More pressingly, I have to convince the others that it's for the best.
'Honestly, it could be an exciting new start,' I insist. 'Who knows, maybe I'll move to Spain too.’
No one’s falling for that.
And so the breadbasket arrives.
A couple of hands reach half-heartedly for a seed-speckled roll while the others wave it away.
'Did we order enough wine?' Zoë drains her glass. 'I think we need more.'
'It's a lot to let go of,' Elliot sighs. 'All those good memories.'
'I thought it would always be there.' Sasha looks particularly sorrowful.
'It felt like a real home.' Zoë's eyes well up.
There's got to be a way to get round this,' Helen is determined. Together we can come up with a solution!'
No! I resist. I daren't feel hopeful so I try a new tack, 'Maybe I don't want to.'
Silence.
'Do you mean that?' Helen looks concerned.
'Look, with Mum gone, it'd just be me in a house full of strangers. That's no fun.'
For a second I think they're going to buy it but then Sasha gets an idea. 'Maybe I could move in, rent one of the rooms?' she says, brightening. 'I don't know why I'm still in London, there's no reason any more.'
Zoë follows her lead: 'And if I moved back we could be like Charlie's Angels, only landladies!'
'Remember when we used to imagine all of us living there together?' Elliot reminisces. 'I always thought that would be the perfect life: we could come and go as we pleased but there'd always be someone you could talk drunken gibberish to at 3am, someone to challenge at backgammon or make Marmite on toast for. Someone to laugh with …' he sighs. 'I've never been as happy as when we all used to hang out.'
'Me neither,' Sasha agrees.
'Mmmm,' Zoë concurs.
Even Helen, who has moved on to greener pastures, seems misty-eyed.
I force down the lump in my throat with a forkful of potato au gratin and a large gulp of Pinot Noir. All I ever wanted was for us to stay together forever. I'd love to believe that they'd all come back to Brighton and we could go back to the way things were but the reality is that they moved away for a reason and I can't keep hanging on to the past. I have to let go. Not my forte, but here goes:
‘My mum's putting the B&B on the market while I'm away,' I inform them, feeling like an executioner. 'She said she'd call if there's a serious buyer. I gave her your number, Helen, hope that's okay?'
'That's fine but you'll have your own mobile tomorrow,' Helen reminds me.
'Oh yes! The Batphone!' I laugh, trying to jolt the conversation back to The California Club. 'Can I count on a few cri de coeurs from Yosemite?'
Elliot looks at me, knowing exactly what I'm trying to do, then does the decent thing and plays along. 'I might need you to arrange an emergency airlift at some point!'
'Don't you dare,' Helen warns. 'You're all going to complete your week and you'll all have the time of your lives. Even if it doesn't feel like it at first.'
'Is that what happened to you, Helen?' Sasha asks. 'You still haven't said.'
'Yeah,' wheedles Zoë, 'What did The California Club make you do?'
Good girls, move on …
'I can't really talk about it until you've completed your week,' she demurs.
'Give the game away, would it?' Elliot narrows his eyes.
'Exactly.'
'Hmmm,' I muse. 'Well, I'll tell you one thing, it's not going to be dull!'
'Speak for yourself.' Elliot rolls his eyes.
'I can't wait!' Zoë's sparkle returns. 'Imagine if I got to meet Josh Hartnett!'
The B&B isn't mentioned again. We chat on through desserts of hazelnut charlotte with crème praline and honey-roasted white peach with panko-fried coconut crème pâtissière until we've eaten ourselves into a state of paralysis.
Still Elliot suggests an after-dinner liqueur.
‘Seriously?’
For once Zoë chooses beauty sleep over boozing. 'I want to look my best for the casting agents!' she tinkles, prompting Sasha and Helen also to call it a night.
And then there were two…
Chapter 13
Stepping out on to the terrace feels like stepping into a dream – just me and Elliot on a balmy night under a scattering of super-bright stars, serenaded by the swish of the inky black Pacific.
It would feel so natural to lean into him and have him slip his arm around my waist. For me, anyway.
'Are you lonely in Brighton, Lara?' Elliot startles me with his directness. 'I never thought that you might be, until tonight.'
I look down at the aqua gel of the hotel pool and try and form a reply: 'Well, I miss you. All. Of course. But um, I've got some really nice clients, sometimes I go to Browns for cocktails with the Langhams or Susie will get us tickets for the Theatre Royal because her mum works in the box office. It's nice.'
'But not a riot.'
'Not exactly,' I concede. 'Not counting last night, I can't remember the last time I was drunk!'
'You know what I miss?’ Elliot begins. ‘Going into town, bumping into someone you know and saying, "Let's go for a quick one!" then ending up down the pub till 1am. I suppose a lot of the uni crowd have moved on now?'
'Yeah, most of them are in London. I still see Denny around.’
'And how is he?'
'Same as ever.’
‘Stoned?’
‘Every waking moment.’
Elliot laughs and shakes his head. 'I can just see him fitting in at one of Elise's dinner parties.'
'Really?' Maybe I've pegged her wrong.
'I'm kidding! They're too formal for words. It's all her new work colleagues, and they're so competitive, even socially. Nobody dares drink more than one glass of wine for fear of letting their professional veneer slip.'
I smile. It was always the opposite with us – the more you disgrace yourself the more you're welcomed into the bosom of our family.
'I don't know why she does it to herself,' Elliot continues, slumping over the railing. 'She seems to find the whole hostess thing so stressful.'
'I think most people do,' I point out. 'We were just spoilt having Helen preside over our soirees.'
'You're right. She's a natural, that one.'
'So you're buying a house.' I don't know why I'm bringing this up again. ‘That's a big step.'
'It's about time I grew up.'
'Is it?' I ask.
Elliot looks up at me. 'It's what you're supposed to do, isn't it?' He sounds unconvinced. 'Anyway, Elise is keen to settle down. I know she can seem cynical but she's actually quite conservative when it comes to having a house and a family.'
Family? That's one conversation I don't want to have – the mere thought of Elise pregnant makes me want to scream, 'Spawn of the devil!'
'Have you met her folks?' I ask.
'Just briefly.'
'Did you go to their house?'
'No, they visited us. Why do you ask?'
'No reason,' I chirp. I'm still trying to put together the Elise dossier but information is hard to come by. Now I'm wondering how much Elliot himself knows about the woman he's planning to marry.
'Did you get on with them?'
'They're okay. Super-keen on me – not that I want to sound big-headed!’
I smile. Elliot could never do that. Even saying 'Mosquitoes love me!' feels immodest to him.
'They can't wait for us to get married,' he continues. 'I suppose most parents are like that – they think they'll be able to relax if they know someone is taking care of their baby.'
I've actually never got that message from my mum – hurry up and get married so I don't have to be the primary worrier any more. Mind you, she did once say that she knew I'd be safe as long as Elliot was around. As if he was my guardian angel as well as my best friend. I wonder how she's going to react when I tell her he's engaged. I'm not sure I want to, it would just make it all the more real if she knows.
'Oh well
– as long as you're having fun!' I shrug, eager to change the subject.
A dubious look passes over Elliot's face then he giggles like a child.
'Remember after that all-nighter on the beach when we had to prop Zoë under a tree while we were trying to get a cab?'
'And no one would take her so we ended up carrying her all the way home…’
‘…and the next morning she woke up and she had a dead beetle in her knickers!'
We splutter with mirth.
'And then I got you a taxi and you opened the door into an oncoming car and it ripped it straight off!'
'I'll never forget the look on that cab driver's face,' I cringe.
'What about when Helen's dad rang up and asked you out on a date and you said yes!'
'Don't!' I blush. It was April Fool's Day but I didn't twig until too late. I thought he was being genuine – I knew he hadn't been out with anyone since he split up with Helen's mum and I didn't want to be the first person to reject him.
'That was just mean!' I pout.
'He loved it!' Elliot laughs. 'He'd have gone through with it, given half a chance. I don't know what it is with you and older men, my dad always had a thing for you too. Said you were a keeper.'
'I loved your dad,' I husk.
Elliot has a quiet moment and then says: 'We'll always be friends, won't we, Lara? I can't imagine my life without you in it.’
He holds my gaze a little longer than I can stand.
'I'm always here for you,' I whisper.
He takes my hand and gently kisses it, as a distant clock strikes midnight. 'We should probably get to bed.'
I close my eyes and sigh. If only…
Chapter 14
Elliot is the first to leave the next morning. Then Elise, also flying to her destination, somewhere up the coast near Big Sur. Sasha and I drop Zoë at the train station in San Diego and then begin our car journey inland.
I think for all of us, the look of pride and hope on Helen's face is what keeps us going. When it came to saying goodbye even Zoë was wishing we could all just stay by the beach. What gave me the final push was remembering that this was my last chance to have two whole nights alone with Elliot – it has to be worth it for that.
'What do you think they're going to make me do, exactly?' Sasha frets just twenty miles down the road from La Jolla. 'Surely you need training to be around wild animals?'
'You would think…. All it says here is that the place is run by Carrie Shandrew, there's one other full-time guy – Ty – and a volunteer called Nina. Oh and they've got fifty-four big cats. Wow.'
The car engine revs wildly in response. I was expecting to drive but Sasha asked if she could, to take her mind off things. It's obviously working a treat.
'Are we on the 15 freeway for a while?' she asks, itching to get into the fast lane. Anyone would think she was in a hurry to get there.
'Yup. We just need to keep an eye out for Temecula, that's when we switch to the 215.'
'Then what?' she hustles.
‘Head for San Bernadino and then jiggle around a bit off-road.'
Sasha darts a look at me.
'Don't worry, we'll be fine. Have a Jelly Belly.'
I rattle the box over Sasha's palm. 'Oh look! You got red, white and blue – how patriotic – for America and the UK!
What can I say? It's the little things that make me happy.
'What flavors are they?' Sasha looks suspicious.
'You tell me!' I challenge, deciding this will be a good car game.
Sasha pops the white. 'Coconut.'
'Correct.'
'I'm going to guess blueberry for the blue without even tasting it,' she decides.
'How bold! Also correct!'
'Eurgh, that's revolting!' she swiftly follows it with the red. 'Cherry.'
'Almost,' I grant her.
'It's definitely cherry.'
'Very Cherry is what they have on the box.'
Sasha rolls her eyes. 'Now you!'
The jellybean game lifts our spirits and takes us as far as Temecula. By which time, unsurprisingly, we're feeling rather sick.
'I can't believe you've eaten all the Juicy Pears,' Sasha groans.
(What can I say? It was such a taste sensation, I emptied the whole box into my lap and picked them out one by one.)
'I can't believe you thought Pink Grapefruit and Top Banana would taste good together,' I counter.
Sasha grimaces at the memory. 'Can you put them away? Just knowing they're there is making me nauseous.'
I oblige. 'Gummi Bear?'
'Oh go on then!' Sasha rustles into the bag. 'So, how do you think the others will get on?'
'Well Zoë's going to love it, no matter what. That girl is out to have a good time in this life and woe betide anyone who gets in her way.'
'I wish I was more like her,' Sasha sighs. 'She's so gung-ho, party-hearty, make-the-most-of-every-situation. Where does she get her energy?'
'No idea.' I shake my head. I still haven't got over the maracas.
'Do you think LA will be what she thinks it's going to be?'
'Even if isn't, she can handle it.'
'I just hope she doesn't get disillusioned, she's been dreaming about going there for so long.'
Uh-oh. Sasha's starting to worry about other people when she's already got her plate full worrying about herself.
'Fret ye not,' I advise. 'Zoë would have just as good a time at a Dyspraxia benefit as the Oscars.'
‘It's a gift.'
‘Total blessing,' I agree. 'In fact, if I ever have kids that's the one thing I'd wish for them – not the fingers of a concert pianist or a Genius IQ but a sunny disposition.' I reach for my bag. 'Let's give her a call-christen the Batphone!'
'Aaaghhhhhhhhhhh!'
I hold the phone away from my ear. 'Zoë, are you okay?'
'Oh La, this is brilliant! I'm just passing one of those big water viaducts like Danny and Crater Face raced along in Grease! It's all graffittied and there's these little rows of flowerpots by one of the spillage pipes, I think someone lives there. Oh god – there's a naked man bathing! No way!'
The phone cuts out.
I look at Sasha. 'Do you think it was wise to let her loose unescorted?'
'Probably not,' she concedes.
I try Zoë's phone again but no reply – she must be in a tunnel, I'll try again in a minute.
'How are we doing?' Sasha nods at the map.
‘Not far till our next freeway change.'
'Would you say I've got a melancholy disposition?' Sasha asks, trying to sound casual about her non sequitur.
'Did someone tell you that?' I ask, treading carefully.
She nods. 'The make-up artist on the Michael Kors shoot. It's one of the most depressing things I've ever heard. It makes me think I'm going to feel like this for ever.'
'You could look at it another way – if you accepted that melancholy is your natural state rather than trying to reinvent yourself, then any good times would be a bonus.'
'Is that supposed to make me feel better?'
'Yes, but I can see why it wouldn't,' I admit, then try again. 'I remember watching this interview with Carrie Fisher and she was saying she's given up trying to fight her depressions when they hit, she's even given her miserable alter ego a different name so if someone rings up for her she says, "Mildred's in town" or whoever, so people know which state she's in.'
'Sounds scary!’
‘I think it's quite a good way of dealing with it. At least she knows Mildred is just visiting.'
I can't quite believe it but I seem to be experiencing a craving for a tangerine jellybean. I try to sneak the box on to my lap without alerting Sasha.
'I think I'd find it too exhausting being Zoë,' Sasha decides. 'In my next life I'm coming back as one of those naturally contented people. You know those folk who seem comfortable in their own skin.'
'Like Elliot,' we say in unison. He really is the most relaxed individual I know. Or
at least he was.
'91 freeway, exit here,' I direct Sasha before asking, 'Do you think he seems different?'
She pulls a contemplative face.
'I don't mean in a Helen dramatic-new-identity way, just not quite himself.'
'Like when Aaron Spelling brought back a different actor to play Blake's son in Dynasty?' Sasha deadpans.
I chuckle. 'No. He's obviously the same guy, it's just … his little twinkle's gone.'
'I didn't know he had a little twinkle,' Sasha teases.
'I think the E numbers in the Gummi Bears are getting to you,' I tut, then smile to myself: that's two out-of-character jokes in a row. The fact that Sasha's nearly at her mission destination seems to be giving her a boost. Or maybe it's just the hysteria setting in.
'I haven't noticed, to be honest.' Sasha tries to give my question about Elliot its due. 'He was a laugh at the beach.'
'Yeah. I just got the feeling that he was holding himself in check. Like he'd mess around and then pull back, as if Elise might disapprove or something.'
I'm so transparently trying to kick-start some Elise-bashing. I swore I wasn't going to bitch about her any more but I can't help it.
'You know, I wouldn't have thought Elliot was her type,' Sasha muses.
Excuse me? Elliot's everyone's type, surely?
'Not saying that he's not fantastic, but I probably would have put her with someone a bit more … a bit less …' Sasha can't seem to find the words.
'What?' I laugh, dying to know.
'Maybe someone older or richer or more catalogue model good-looking.'
I smile to myself. I love that Elliot's appeal is quirky.
‘To me he is the most beauteous thing I've ever laid eyes on but at the same time I have to acknowledge that he has one of those 'All my own work!' faces. And I don't mean in surgery terms. His face seems to reflect his personality as opposed to being a mask of inherited beauty. Of course, Sasha is quite the opposite. She's all about genes and expensive moisturizers. I can't help wondering, if she gets her other wish and discovers her inner identity, will we be able to see a change in how she looks on the outside? I guess we'll just have to watch this face.
The California Club: LoveTravel Series - USA Page 12