The California Club (40 page)

'Everything's fine. Really. He's great.'

'Oh good.'

'Has Alex got a girlfriend?'

'What?' Again she looks caught out.

'You know, Alex from The California Club.'

Keeping her eyes firmly on her bag she replies: 'Yeah, I think he has, actually. You don't fancy him, do you?’

There's no easy answer to that so instead I go straight to: 'What's she like, his girlfriend?'

'Oh, I don't really know her.'

'Pretty?'

'Nothing special. But he's more about the person than looks. Anyway, I'd better jump in the shower. Are you hungry?'

'Always,' I call after her then roll over on to my back to contemplate the pink-beamed ceiling one last time.

What the hell is going on?

Copper Café – the sequel. Only this time we're in one of the booths featuring a mural of bearded fellas and wagons at harvest time. My girls are all present, if a little hunched and heavy-lidded, but Elliot and Elise have yet to arrive. I feel sick with anticipation. I wonder if he's breaking it to her now. And she's breaking down …

'I'm ravenous!' Zoë scans the breakfast menu. 'I think I'm going to have a starter and a main course.'

I'm way ahead of you, I think to myself.

'Are we going to wait to order?' Sasha asks our leader, Helen.

'I think we may as well go ahead – hold on! Here they are now!'

As the Es walk towards us, my eyes scrabble over them looking for clues. They both look rough, but then we all do. Elise's eyes are red-rim free. Bad sign. And she's still wearing her engagement ring. That says it all. My heart plummets. Nothing has changed. It was just a moment of drunken madness – a birthday kiss that went awry. As I sink into a dungeon of disappointment I'm aware that there's a waitress by my side but due to the rushing in my ears I can't hear what she's saying. I feel her hand on my shoulder and look up. It's Amoret.

'I was just asking: Did you find them all right?' she repeats, filling my coffee cup.

Uh-oh. 'Yes! Yes, I did! Thank you!' I gabble, praying she doesn't follow up with any giveaway surf comments. That's all I need.

'Oop, that's me done!' Her last trickle of coffee drips into Sasha's cup. 'Excuse me a moment while I get a refill.'

Please let that be the end of the conversation.

'What were you looking for?' Elise asks.

She would, wouldn't she?

'Um, I just wanted to get a couple of these goblets to take home.' I chink my glass with my ring. 'She directed me to the gift shop.'

'Oooh! Shopping!' Zoë perks up. 'I haven't been yet, what sort of things have they got?’

I dodge her question with a suggestion: 'Why don't we take a quick look now?' I have to get away from the table. Away from Elliot.

'Can you give her our order?' Zoë checks with Helen.

'Tell me what you want.' Helen is a mistress of efficiency even with sand between her toes. She whips out a pen.

'I'd like the Roman beauty apple, the Swiss sausage frittata and a hot cocoa.'

'Flavor?'

Zoë checks her options. 'Chocolate mint. With cream.'

A collective. 'Ewwww!'

'What?' Zoë is indignant.

'Lara?' Helen's pen is poised.

I can't possibly eat a thing – my stomach is in knots but I don't want to cause a scene by saying 'nothing, thanks!' so I mutter, 'I'll have the breakfast sundae—'

'What's that?' Elise barks, obviously concerned I might be getting something better than her.

'Fruit, yogurt and granola,' I read, aware that Elliot is trying to catch my eye. I just can't look at him. 'And a glass of buttermilk!' I blurt, as if coming over all
Little House on the Prairie
will make everything all right.

'Got it!' Helen nods.

Once outside the restaurant I quickly divert Zoë to the front door and gasp at the fresh air.

'Lara, you all right?'

‘I'm just having a wave,' I clutch my throat.

'Bastard hangovers. You know we'll soon be at that age where you daren't drink for fear of the morning after. Take another breath.'

I wish I could tell Zoë what's really going on but I can't risk her storming in and punching Elliot. She'd be so mad at him for not following through. Maybe he's discovered Elise is dying. Or maybe he decided to hold off until The California Club week is complete. I get a sudden surge of hope. It's possible, isn't it? If he'd terminated their engagement this morning she surely would have stormed off, maybe even flown straight back to Manchester and that would have blown it for everyone … Maybe he's just biding his time.

'Feeling any better?' Zoë asks.

‘Much.' I nod. 'Let's go in.'

I'm not giving up on him yet. I've come this far. Gotta have faith.

'Appliquéd jumpers!' Zoë coos as we enter the gift shop/boutique. 'Oh, look at this one with the dachshunds on!'

I join her fondling of the chenille.

'I like this one with the satin ballet shoes!' Oddly I really do. It's so easy to mock people that wear these themed, seasonal sweaters but I can't help thinking that someone who can wear a jumper decorated with sequined reindeer probably has a better sense of humor than we realize.

We move on to the T-shirts, where a design featuring a gold lamé bucket and spade puts me in mind of this morning's beach mystery … I decide to casually throw a question Zoë's way.

'You know before we got here, did Helen tell you much about her fella?'

Zoë thinks for a moment. 'Not really. I think it was a case of "You'll see for yourself soon enough!'''

'So nothing about his job, for example?’

'I'm sure she said he was a bit of an entrepreneur but I don't remember her saying anything specific.' Zoë moves on to the blouses and two-pieces. 'Little Sofia from the dance floor would feel right at home here, it's like the wardrobe from
The Golden Girls
!' she chuckles at the shoulder pads and drapey co-ordinates.

'Have you ever seen a picture of him?' I continue.

'Reuben? No. I imagine he's pretty sexy. And lean. Surfers don't tend to be blubbery, do they? Oh look here's the glasses!' She leads me round the corner. 'Which ones are you getting?'

I opt for the amber and a periwinkle blue.

'How can you not get pink?' Zoë tuts, picking the pale rose and one with an oil-slick shimmer effect.

We clink over to the till, where I add a pack of pink golfballs for my Mum. While they wrap our wares, Zoë flicks through the counter copy of my Madonna Inn book, pausing on the wedding page.

'Would you get married here?' she asks.

'In a heartbeat.'

'It looks like it would be worth it for the cake alone,' Zoë coos. 'I'm so hungry!'

'Do you think Helen's going to marry her guy?' I try to bring up the subject one last time.

'I wouldn't be surprised. She does sound head-over-heels.'

'Don't you think it's funny that we haven't been introduced to him yet?'

'Not really,' Zoë shrugs. 'We were only in San Diego for one night. I'm sure when we get back there we'll meet him.'

I'm dying to tell Zoë that I think we already have, and reveal what I saw at Pismo, but don't want to go causing trouble or unsettling anyone until I find out a bit more about what is going on. But how am I going to do that from Big Sur? I heave a sigh. I'll burst if I have to keep one more secret!

With very little conversation to interrupt our eating, breakfast takes just a matter of minutes. It'll soon be time to leave. I just need to engineer a moment alone with Elliot before we go our separate ways…

'Last chance for a wee before we hit the road!' Helen – a.k.a. Brown Owl – announces as we throw down our serviettes.

Go, Elise – wee! But only Sasha and Zoë take her up on the offer, leaving me to wander out to the parking lot with the Es.

'One more night and we can be properly together again.' Elise gives Elliot a claustrophobic cuddle. 'After that I'm not going to let you out of my sight for a single second!'

Almost immediately he untangles himself from her arms.

'Um Elise, do you mind? I need a word with Lara alone.'

She looks like she's been slapped. I'm pretty shocked myself – I didn't expect such a direct approach from either of us.

'We'll just be two minutes,' he urges.

Glowering at me as if it's my fault, Elise stalks off.

When she's out of view, Elliot gingerly looks into my eyes and asks.

'How are you feeling?'

I don't know if he's enquiring after my hangover or checking to see if our starlit passion is still a viable commodity the morning after, so I begin with a smile and a neutral, ‘Okay. And you?’

He smiles back. 'That was quite a dance last night.'

'Mmmm,' I concur, still waiting for some clarity. I daren't go first. It's up to him to state his intentions. He's the one with a dangling fiancée.

'Listen, I've been thinking about the B&B,' he begins.

The B&B? What about me? What about us? Still, I'm listening.

'Maybe I do have the money to help you.'

'What?' I laugh. 'Did you win the lottery overnight?'

'No.' He shakes his head and takes a nervous breath. 'But if I didn't buy this house with Elise …'

'You would be short one marital home,' I finish his sentence for him.

'What if I didn't need one?' He looks intensely at me. 'What if I didn't get married? Not to Elise, anyway.'

My heart does a loop-the-loop then everything goes black. For a split-second I think I've fainted but then I realize someone has their hands over my eyes. The prickly kiss on the neck is the giveaway.

'Joel!' I gasp.

Before I can even turn around he's swept me up into a body-compressing hug.

'Let me look at you now you're thirty!' he sets me down and then holds my face in his hands.

'Where'd you come from?' I splutter. I can't believe his timing – wait till I tell him about Elliot, he'll be delighted! Mission accomplished!

'How did you know we were here?' I ask, still dizzy.

'Zoë,' he explains. 'When you left us at the diner we had a little chat. I wanted to get here last night but I had a business dinner I couldn't get out of.'

'But we're just leaving.' I look around, the others are on their way over.

'Well you know how I live to chauffeur you,' he twinkles.

'You're coming to Breathe?' Oh joy! I don't have to travel alone with Elise. 'Where's your car?' I look around for his black jeep.

'We're not driving.'

'I'm not jogging!' I warn him. 'It's got to be 100 miles.'

'We're flying! Friend of mine's a pilot. He's got this great little four-seater Cessna. He can set us down within a few meters of the entrance.'

I shake my head in amazement. 'You blow my mind!'

'Elise won't fly in something that size,' Elliot cautions, looking surly.

'Hey man, didn't see you there!' Joel reaches across and shakes his hand. 'What's going on?'

'Nothing much!' Elliot glowers. His whole countenance has changed. The tentative, hopeful look he had just minutes ago has clouded over into something moody and dark. Handshake over, he goes to turn away, only to find Elise stomping towards him.

'Is it all right for me to come back now?' She gives Elliot a withering look.

Elliot holds up his hands as if to say: I'm done here – do as you please.

'Elise, this is Joel,' I introduce them. 'Remember you spoke to him in Yosemite?'

Elliot turns back, looking perturbed. Why does he always act so weird around Joel? He can't be jealous, not after last night. It's blatantly obvious who my heart has chosen,
surely
?

'Oh yeah.' Elise eyes Joel from shiny black hair to Nike toe. 'Hi!'

'He's going to fly us to Big Sur. It's a small plane but really safe,' I assure her.

Elise immediately backs up. 'No way.'

Elliot gives a 'told you' shrug and folds his arms.

I open my mouth to try again but Joel lays a 'I'll handle this' hand on me.

'Well, it's entirely up to you but we're talking a smooth glide – the weather conditions are perfect, totally clear sky and we'll fly good and low so you can practically dip your pretty little toes in the sea.'

The toes bit has got to be too far. Oddly, Elise doesn't squawk an objection so Joel continues. 'By the sound of it you haven't had too much free time to explore Big Sur. This way you'd see it in all its rugged beauty.'

Elise seems mesmerized by him. 'Well, if you're sure …'

'Would I lie to you?' Joel charms her.

Elliot and I lock eyes. Our song. For a moment I feel like we're raised above the other two, connecting again. Then Joel pulls me back into his arms.

'It's so good to see you!'

I want to hug him back but Elliot looks so raw I keep it to a minimal squeeze, then prise myself away and wave over the others to join us. They all chatter busily with Joel (who naturally forms the center of attention) and I take the chance to beckon Elliot off to one side.

'What you were saying before …' I begin, eager to get back to the bit about him becoming co-owner of the B&B and better yet, the bit that sounded for all the world like a proposal!

'Forget it!' he snaps.

'Forget it?' I repeat, stunned.

'I don't know what I was thinking.' He angrily scuffs at the turf with his trainer.

'You're taking back the offer?' I want to be clear before my emotions bust through the dam that's barely holding them back.

'You didn't accept it,' he growls, avoiding eye contact.

'I didn't have the chance,' I reason, trying to keep calm.

'I wonder why.' Elliot scowls at Joel as if he'd like to deck him.

'So that's it, is it?' I can't believe this.

Elliot shrugs.

He's behaving like a child and I can feel the frustration bubbling up inside me. 'Is there something bothering you?' I decide to ask him straight.

'Like what?' he pouts.

'Like Joel,' I prompt, exasperated.

Elliot snorts and looks away.

'What?' I grab his lapel, frowning into his face.

'Nothing!' Elliot grunts, pulling away. 'If you want to make a fool of yourself…’

'Excuse me?' I laugh, utterly outraged. 'What do you mean by that?'