The two cops seem disconcerted to see yet another person joining the group.
“Ma’am, where’ve you been?” asks one.
“I was behind the cactus. Call of nature,” Janice adds, clearly proud of her prepared answer.
“Don’t you have facilities in the RV?” says the light-haired cop.
“Oh,” says Janice, looking thrown. “Oh, goodness. I suppose we do.” Her confident air melts away and her eyes dart about wildly. “Goodness. Um…well…in actual fact…I felt like a walk.”
The dark-haired cop folds his arms. “A walk? A walk behind a cactus?”
“The police won’t notice,” says Minnie to Janice confidingly, and Janice jumps like a scalded cat.
“Minnie! Goodness, dear! Notice what? Ha-ha-ha!”
“Can’t you shut that child up?” says Alicia in a furious undertone.
“It was a nature walk,” Janice adds weakly. “I was admiring the cacti. Beautiful…um…prickles.”
“Beautiful prickles”? Is that the best she could come up with? OK, I’m never going on a road trip with Janice again. She looks totally uncool and guilty. No wonder the cops seem suspicious. (I’ll admit that Minnie hasn’t exactly helped.)
The policemen are looking at each other meaningfully. Any minute now they’re going to say they’re bringing us in or calling the feds. I have to do something, quick. But what? Think, think…
And then inspiration strikes.
“Officer!” I exclaim. “I’m so glad we’ve met, because I have a favor to ask. I have a young cousin who’d love to become a police officer, and he’d be so grateful for an internship. Could he contact you? You’re Officer Kapinski….” I get out my phone and start typing in the name, copying it off his badge. “Perhaps he could shadow you?”
“There are official channels, ma’am,” says Officer Kapinski discouragingly. “Tell him to look on the website.”
“Oh, but it’s all about personal connections, isn’t it?” I blink innocently at him. “Are you available tomorrow? We could meet after work. Yes! We’ll be waiting for you outside the precinct.” I take a step forward and Officer Kapinski backs away. “He’s so talented and chatty. You’ll love him. So we’ll see you tomorrow, shall we? I’ll bring croissants, shall I?”
Officer Kapinski looks utterly freaked out.
“You’re good to go,” he mutters, and turns on his heel. Within about thirty seconds, he, his colleague, and the dog are back in the police car and zooming off.
“Bravo, Becky!” applauds Luke.
“Well done, love!” chimes in Mum.
“That was close.” Janice is trembling. “Too close. We need to be more careful.”
“What is all this?” says Luke, baffled. “Why did you get out of the RV?”
“Janice is on the run from the narcs,” I say, and almost want to giggle at his expression. “Look, I’ll explain on the road. Let’s get going.”
TWO
They went missing two days ago. You might say, So what? They’re probably just on a boys’ trip. Why not relax and wait for them to roll on home? Actually, that’s what the police did say. But it’s more complicated than that. Tarquin had a bit of a breakdown-type moment recently. He’s also very rich and is apparently being targeted by Bryce with “unhealthy practices,” which Suze is worried means “joining a cult.”
I mean, it’s all just a theory. In fact, it’s lots of different theories. To be honest—and I’d never say this to Suze—I secretly think we might find that Dad and Tarquin have been sitting in a twenty-four-hour café in L.A. all this time. Suze, on the other hand, believes Bryce has already thrown Tarquin down a canyon after plundering his bank account. (She won’t admit it, but I know it’s what she thinks.)
What we need is some order. We need a plan. We need one of those incident boards like they have in cop shows, with lists and arrows and pictures of Dad and Tarkie. (Actually, no, let’s not do that. Then they really would look like murder victims.) But we need something. So far, this road trip has been shambolic.
It was an utter kerfuffle this morning—what with packing and handing over Suze’s three children to her nanny, Ellie (she’s going to live in and have full charge while we’re gone). Luke arrived with the hired RV at the crack of dawn. Then I woke Mum and Janice—they’d only had a few hours’ sleep since they arrived from the UK—and we all jumped in and said, “To Vegas!”
To be absolutely truthful, we probably didn’t need to hire an RV. In fact, Luke was all for going in two sedans. But my argument was: We need to talk to one another en route. Therefore we need an RV. Plus, how can you go on an American road trip and not get an RV? Exactly.
Since then, Suze has spent the whole time googling cults, which I don’t think she should do, because it’s freaking her out. (Especially when she found one where they all paint their faces white and get married to animals.) Luke has mostly been on the phone to his second-in-command, Gary, who’s at a conference in London, taking Luke’s place. Luke owns a PR firm, and he’s got stacks of commitments right now, but he put them all aside to drive the RV. Which is really supportive and loving of him, and I will do exactly the same for him when the situation arises.
Janice and Mum have been exchanging dire theories about Dad having a meltdown and going to live wild in the desert in a poncho. (Why a poncho?) Minnie has said, “Cactus, Mummy! Cac-TUS!” about three thousand times. And I’ve sat there in silence, stroking her hair and just letting my thoughts swirl around. Which, to be honest, isn’t a lot of fun. My thoughts aren’t in a brilliant place right now.
I’m trying to stay as positive and buoyant as I can, I really am. I’m trying to keep everyone cheery and not dwell on the past. But every time I let my guard down, it all comes back, in a horrible rush of guilt. Because the truth is: This whole trip is down to me. It’s all my fault.
—
Half an hour later we stop at a diner to have some breakfast and regroup. I take Minnie to the ladies’, where we have a long conversation about different kinds of soap and Minnie decides she has to try each soap dispenser in turn and basically it takes forever. When at last we make it back into the diner, Suze is standing alone, looking at a vintage-style poster, and I head toward her.
“Suze…” I say for about the billionth time. “Listen. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” She barely looks up.
“You know. Everything—” I break off, feeling a bit despairing. I don’t know how to continue. Suze is my oldest, dearest friend, and being with her used to feel like the easiest thing in the world. But now it feels like I’m in a stage play and I’ve forgotten my lines and she’s not about to help me out.
It was over the last few weeks, while we were both living in L.A., that things went wrong. Not just between Suze and me, but altogether. I lost my head. I went careering off the track. I wanted to be a celebrity stylist so badly that I lost the plot for a bit. I can hardly believe it was only last night that I was standing on the red carpet outside a premiere, realizing quite how badly I didn’t want to be inside the cinema with all the celebrities. I feel like I’ve been in a bubble, and now it’s popped.
Luke gets it. We had a long talk last night and set a lot of things straight. What happened to me in Hollywood was freakish, he said. I became a celebrity overnight, without intending to at all, and it threw me. My friends and family won’t hold it against me forever, he said. They’ll forgive me.
Well, maybe he’s forgiven me. But Suze hasn’t.