Shopaholic to the Stars (49 page)

‘No one has seen anything of this collection,’ Lon is babbling. ‘There are rumours online, but nobody
knows
anything. So, like, I was wondering, will you wear it tonight? And can we take some pictures? My friends and me?’

His face is scrunched up in hope and he’s folding his bandana into ever-decreasing squares.

‘Of course!’ I say. ‘I’m leaving at six but I’ll come out five minutes early and you can all see the dress.’

‘Yay!’ Lon’s face relaxes into a beam. ‘We’ll be there!’ Already he’s tapping at his phone. ‘Thanks, Becky! You’re the greatest!’

As we head inside, my spirits are higher than they have been for ages. Danny sent me a dress! I’m going to be a fashion story! Nenita Dietz is bound to be impressed when she sees me. But my momentary euphoria freezes into icy fog as soon as I see Suze. She’s sitting in the kitchen, surrounded by papers, on which I can see her scribbled writing. Her hair is shoved into a dishevelled knot. I can hear
The Little Mermaid
playing in the next room, and smell toast, which is clearly what she’s given her children for their tea.

On the table is a fancy-looking Golden Peace tote bag, which is new. Alicia must have given it to her, as well as that sweatshirt sticking out of it. I know what she’s doing. She’s trying to buy Suze’s love.

‘Nice bag,’ I say.

‘Thanks,’ says Suze, barely looking up. ‘So you’re back.’ She sounds accusing, which is hardly fair.

‘I was back earlier,’ I reply pointedly. ‘But you were out.’
With Alicia
, I refrain from adding. ‘Any news?’

I know there isn’t any news, because I’ve been checking my phone every five minutes, but it’s worth asking anyway.

‘Nothing. I’ve been on the phone to all of Tarkie’s friends, but none of them has any leads. What have you done? Have you spoken to your dad’s friend?’

‘I went to the trailer park. I did some investigating there.’

‘Oh yes, I got your voicemail.’ She stops scribbling, and draws her feet up to her chair, hugging her knees. Her face is drawn with worry, and I feel a sudden urge to hug her tight and pat her back, like I would have done any other time. But somehow … I can’t … Everything feels too stilted between us. ‘You met another Rebecca? That’s so strange.’

I tell her all about the trailer park, and she listens in silence.

‘Something’s going on with my dad,’ I finish. ‘But I have no idea what.’

‘But what does it
mean?
’ Suze rubs her brow. ‘And why has he got Tarquin involved?’

‘I don’t know,’ I say helplessly. ‘Mum will be in the air by now, so I can’t ask her, and anyway, she doesn’t know anything …’ I grind to a halt. My attention has been grabbed by something on the kitchen counter. It’s a big box with
Danny Kovitz
printed on the side.

Obviously my dress isn’t the priority right this second. On the other hand, I can’t wait to see it. I don’t even know if it’s full-length, or mid-length, or a mini-dress …

‘I tried the police again,’ Suze is saying. ‘Absolutely useless! They said I could file a report. What good is a report? I need them
out
there, searching! They kept saying, “But where would we search, ma’am?” I said, “That’s for you to find out! Put some detectives on it!” Then they said, “Could these two gentlemen have just gone on a little trip?” I said, “Yes! They
have
gone on a trip. That’s the whole
point
. But we don’t know
where
!”’

As Suze is talking, I edge over to the counter. I lift the lid a little way and hear a rustle of tissue paper. There’s a lovely waft of scent, too. Danny always has his clothes sprayed with his signature fragrance before they’re sent out. I push aside the silvery-grey tissue paper and glimpse a shoulder strap made out of linked copper hoops. Wow.

‘What are you doing?’ says Suze tonelessly.

‘Oh.’ I jump, and drop the lid. ‘Just having a look.’

‘More “essential shopping” for Sage, I suppose.’

‘It’s not for Sage, it’s for me. I’m wearing it tonight. Danny sent it over specially. It’s from his
Trees and Wires
collection …’ I trail off, registering the sharp silence in the kitchen. Suze is staring at me with a look I can’t quite work out.

‘You’re still going to the premiere,’ she says at last.

‘Yes.’

‘I see.’

There’s another long silence. The atmosphere is getting edgier and edgier, until I want to scream.

‘What?’ I say at last. ‘What? Don’t you think I should go?’

‘Jesus, Bex! Do you really have to ask?’ Suze’s sudden vehemence takes me by surprise. ‘Your dad is missing and Tarkie too, and you’re going to a bloody premiere? How can you be so selfish? I mean, what kind of priorities do you have?’

Resentment is rising inside me. I’m tired of Suze making me feel bad. I’m tired of
everyone
making me feel bad.

‘Your dad’s disappeared without a trace and taken Tarkie with him!’ Suze repeats, still on her tirade. ‘There’s obviously some mystery; they could be in big trouble—’

‘Well, what am I supposed to do about it?’ I explode. ‘It’s not my fault if they just took off! I’ve got one chance in Hollywood, Suze,
one chance
, and this is it! If I don’t grab it, I’ll always regret it.’

‘The red carpets will always be there,’ says Suze scathingly.

‘The TV interviews won’t always be there! Nenita Dietz won’t always be there! I don’t see why I should just sit around, doing nothing, waiting for news. You can do that if you like. Maybe Alicia could keep you company,’ I can’t help adding bitterly. And I grab the Danny Kovitz box and march out of the kitchen before Suze can say anything more.

As I get ready, there are two voices arguing in my head. One is mine and one is Suze’s. Or maybe one is Luke’s. Or maybe they’re both mine. Oh God, I don’t know
whose
they are, but by quarter to six I’m sick of both of them. I don’t want to have to think about whether I’m doing the right thing. I just want to do it.

I stare at myself boldly in the mirror and adopt a red-carpet pose. I look good. I think. I’ve put on a bit too much make-up, but I don’t want to look washed out next to all the celebrities, do I? And Danny’s dress is genius. It’s short and slinky in a flattering black fabric, and the single shoulder strap is made of a mass of unpolished copper hoops. (They’re digging into my skin a bit, and they’ll probably leave marks, but I don’t care.) I’m wearing the spikiest ever black stilettos and my bag is a little copper-framed clutch (it was in the box with the dress). I definitely look like a top celebrity stylist.

Adrenalin is pumping through my body. I feel like I’m about to go into a boxing ring. This is it. This is
it
. As I’m carefully painting my lips, my phone rings, and I put it on speaker.

‘Hello?’

‘Becky.’ Aran’s voice fills the room. ‘Psyched for tonight?’

‘Definitely!’ I say. ‘Can’t wait!’

‘Great! I just wanted to let you know the run-down. You are in demand tonight, girl.’ He laughs. ‘You’ll be talking to NBC, CNN, Mixmatch, that’s a fashion channel …’

As he continues, I can barely concentrate. It all seems so surreal. I’m going to be on NBC!

‘So just stay bright and positive,’ Aran is saying. ‘Ooze your British charm and you’ll do great. See you later!’

‘See you there!’ I give myself a final spray of perfume and look at my reflection. British charm. How do I ooze British charm?

‘Cor, strike a light, guv’nor!’ I say aloud.

Hmm. Maybe not.

As I walk downstairs, I can hear Suze approaching. I start prickling with defiance, and clench my bag tight. She appears in the hall, holding Minnie on her hip, and looks me up and down dispassionately.

‘You look amazing,’ she says flatly.

‘Thanks.’ I match her tone.

‘Thin.’ She manages to make this sound like an accusation.

‘Thanks.’ I take out my phone and check for texts. There’s one from Jeff telling me he’s waiting outside, but nothing from Luke. Not that I was really expecting it, but still my heart drops in disappointment. ‘I’ll have my phone on the whole time,’ I add. ‘In case you … you know. Hear anything.’

‘Well, enjoy yourself.’ She hoists Minnie to the other hip and I glare at her resentfully. She’s only carrying Minnie to make me feel bad. She could easily put her down on the floor.

‘Here are the details of where I am.’ I hand her a printed sheet. ‘Thanks for looking after Minnie.’

‘Oh, any time.’ Her voice is so sarcastic I wince. She doesn’t mean it, I tell myself. She’s just stressed out about Dad and Tarkie.

I mean, I’m stressed out, too. But there’s a bigger emotion overriding the stress. It’s excitement. NBC … red carpet … exclusive designer outfit … How could I
not
be excited? How can Suze not understand?

‘Well, I hope you have the time of your life,’ she says as I open the door.

‘I will,’ I say mutinously. ‘See you later.’

I step outside and hear a roar from outside the gates. I stop dead and blink in astonishment. Oh my God. Lon must have brought his entire class to see the dress. There’s a whole crowd of them, clustered together, pointing cameras and phones at me through the iron bars of the gates.

‘Open the gates,’ I instruct Jeff, and I approach the throng, waving graciously, feeling like a princess.

‘Becky!’ Lon is calling.

‘Beckeeeee!’ shouts a girl in a black shift dress. ‘Over here!’

‘You look amazing!’

‘How does the dress feel?’

‘Can we get a back view?’

‘Did Danny tell you anything special about the dress? What was his inspiration?’

As I pose, looking this way and that, I keep darting glances back at the house. I hope Suze is watching out of the window and can hear all the yelling.
Then
maybe she’ll understand.

At last everyone has taken their photos and I’ve done two little interviews about Danny for fashion blogs, and I’m in the car, on the way to the premiere. I feel a bit giddy. It’s going to be brilliant. It already
is
brilliant.

The premiere is being held at El Capitan, and I know we’re getting near from the noise. The thumping music is practically rocking the SUV, and there are shouts from the crowd, and as we slow down, someone bangs on the car, which makes me jump, startled.

‘You OK?’ says Jeff at once.

‘Fine!’ I say, exhilarated. ‘It’s pretty big, isn’t it?’

The film is an action movie about two circus performers who foil a terrorist attack. Apparently they use all the animals and their circus skills to help them, and it was nearly derailed when an elephant went a bit crazy during the filming.

Jeff has to show all kinds of passes to officials, and as he does so, I peer out of the window. I can see faces pressing up against the glass, trying to see through the tinted windows. They probably think I’m Tom Cruise or something.

‘Jeez!’ Jeff says, trying to negotiate a path through the hubbub. ‘Place is chaos. You wanna go through with this?’

Honestly. Not him too.

‘Yes,’ I say firmly. I reach in my bag for my dad’s autograph book. I’ve brought it with me and I’m determined to get him as many autographs as I can.
Then
Suze won’t be able to call me selfish.

We’re in a queue of cars, and I can see how the process works. The car pulls up to the dropping-off point, and the door opens and the celebrity gets out and the crowd goes wild. There are two limos ahead of us. Soon it’ll be me!

‘So, you text as soon as you need to get out of here,’ says Jeff. ‘Or call. Any kind of trouble, you just call.’

‘I will,’ I promise, and check my reflection one last time. My heart is starting to beat fast. This is really it. I need to get out of the car elegantly, I need to stay calm, I need to remember who made my dress …

‘OK, you’re on.’ Jeff pulls up and a guy in a headset yanks open the door and I’m out. I’m standing on the red carpet. On the proper red carpet. I’m one of them!

I’m so transfixed by the atmosphere I don’t move for a moment. The music is even louder, now I’m outside. It’s all so big and bright and spectacular. The entrance to El Capitan is done up like a circus big top, and there are circus performers wandering about everywhere. There are fire-eaters and jugglers and a contortionist girl in a jewelled bikini, and a ringmaster cracking his whip. And there’s an elephant! An actual elephant, walking back and forth with its trainer. The crowd is going wild over some young guy in jeans, who I think is in a band, and I can see Hilary Duff about ten yards away … and is that Orlando Bloom signing autographs?

‘Rebecca?’ A girl in a black trouser suit approaches me with a businesslike smile. ‘I’m Charlotte. I’ll be escorting you on the red carpet. Let’s keep moving.’

‘Hi, Charlotte!’ I beam at her as we shake hands. ‘Isn’t this
amazing
? Look at the jugglers! Look at the elephant!’

Charlotte seems puzzled.

‘Right,’ she says. ‘Whatever. Let’s go.’

Cameras are flashing everywhere as we proceed along. I’ve been practising the proper film-star pose for days, only now I have to walk, too. I never practised film-star walking. Damn. How do they do it?