered room and picking over my stuff, like she always does.
Two whole years! Especially Minnie. Every time one of our house downloads fell through, they were secretly really glad, Mum once told me. Your poor mum will need loads of support. Maybe you can fix up some counselling!
I mean, we need our own space. So come on, show me the house! What does it need doing to it? It would make such a statement. Have you got an Alexander Wang bag? You never showed me!