I put my foot down and floor it. After watching Joel drive I'm getting the hang of sailing through yellow and turning right on red, and when I get on the freeway I speed-weave willy-nilly as good as the rest of them. I can't wait to see the look on Sasha’s face when I stroll in!
However. Things don't go quite according to plan. When I arrive at Tiger Tiger the place is deserted. The cats are unattended and there's no one in the kitchen. I try Sasha's bedroom door. Locked.
I give it a knock.
A terrified voice calls, 'Go away!'
'Sasha!' I lean closer. 'Is that you?'
Suddenly there's a scrambling to the door and she drags me inside, swiftly locking the door behind me.
'What's going on? Did Freddie get out? Why are you crying?'
I take in her sob-stained face and juddering breaths.
'It's Ty,' she hiccups. 'He's totally trashed, I don't know what to do.'
I guide her to a seat, trying to calm her.
'Nina's gone to the vets and I'm the only one here.'
In the background I hear the sound of glass smashing and some male swearing.
‘What was that?' I panic.
'He must be in the kitchen now.' Her eyes widen.
There's another crash – it sounds like the cutlery drawer being yanked asunder.
I have one thought – he's going for a knife.’
Chapter 29
My first instinct is to call the police.
'You can't!' Sasha stops me. 'He'd get in so much trouble with Carrie.'
'But—'
'And what if word got out? The fundraiser is in three days. Who'd come to a place where there's a madman on the loose?'
'This is America,' I remind Sasha. 'Anyone who's ever been in the studio audience for Jerry Springer would be here like a shot!' I pause for a moment. 'Maybe that's the hook you've been looking for – we could put Ty in one of the cages.'
'He's just drunk,' Sasha defends him. 'It'll pass.'
'So you're just going to stay locked in a room until he sobers up?'
Sasha nods.
'What if I called Helen?'
'What can she do?'
'I'm sure The California Club must have some SWAT team that deal with emergencies like this.'
'Let's just wait,' Sasha pleads. 'Nina – you know, the volunteer girl? – she should be back later, I'm sure she can reason with him.'
'I haven't got that long, and besides I need a wee. I'm going to have to go out there.'
'No!' Sasha pulls me back.
Outside we hear shuffling-staggering down the corridor.
I sigh. There is one person I would like to consult with but it would mean asking Elise for help. I really do need to use the restroom so I dial her. She gets Martha straight away. I give her a whispered update on Ty-gate (with Sasha's sleeping bag over my head for extra soundproofing) and in return she tells me what she thinks the best plan of action would be. Starting with persuading him to drink a large mug of coffee.
Checking that the coast is clear, we make a dash for the kitchen, clinging on to each other for dear life. Frankly I'd rather let Freddie chew on my femur than face Ty in this state but it has to be done. I fill a mug with steaming caffeine and try and calm my hammering heart.
'I'll come with you.' Sasha moves to join me but I block her. Martha has convinced me that Sasha is the reason for Ty's drinking so it would only aggravate things.
'You stay here. Unless you hear him coming, in which case go back to the bedroom.'
'But what should I do?' Sasha looks forlorn.
'Make another pot of coffee,' I instruct her.
As I creak down the corridor towards Ty's room I dip my finger in the brew to assess it's scald-potential, just in case it gets thrown back in my face. (Second degree burns, I predict.) He's not in his hammock so I proceed to the back porch. There he sits, scrunched and rocking. I fear he could lash out at any time so I keep a safe distance as I announce my presence: 'Ty?'
He flicks around, ready to attack. 'What are you doing here?'
I've definitely got the element of surprise on my side.
'I brought you some coffee.' I try to sound casual, as if I've just returned from a two-day outing to Starbucks.
‘I don't need it, I got this,' he wavers a bottle of Jack Daniels in my direction. 'Want some?'
'Okay!' I say, deciding it's better off in my hands than glugging down his throat. I sit down beside him but not too close, unscrew the bottle top and drag out the simple process of taking a sip. I want to say, 'Are you okay?' but clearly he's not, so instead, heart pounding, I try what Martha told me and dive in with:
'Why are you so angry at yourself for finding Sasha attractive?'
His head jerks round and his eyes bore through me like a drill. Though I'm trembling inside I hold his gaze.
'If I did, which I don't, it would just make me as superficial as everyone else, which I'm not.'
I think for a moment. I am Dr Phil, I can do this. 'This dread of appearing superficial—'
'A pretty healthy trait, don't you think?' he says, defensively.
'Yes but I'm wondering if you're taking it a bit far,' I venture.
'What?' he snaps.
‘Well, isn't it possible that you could be responding to something else in her, other than her looks?'
'I'm a man, aren't I?' he sneers, adding sourly. 'Besides, what else is there?'
'You seemed to be getting on pretty well with her on the first night we were here,' I remind him.
‘That was before I saw her,' he grumbles.
'What a ridiculous thing to say!' In my annoyance I forget my nerves. 'Why do you let how she looks wipe out all the good stuff you were responding to – that's just so short-sighted!'
'Listen,' he slurs. 'I was in the movie business for twelve years, you think I don't know about these skinny-perfect-pouty girls, what they can do to you?'
There's anguish in his last words. I try and soften my voice.
'I think you may have had one bad experience too many—'
'Damn right!'
'But it's not Sasha's fault that you feel this way. What has she ever done to you?’
Ty rubs his furrowed brow. All at once I see someone terrified of getting hurt again, punishing himself for having feelings for 'the enemy'.
'I'm not going to let her—' He stops himself.
'Let her what? Mess you up? Reject you? Is that why you're rejecting her first?'
'You don't know!' His voice cracks.
'No, I don't. Do you want to tell me?'
'No.'
'Okay.' I take a moment for us both to simmer down.
Ty takes a sip of coffee, I take a sip of JD.
'I'll tell you something: I'm not leaving here unless you guarantee you can be at least civil to her. If you can't, then I'm taking her with me.'
Suddenly all the fight seems to have gone out of Ty. 'I just wish she didn't look the way she does.'
'You and her both,' I mutter.
'Oh come on!' he snorts.
'Really, she thinks her looks are a curse – so you've already got something in common.'
'And she likes motorbikes,' he mumbles.
I smile. That is so sweet. He noticed. Underneath the hostile exterior there's a pussycat waiting to get out. Unfortunately, now the anger has subsided the self-pity is setting in.
'I just hate being like every other dumb schmuck who takes one look at her and falls at her feet. I don't want to be a cliché. I don't want a beautiful girlfriend.'
I raise an eyebrow. 'In case people think you're superficial? Are we back on that again?'
'I want to be with someone real.'
'She is real!' I cry, exasperated. 'Tell you what, why don't you wait fifty years until she's lost her looks and then make a play for her. That seems sensible. I mean, what's wasting fifty years of your life because you're worried about what other people will think.'
Ty scuffs his shoe on the boulder at his feet. 'It's n
ot just that. I'm worried about what I'll think about myself. If I got with her—'
'And we're not saying you want to or that you will …' I tease.
'Right!' he agrees. 'But I'd always wonder if I'm just with her for her looks.'
'Well then, your problem isn't with Sasha, it's with yourself,' I conclude. 'So I suggest you stop taking your inverted looksism' – I frown, hoping that's a real word – 'out on her!'
He looks gloomily at the earth. I could have sworn we were getting somewhere, and now this defeated slump.
'Have another sip of coffee.'
He obliges.
'It's funny isn't it?' I muse. 'For some people it's having the glamorous trophy wife and the right sports car and fancy address, and with you it's about having the correct set of political beliefs, hating the right group of people, wearing the dirtiest trousers, all to prove you don't care.'
No reaction.
'I mean, did you have to study the history of grunge to get your hair just right?'
'I don't care about that shit,' he grumbles.
'I don't care about this, I don't care about that! If it's so wrong to care then what on earth are you doing here?'
He looks straight at me. 'These cats need me. Look at Oliver. What happened to him is wrong!'
Finally some passion.
'Is that how you see yourself? As some avenging angel?'
Ty shrugs.
'You're here because you care. Be man enough to admit it.'
Gawd, I hope I haven't overstepped the mark. Martha said I'd have to tussle with him but—
'I wish that were true,' he sighs.
'What then? Are you trying to assuage guilt for your over-privileged background? You think you got it too easy so you want to help poor dumb animals. Animals who can't tell you what an idiot you're being?'
He takes the insult on the chin and simply says, 'I can do something for them. I can make a difference.'
'It's not either-or, Ty. You can help humans too.'
His angry eyes suddenly seem searching and vulnerable.
'You could help Sasha. You're so good at seeing the pain in these animals. Can't you see hers?' Now my voice is wobbling. 'Just think about it,' I say, swallowing my tears.
He crumbles and his head falls forward into his hands.
'She must hate me,' he says.
I shake my head. 'She should hate you. If she had any sense she would. But it's not hate, it's hurt. Your vanity is hurting her. Which is ironic, considering she's the babe and you're the dog!'
Ty snuffles a laugh. 'Where the hell did you come from?' He looks at me with something approaching affection.
'I wish I knew. If I did I'd go back there and get a second one of me made up just so I could sit on your shoulder and make sure you don't mess up the rest of this week.'
'Have you got a boyfriend?' he asks, somewhat unexpectedly.
I flash to Joel but then decide he doesn't fit in that category.
'Don't be absurd,' I say. 'You know all the best relationship advice comes from people with totally crappy love lives. It makes things so much clearer.'
'Well, I hope you get the one you deserve.'
'Is that a threat?’
He laughs. 'No, you deserve someone wonderful. Someone with as big a heart as you. But preferably not such a big mouth.'
I give him a playful punch and he pulls me into a hug.
I can feel all the love he has to give and I pray that Sasha is going to get the benefit.
'Are you staying over?' he asks.
'No, I literally just came by for an hour. I've got to get back to LA by 6pm.'
'LA?' He grimaces. 'What are you doing there?'
'Hanging with movie stars, stylists, manicurists – your kinda people. I'll send them your love.'
He smiles and looks down into his empty coffee cup.
'I'll get you another.'
'Thanks.'
As I get up he clasps my hand, keeping hold until our arms are fully extended and I have to let go.
I walk back to the kitchen in a daze, not quite believing that I've got away with confronting Ty without getting lacerated. I've got to meet this Martha woman. She certainly knows her onions.
‘Are you okay?' Sasha scrambles over to me as I set the coffee cup down on the side.
'Yeah, I'm fine. He's fine,' I smile at Sasha, wondering how I'm going to sum up the conversation for her.
'What did you talk about? Did you find out—'
'Basically he likes you.' I cut to the chase.
'What? I don't think so!' Sasha flusters but her eyes flash pleasure and hope and excitement. 'Did he actually say that?'
I smile knowingly. 'You're going to have to be gentle with him, he's got some issues.'
'Big bad issues?' Sasha asks, looking nervous.
'I think they're get-over-able. He hasn't told me the full story. Just take it slow and let him see the real you.'
'Whoever that is,' Sasha worries.
'Well, we've got mad and brave for starters, right?'
She smiles shyly.
I take her hands. 'This is your chance, Sasha. He's as interested in discovering your personality as you are.'
'I could use an extra pair of eyes!'
I laugh, 'You can do it!' My eyes flick to the clock. 'I'm so late, I've got to go.'
Sasha squeezes me tightly. 'Oh Lara!'
'I want daily updates. Promise?'
Her eyes are misty as she pulls back: 'I couldn't have done any of this without you. I felt like a leper being such a misery but you weren't afraid to get close.'
'I'm just sorry I didn't know how you were feeling before we came out here. I wish I could have done something sooner.’
'It doesn't matter now,' Sasha says, bravely. 'I'm just so relieved to be feeling vaguely human again.'
'I guess that's what happens when you surround yourself with animals,' I wink. 'Anyway, it's Helen we should be thanking.'
'I want to thank you both,' Sasha asserts. 'It's not an either-or thing.'
I smile to myself. 'No, it's not. There's enough love for everyone.'
I pour a fresh cup of coffee and hand it to her. 'He needs a top-up.'
'Are you sure?’
I nod. If those two haven't got it on by the end of the week I'll eat Ryan's rumpsteak. Raw. With extra flies!
Chapter 30
As I drive back to LA, I dial Helen and go hands-free. (On the phone that is, not the steering wheel.) She's overdue for an update and the latest developments make for headline news.
'Poor Sasha!’ she gasps, losing her usual “it’s all part of the plan” cool. ‘Is she okay?’
I tell her I'm convinced everything will be peachy-keen but that The California Club should be on alert, just in case.
'Gotcha,' Helen says, still sounding shaken. Thank goodness you were there.'
'It's fine. I'm going to pick up Zoë from work now but if there's any more problems we'll be back at Tiger Tiger like a shot.'
'Don't you worry about that, I'll check on her. You girls just concentrate on enjoying yourselves,' Helen resumes control.
'Oh yeah, we'll be living the high life,' I mutter. That was a pretty harsh trick to play on Zoë – have you seen where she's staying?'
'Harsh trick or a reminder of how far she's come – you decide.'
Helen stands strong in her defense of The California Club. 'So what are you gals doing tonight?' she asks, on a lighter note.
'Well, actually Joel is arranging some kind of treat. I think he feels Zoë needs a little glamour to balance out the grease.'
'That's sweet. So he wasn't just a Yosemite fling?'
'I guess not.' I'm reluctant to say too much about Joel for fear of jinxing the strangely satisfying relationship we have.
'Do you think he might be a contender?' Helen queries. She always likes to know the minutiae of our love lives.
'I really don't know,' I confess, deftly changing lanes and sliding on to the exit ramp that wil
l take me to Hollywood.
'Has he made you feel differently about Elliot?'
'Not exactly – I'll never not love Elliot, it's more that he's made me feel differently about me.’
‘How so?'
'Well.' I think for a moment. 'Ever since our little rendezvous, I've been feeling more confident, more independent – more my own woman!' I laugh.
' That's quite a gift.'
'Isn't it?' I feel a swell of appreciation for Joel. 'He's been a real tonic.'
'And Elliot. How's our little woodchuck?'
'Troubled,' I confess. 'He's been doing some major soul-searching out there in the wild, wild wilderness but he's yet to have a moment of dazzling enlightenment.'
'He will.'
'How can you be so sure?' I want to believe it but I'm concerned that he could just end up depressed.
'He's no fool. Given enough time alone he'll open his eyes and see—'
Helen stops short.
'See what?'
'Just see. Ever since his parents died he's had his head down. He needs to lift it up and look around him. Things have changed. Maybe too much.’
‘He thinks he's changed, lost his zip.'
'He hasn't lost it. He just hasn't had any use for it in a while. It'll come back.'
'Helen, you have such faith in us all!'
She laughs. 'You're my family! I'll see you right. Anyway, there's someone we've forgotten – what's going on with Elise?'
'I've barely spoken to her – she's always haring off to some class, it's like she's cramming for some spiritual enlightenment exam.'
Helen chuckles. 'I knew she'd crack in the end! I just hope it's doing her some good.'
My hope involves her getting stuck on a higher plane and not being able to come down again, but I keep that to myself.
'What do you think The California Club make of how we're doing?' I ask, curious about how closely we're being monitored.
‘They feel like I do,' Helen replies: 'proud of you all.'
'So everything is as it should be?' I check.
'Yes,' Helen assures me.
The California Club: LoveTravel Series - USA Page 25