Shopaholic to the Stars (16 page)

Trying to hide my delight, I hurry over to the table and sink down in the chair next to Sage.

Oh God, my thighs are about
twice
the size of hers. Never mind. I’ll just keep my gaze away from the general thigh direction.

‘What happened?’ Sage is demanding eagerly. ‘Where were you?’

‘She was in a sports shop on Rodeo Drive. She pinched three pairs of socks. I mean, she gave them back,’ I add hurriedly. ‘I think it was just … you know. A moment of madness.’

‘And you caught her?’

‘I chased her down the street,’ I admit. ‘I didn’t know who she was at first.’

‘You’re a hero!’ Sage lifts a hand and high-fives me with her tiny, beringed hand. ‘Go Becky!’

‘I had no idea.’ Luke looks gobsmacked.

‘Well, I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.’

‘But you’ve just told us.’ Luke raises his eyebrows at me and I feel an uneasy pang, which I squash down. Come on. It’s no big deal. It’s not like I’ve blabbed to the whole world.

‘Don’t tell anyone else, will you?’ I look around the table. ‘It was only three pairs of socks.’

‘Sure.’ Sage pats my hand. ‘Your secret’s safe with us.’

‘She was lucky it was you that caught her and not store security,’ says Aran dryly.

‘Typical. That witch always lands on her feet.’ Sage rolls her eyes. ‘Now, if it had been
me
who caught her …’

‘Don’t even go there.’ Aran gives a short laugh.

‘What happened between you two?’ I venture timidly. ‘I know there was some kind of … argument?’

‘Argument?’ Sage gives a snort. ‘More like a completely unprovoked attack. She’s, like, a total psycho. She has a screw loose, if you ask me.’

‘Sage.’ Aran sighs. ‘This is old ground.’ He glances at Luke. ‘Maybe we could move on.’

‘Absolutely.’ Luke nods. ‘Let’s—’

‘No! Becky wants to hear about it!’ Sage turns to me, ignoring both Aran and Luke. ‘It started at the SAG Awards. She said she should have won Best Actress because she looked better than me in her movie. Hello? I was playing a
cancer victim
.’

‘No way,’ I stare at her, shocked. ‘That’s awful.’

‘You know what she said? “You don’t get any acting awards for shaving off your hair.”’ Sage’s eyes open wide. ‘D’you know how much research I put into that role?’

‘Anyway—’

‘Well, she’s getting what she deserves now.’ Sage’s eyes narrow. ‘D’you hear about this athletics film she’s doing? Nightmare. Ten million over budget and the director just walked out. Everyone hates her. She’s gonna go
down
.’ Her phone bleeps and she squints at it. ‘Oh. I gotta go. You guys finish up without me.’

‘You have to go?’ Luke stares at her. ‘We’ve only just started!’

‘Sage, hon.’ Aran sighs again. ‘We cleared your schedule for this. We want to hear what Luke has to say.’

‘I have to go,’ she repeats, shrugging. ‘I forgot I have a class at Golden Peace.’

‘Well, cancel it.’

‘I’m not going to cancel it!’ she retorts, as though he’s crazy. ‘I’ll catch up with you guys later.’ I can see Aran and Luke exchanging frustrated looks, as she picks up her bag, but I’m more interested in the fact that she’s going to Golden Peace.

‘So, do you go to Golden Peace a lot?’ I ask casually.

‘Oh, all the time. It’s amazing. You should go.’

‘Actually, I’m planning to,’ I hear myself saying. ‘So I’ll see you there!’

‘You’re going to Golden Peace, Becky?’ says Luke, deadpan. ‘I didn’t know that.’

‘Yes, actually.’ I avoid his quizzical gaze. ‘I’m going to sign up for some classes.’

‘Oh, do it!’ says Sage earnestly. ‘That place is great. I have, like, huge self-esteem issues, and they’ve really worked on them. I have self-assertion issues, too, self-acceptance issues … I’m battling some pretty big stuff.’ She flicks back her hair. ‘How about you?’

‘Me too,’ I say hastily. ‘I’m battling some big stuff too. I have … er … spending issues. I want to work on those.’

I hear a snort from Luke’s direction, which I choose to ignore.

Sage nods. ‘They have a good programme for that. It’s just a great place for getting your shit together. I mean, what good is all of this if we don’t love ourselves, right?’ She spreads her arms wide. ‘And how can we love ourselves if we don’t
get
ourselves?’

‘Exactly.’ I nod too. ‘That’s exactly what I’ve always thought.’

‘Great. Well, see you there. We could have coffee?’

‘Love to,’ I say as carelessly as possible.

‘This is my new cell number …’ She reaches for my phone and punches in a number. ‘Text me back, then I’ll have yours.’

Oh my God! I want to pinch myself. I’m making a date for coffee with Sage!
Finally
I have something to tell Mum and Suze!

As soon as Sage has left I hurry into the house and call Suze.

‘Hey, Suze!’ I blurt out as soon as she answers. ‘Guess what?’

‘No,
you
guess what!’ she replies, her voice bubbling over with excitement. ‘We’re coming to LA! I’ve swung it with Tarkie. He’s going to have a meeting with his investment people out there. I said to him, “It’s irresponsible to have investments in the States and not even know what they are.” So at last he agreed. And he really needs a break.’ She sighs. ‘He’s still devastated about The Surge. Did you see the newspaper write-ups?’

I wince. ‘A couple.’

‘His father keeps sending him newspaper clippings and saying he’s disgraced the Cleath-Stuart name.’

‘No!’ I say in horror.

‘Poor Tarkie feels like such a failure. And the stupid thing is, the fountain
works
now. It’s a brilliant tourist attraction. But everyone just remembers the launch going wrong.’

‘Well, come out to LA as soon as you can,’ I say firmly. ‘We’ll walk on the beach and forget all about it and Tarkie will cheer up.’

‘Exactly. I’m looking into flights right now. I’ve told the school we’re taking the children on an educational sabbatical. LA is educational, right?’

‘Definitely! So how long are you coming for?’

‘I don’t know,’ says Suze. ‘At least a month, maybe more. Tarkie needs some serious time off. A week won’t do it. Oh, what was your news?’ she adds as an afterthought.

‘Nothing much,’ I say casually. ‘Just that I met Sage Seymour and we really got on and we’re going to have coffee at Golden Peace.’

Ha!

‘Oh my God!’ Suze’s voice blasts me away. ‘Come on, spill! What was she like? What was she wearing? What did— Hang on,’ she interrupts herself. ‘Did you say Golden Peace?’

‘Yes.’ I try to sound nonchalant.

‘The rehab place?’

‘Yes.’

‘Started by Alicia Bitch Long-legs’ husband?’

‘Yes.’

‘Bex, are you insane? Why are you going there?’

‘To … um … to go on the spending-addiction programme.’

‘What?’
She actually splutters down the phone.

‘I want to work on my issues.’ I clear my throat. ‘I have some big stuff to sort out.’

Somehow when I say it to Suze it doesn’t sound as convincing as it did before.

‘No you don’t!’ she says in derision. ‘You just want to hang out with Sage Seymour and all the celebrities!’

‘Well, so what if I do?’ I say defensively.

‘But they’re all
weird
,’ she says, sounding unhappy. ‘Bex, don’t get weird on me, please.’

I’m momentarily silenced. She’s right. They are a bit weird. Alicia’s
totally
weird. But then, if I don’t go to Golden Peace, how will I get to have coffee with Sage?

‘I’ll be fine. I’ll only listen with one ear.’

‘Well … all right.’ Suze sighs. ‘But don’t get sucked in. Please.’

‘I promise.’ I cross my fingers.

I’m not going to admit the truth: I quite
want
to get sucked in. Because it’s occurred to me that if Sage goes to Golden Peace, who else might go? What career opportunities might there be? What if I meet some famous director and we get talking about the costumes for his next film over herbal tea, or whatever they drink. (Probably coconut water or yam water. Or banana water. Something gross like that.)

‘Bex?’

‘Oh.’ I come to. ‘Sorry, Suze.’

‘So, come on,’ she demands. ‘What was Sage wearing? And don’t leave anything out.’

‘Well …’
I sit back happily, settling in for a proper long chat. LA is fab and exciting and everything … but I do miss my best friend.

From: Kovitz, Danny

To: Kovitz, Danny

Subject: I’m alive!!!!!!

dearest friends

i write this from training camp on the island of kulusuk. i have been here one day and already i know this will be a transformating experience for me. i’ve never felt so alive. i have taken shots of the snow ice and the cute inuit people with their darling clothes. i am ready for the challenge. i am ready to push myself. i am ready to be at one with the soaring powerful nature that is around me. it is a mystical experience. i feel proud and humbled and enlivened and excited. i will see landscapes few people have ever seen. i will push myself to the brink. my new collection will be based on the experience.

all my love and wish me luck. i will email again from the next camp.

danny xxxxx

All I can say is … wow. I mean,
Namaste
. Or maybe
Satnam
? (I’ve been learning lots of spiritual, yoga-ish words and trying to use them in conversation. Except that ‘Satnam’ always makes me think of ‘sat nav’.)

Why
have I never got into Mind Body Spirit before? Why did I never do wellbeing classes in England? Or Navigate Your Inner Terrain? Or Sound Healing for Childhood Damage? I’ve been attending Golden Peace for two weeks now, and it’s transformed my life. It’s just amazing!

For a start, the place is fantastic. It’s a huge site on the coast, just south of LA. It used to be a golf club, but now it’s all low sandy-coloured buildings and koi lakes and a running track, which I’m totally intending to use sometime. Plus they sell fresh juices, and healthy meals, and there’s free yoga at lunchtime on the beach, and in the evenings they show inspirational movies outside while everyone lolls on beanbags. Basically, you don’t ever want to leave.

I’m sitting in a room with a dark wooden floor and billowing white curtains at the windows and a softly fragranced air. All the rooms at Golden Peace smell the same – it’s their signature scent of ylang ylang and cedar and … some other really healthy thing. You can buy the scented candles at the gift shop. I’ve already bought eight, because they’ll make
perfect
Christmas presents.

All the spending-addiction programmes were full when I phoned up, but that doesn’t matter, because this really nice girl, Izola, recommended a whole programme of general wellbeing classes for me. The point is, everyone can work on their soul and inner being, because the spiritual muscle needs exercise like any other. (I read that in the brochure.)

I do self-esteem group on Mondays, Compassionate Communication on Tuesdays, The Transitive Self on Wednesdays, and this brilliant class called Tapping for Wellbeing on Fridays. Right now it’s a Thursday morning, and I’m in Mindfulness for a Positive Life. At the start of the class, the teacher always says how hard mindfulness is and how it will take time to let go of the outside world, and we mustn’t be impatient with ourselves. But actually, I find it really easy. I think I must be a natural.

The group is quiet, and we’re all meditating on something in the room, which is what we do every week. Luckily, the people at Golden Peace are all really stylish, so there’s always something interesting to meditate on. Today I’m focusing on a gorgeous leather backpack in teal, which the dark-haired girl opposite me has slung below her chair. I want to ask her if they come in slate grey, but perhaps I’ll do that after the class.

‘Brian,’ says our teacher Mona, in a soft voice. ‘Could you please vocalize for us your mindfulness journey today? What are you meditating on?’

I’ve seen Brian before. He’s tall and buff with quite a prominent nose, which is unusual in LA, and he brings in a Starbucks, although I’m sure that’s not allowed.

‘I’m focusing on the grain in the wooden floor,’ says Brian, in a stilted voice. ‘I’m looking at the way the wood swirls around and ebbs and flows. I want to think about my ex-wife, but I’m going to push those thoughts away.’ He sounds suddenly fierce. ‘I’m not going to think about her
or
her lawyer—’

‘Brian, don’t judge yourself,’ says Mona gently. ‘Simply allow your thoughts to return to the floor. Absorb every detail. Every line, every speck, every curve. Be in the moment. Try to reach a heightened sense of awareness.’

Brian exhales. ‘I’m in the moment,’ he says shakily, his eyes riveted on the floor.

‘Good!’ Mona smiles. ‘Now, Rebecca?’ She turns to me. ‘We haven’t heard much from you. How is your meditation going today?’

‘Great, thanks!’ I beam at her.

‘What are you meditating on today?’

‘That bag.’ I point. ‘It’s really nice.’

‘Thanks.’ The dark-haired girl smiles.

‘A bag.’ Mona blinks. ‘That’s different. Are you focusing on the texture of the bag … the buckles … the colour?’

‘The straps,’ I say.