‘They're not blood. He was married to her mum's sister. They'd never even met before she went to stay with him a few years ago.'
'And they fell in love, just like that?'
'He was having problems with his marriage, she - the aunt - was back in England on a visit and yes, they fell in love. Unfortunately for Elise, the aunt was very popular in the village and everyone knew the niece was coming to stay and so when they found out …'
'Scandal!' Zoë coos.
'Elise couldn't bear the shame. She's a conservative girl at heart and so she left him, came back to England and latched on to Elliot – the right age, right job, no skeletons in his closet. He was her chance for a normal life.’
‘How do you know all this?' I marvel.
'She told me.'
'When?'
'We've been emailing since they met. I mentioned to Elliot one time that I'd heard Doris Day had a hotel in California and he remembered Elise talking about it because it's quite a feature in Carmel – one of the first hotels to allow cats and dogs.'
'So he put you two in contact.'
'Exactly.'
'And slowly you wheedled her life story …'
'You know me!' Helen shrugs, cheerily. 'I like to know everything about everything.'
'Why didn't you tell us?' Zoë humphs.
Helen gives me an enigmatic look. 'I had my reasons.'
I shake my head. 'I feel like I'm peeking behind the curtains at The Wizard of Oz. Who are you?'
'I'm your friend Helen. The one who wants the best for all of you. The one that wants to see you all as happy as I am,' she says and squeezes our hands. 'Or an interfering old busybody, depending on how you look at it.’
We laugh and hug her.
'Any more questions?'
'Thousands!' I laugh.
But number one would be: 'Where’s Elliot?’
Chapter 40
‘Sasha, I just saw a coach pull into the parking lot – please tell me you haven't hijacked a group of tourists to make up numbers?' I raise an eyebrow at her.
'Don't be silly!' she chuckles, continuing to unload beer on to a trestle table staffed by Reuben and cousin Beth (even though she's under age).
'What then?' I persist.
'Come and see for yourself.' She sets down the final bottles with a clunk and takes my arm.
As we head down the driveway, a bizarre hotchpotch of humanity begins to file past. A blonde in a skimpy white dress, a man in a gorilla outfit, a couple looking like they're going on safari, even one chap with a stethoscope round his neck.
'I didn't know there was a fancy dress theme,' I frown. 'Hey that guy looks like Paul Hogan – see, he's got the full Crocodile Dundee clobber.'
'Remember the Reel Awards?' Zoë appears behind me.
I spin around. 'You booked the lookalikes?'
'A select number – I got Ty and Boris to help me put together a list of all the famous people that have starred alongside animals in movies and then I called to see if I could find a match – that's King Kong and Fay Wray.'
Of course.
'Dr Dolittle …'
It's all beginning to make sense.
'Meryl Streep and Robert Redford …'
'Don't tell me! Out of Africa? They look so convincing.'
'Boris and Holy Mary did the make-up,' Zoë grins. They're even bringing along some old movie memorabilia for us to auction later.'
‘This one's a toughie …' Sasha nods over to a beefcake in a loincloth.
'Tarzan!' I hoot. 'Wow, he's a big fella, isn't he?' The ground fairly thuds as he passes.
'Jane'll be along later, she missed the coach,' Zoë tells Sasha.
‘I thought Cheetah was a chimp,' I frown as the next chap to pass us hoiks a toy orangutan into his arms.
'He was, that's Clint Eastwood for Any Which Way But Loose. Which reminds me – I'd better go and set up the film clips.' Sasha bows out.
'We're having a kind of Animal Oscars,' Zoë explains. 'Ty's put together a montage of all the moments where the animals out-acted the actors.'
'Hm?' I'm distracted as a dashing couple pass us. 'Is that …?'
'Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant.'
'For Bringing Up Baby?' I gasp. 'I thought you slept all through that!' I laugh, recalling the Sunday we rented it.
'Most of it,' Zoë concedes. 'But I remembered the bit with the leopard – we're going to team them up with Stella later.'
'Zoë, this is amazing! Look at you!' She's radiant.
'I forgot the last reel!' Sasha yells as she hares past us.
'And Sasha!' I laugh. 'I've never seen her move so fast!’
‘I know – she never used to get this psyched about her modeling jobs, did she?'
I shake my head, thrilled that she's found a passion.
'She's worked so hard,' Zoë acknowledges.
'What about you? You've been slogging your mules off in a diner all week and yet you've pulled together the most perfect theme for the party – it's inspired!'
Zoë can't help but puff with pride. 'It's funny, isn't it? I worked for a charity for four years and it never once occurred to me to try and come up with any fundraising ideas because that wasn't my job. I was all about the paperwork. Now I think I might have missed my calling!'
'It's not too late,' I remind her.
'I know!' she gives me a megawatt smile. 'The Dyspraxia Foundation isn’t going to know what's hit them when I get back!'
'Then you're staying with them?' My heart boings with joy.
'I'll leave when I feel I've really achieved something,' Zoë tells me, looking uncharacteristically virtuous. 'I haven't given them all I have to give yet.'
'Oh, Zoë,' I cheer.
‘Don't, I'll cry and we've got a special guest of honor coming, I don't want to mess up my make-up!'
'Not Eddie Powers?' I gawk.
'Noooo!' Zoë tuts. 'Although maybe I should've got him along to do a tune – he could have sung Wild Thing every time someone made a donation …'
'It should really be Tom Jones singing What's New Pussycat?' I joke.
'Or better yet, the Stray Cats!' Zoë counters.
'What about the Super Furry Animals?' I hoot.
Zoë's creativity is contagious. Maybe if I brainstorm long enough I'll come up with a solution for the B&B. Just a few hours to go before I have to call Mum. I am so in denial.
'Zoë! Can you find Ty and get him to turn on the floodlights – people are starting to arrive!' Sasha swirls past, again at 100mph.
'What can I do?' I grab Zoë before she tears off.
'See if you can get any of the guests to adopt a cat – they'd get full visitation rights and get to feed them the food that they purchase!'
'Will do!’
‘Get Helen to help you!' Zoë calls back.
I take a moment to get my head around the evening's event. It's a much bigger deal than I imagined. I think I was just expecting a handful of potential sponsors, like Carrie's contacts from San Francisco – apparently they're here somewhere … Carrie herself is over at the makeshift photo booth setting up the backdrop so people can get a Polaroid with Theo or Maxine in return for a $10 donation. I'm definitely getting one of those. Maybe I'll get it framed and label it 'The California Cub'!
I sigh. I wish I could feel I'd made more of a contribution. Still the night is young and judging by the people streaming through the gates there's a good many guests to accost. I'll get a donation out of them even if I have to pick their pockets.
In amongst the strangers I recognize the odd face – particularly odd in the case of the neighbors from Zoë's apartment building. Then there's Todd and Betty from the diner, Sunset sheathed in tiger-striped sequins and – my heart does a quick loop-the-loop – Joel.
'Lara,' he purrs. 'How's my little sex kitten?’
‘I'm fabulous!' I'm surprised to hear myself say. I could’ve sworn I was miserable.
‘Nice outfit!' He eyes the pair of pawprints faux-tattooed ju
st above my cleavage in homage to rapper Eve.
'You like?' I peer down at them. 'I used real tiger paws to make the print.'
'Oh really? How about we use my real hands on your—' He goes to grab my rear.
'Joel!' I stop him with a hearty shove.
He grabs me into a hug. 'So tell me, did the cat get the cream?'
My face falls. 'If you mean Elliot, no, she didn't.'
He heaves a dissatisfied sigh. 'That's no good. I'm going to have to have a word. Where is he?'
'No idea. Nobody knows.'
'Really? I can't believe I was wrong about him – about the two of you. I'm never wrong—'
'Joel!' Three older guys sporting baseball hats, beards and beer bellies bowl up. Judging from the assortment of movie logos they're sporting they're Hollywood big shots. (Just as well they're wearing the logos or the diner starlets wouldn't know to fawn over them.)
‘These are my friends,' Joel seems to be using inverted commas around the word friends. I suspect he means: These are the richest guys I know.
I shake hands with them all. One of them says, 'Nice tats!'
I force a smile. 'The bar is over to the right,' I usher them through.
Gosh it's good to see Joel. Every time we part I think it's going to be for the last time. And every time it's not just feels such a bonus.
There's a small cough in my ear. 'Ms Russell?'
I recognize that Russian rumble – Boris!
'Hello, honey!' he greets me with raised arms as if about to do a jig. 'Please, I want you to meet my daughter Natasha…’
'Hello,' I smile at the striking woman beside him. 'Thank you so much for coming.'
She smiles warmly back. 'I am so pleased to be here!'
'And this is little Cory, my grandson.'
'Are you Zoë?' he gawps up at me.
'No, I'm her friend Lara,' I tell him. 'Do you want to say hello to her?’ I beckon Zoë over: she's looking kid-friendly as ever with a bottle of beer in each hand.
'Are you Cory?' she asks, homing straight in on him.
He nods back wide-eyed, instantly as smitten at his grandfather.
'So you two are brothers, right?' she teases, pointing between Cory and Boris.
'Noooooo!' he gurgles.
'Oh! So you must be his dad!' Zoë addresses Cory.
'Noooo! I'm his grandson!' Cory asserts.
'Ohhh! My mistake. You look very grown up for your age, how old are you again?'
'Seven!' he states proudly.
'Same age as me!' Zoë whoops.
'No you're not!' Cory protests, twisting around in delight.’
‘Okay, maybe I'm a little bit older but not much. Do you want get your picture taken with a tiger cub?'
Cory looks to Boris for approval.
'Of course. Yes! Yes!' Boris encourages him.
'Where is it?' Cory claps excitedly.
'Over here. Shall I lead the way?'
'Will you get one too?' Cory needs to know.
'I will if you'll be in it with me,' Zoë tells him. 'I'm a bit scared of tigers. Are you?'
'Don't be silly – they're just baby ones!' he reprimands her.
‘Oh okay. If you say it's going to be fine, I'll do it.’
An hour later Zoë returns, beaming. 'I'm in love with Cory!'
'I think the feeling's mutual!' I smile.
'He's got the best manners, that kid – how often can you say that these days?'
'Almost never,' I admit.
'And he's so smart. Boris said he's been asking a million questions about tigers and now he's got it all down pat, like a mini Rainman! Apparently he's like that about basketball – knows everything there is to know.' Zoë takes a swig of beer and looks contemplative. 'It breaks my heart that kids like that get ridiculed for being different.'
'Lucky he's got such a great family,' I note.
Zoë nods. 'Shame he's an only child – I know this boy back in England, William, he was diagnosed with dyspraxia really young and he has an older brother Alistair who must be twelve now and he's just so bright, always reading, but at the same time has all this life energy and you know what boys that age are normally like about having to hang out with their younger siblings, but not Alistair. He totally embraces William. Apparently his dad, who dotes on the pair of them, made an agreement with him – he'd cut him some slack provided he watches out for William. And he does. You know that no matter what, he has William's back. No fuss, no complaints, it's just second nature to him because it's his brother.' Zoë's voice quavers. 'You should see them together!'
'I'd like to,' I say. I mean it. ‘We should try and see more of each other when we get back.’
‘I was just thinking that!' she nods vigorously.
'How about once a month you come to me, once a month I come to you?' I suggest.
'Sounds great,' Zoë approves, then nudges me. 'Sister!'
I smile and hug her tight. We're back in each other's lives! Not that we were ever really gone but all the same, I wouldn't want to keep drifting as we had been – on the rare occasion we would meet up we'd spend all our time reminiscing. Now we have so much new stuff to discuss.
Suddenly I frown. 'I didn't realize Josh Hartnett had made any animal movies,' I muse over Zoë's shoulder as an extremely convincing lookalike loafs past.
'He hasn't. But as co–organizer I get a few perks,' Zoë winks.
'He's good, that guy – got the hair mussed up just right, same look of poetic purity in his eyes …'
'That's cos he's the real thing.'
I look at her.
'He's the guest of honor I mentioned.'
I blink in disbelief.
‘Boris knew the make–up artist working on his current movie,' Zoë explains.
'You're saying that's the real Josh Hartnett?' She's got to be kidding.
'Yes! Shola asked him along and he said, Why not! Thought it was a good cause.'
'You sound so blasé!' I reel. 'How come you're not dangling from his neck, trying to get him to do his amazing shy-boy smile?'
Zoë shrugs. 'He's cool but I prefer his lookalike …' On cue, she waves across at Josh number two, currently opening a bottle of beer with his teeth.
'His name's Chip,' she sighs as he gives an extended burp.
'Oh my god, he's like white trash Josh!' I gawp. 'You chose that doofus over the real thing?'
'He's too clever.'
'Who's too clever?' I bleat.
'The real Josh – too deep, too wise, old head on young shoulders – all that stuff.'
'Really?’
‘If you spoke to him, you'd know what I mean. He hasn’t got that "it's all about me" thing going that movie stars are supposed to have. He's all questing and thoughtful and was talking about writers I've never heard of.'
'And that's a bad thing?'
'It is for me. It makes me feel all unread and unworthy. I mean I like a doofus but I don't want to be one!'
I burst out laughing. 'Zoë you're crazy!'
'It's all about what's right for you, not what everybody else wants,' she asserts.
'How much have you had to drink?'
'Not enough! Watch this – Honey, can you open a beer for me?' she calls over to Chip.
I can't bear to watch so I go in search of Sasha.
'I can't believe no one has adopted Ryan,' she sighs, leaning against my favorite guy's cage.
'You're kidding? I thought he'd be the number one choice – he's a liger after all!' I look at Ryan with ever-loving respect – he's so regal and yet so magnificently moth-eaten, like a once moneyed lord fallen on hard times.
‘Maybe because I made him a star attraction people assume he's already snapped up?'
'Oh no!' I wail. 'Listen if I do have to sell the B&B he'll be my first beneficiary.'
'It's okay, I mean the main thing is raising enough money for Paradise Park. He can be my next project.'
'Next?' I query. As of tonight, Sasha doesn't officially work at Tiger Ti
ger any more.
'I think I'm going to hang out for a bit, you know, after our week in San Diego. There's nothing for me to hurry back to.'
'And everything to stay for,' I smile.
Sasha nods, then looks earnestly at me: 'So it's still up in the air is it, the B&B?'
'I'm just waiting for a small miracle to occur – any minute now!' I look around, searching for a sign. 'Hey, isn't that the movie director from the Hotel Del?' I'd recognize those fleshy lobes anywhere.
'Yes it is,' Sasha confirms with a wince.
He's currently being crowded by lookalikes Val Kilmer and Michael Douglas (The Ghost & The Darkness) but his eyes are straying to a statuesque blonde in a
rabbit – skin bikini.
'I don't know why I bothered, he hasn't contributed a penny,' Sasha grumbles.
'Not yet,' I decide. 'Try charging him $1,000 for Sheena Queen of the Jungle's phone number – that should work!'
'Good idea.' Sasha takes me at my word.
I chuckle. There is no stopping that woman now. How nice that I'll have two best friends to visit when I next come to California. Three, if you count Joel …
'You're not going to believe what he just did!' Zoë comes romping up to me.
'Who?'
'Joel!' she shrieks. 'He told me he was writing out a check for $10,000 just to make his buddies cough up and then when I went to tot up the box of donations his check was in there along with all the others! Can you believe that guy?' Zoë skips on her way.
I look over to where he's chatting easily to Todd and Tarzan's Jane. I never cease to be amazed how beautifully he has fitted into my life. Well, my Californian life, anyway …
Catching me looking at him, he smiles and excuses himself, holding my gaze as he saunters over.
'What are you up to, minx?' he asks, chipping my chin with his finger.
'Nothing!' I grin. 'Just feeling grateful for knowing you.'
'I'm grateful I got to know you too.'
I replay his words in my head then ask, 'Do I detect an element of finality in that sentence?'
He bites his lip then nods. 'I’ll be leaving tomorrow.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I know it sounds kind of extreme but I always wanted to go climbing in the Himalayas…'
'My god, Joel!' I gasp.
The California Club: LoveTravel Series - USA Page 35