Shopaholic to the Stars

“She wants to talk to you, darling,” says Dad, handing the phone back to me. He seems quite unruffled by Mum’s tirade.

“Why won’t he tell me what he’s doing?” Mum’s voice blasts in my ear. “He keeps saying he’s got ‘something to sort out’ with that Brent Lewis. I’ve Googled him, you know. Can’t find anything. You said he lives in a trailer. Did you actually meet him?”

“No.” I glance at Dad, who’s sipping tea now.

“Well, keep an eye on Dad.”

“I will.”

“And I’m coming out, as soon as I can make arrangements. It would be the same time as the church bazaar.” Mum gives a gusty sigh. “I preferred the guitar lessons to this. At least he did them in the garage.”

As I put the phone down, I turn to Dad and see that he’s looking at my necklace with a kind of rueful expression. It’s the Alexis Bittar one that he got me with his BB.

“I love this,” I say, touching it. “I wear it all the time.”

“Do you, darling? That’s good.” He smiles, but there’s something wrong in his smile. I want to scream. What is up?

He finishes his tea, then gets to his feet.

“I must be off.”

“But you’ve only just got here! Where are you going? To Brent’s trailer? Did you call his sister?”

“Becky, it’s my business.” He sounds final. “I’ll be back later.”

Nobody says anything until he’s left the kitchen—then everyone seems to breathe out.

“What is he doing?” I almost squeak with frustration.

“Like he said,” Luke comments, “that’s his business. Why don’t you leave him to it? Come on, poppet,” he adds to Minnie. “Teeth. Come on, you lot,” he adds to the Cleath-Stuarts. “You can all do your teeth too.”

“Thanks, Luke,” says Suze gratefully. As the children all pile out of the kitchen with Luke, Suze gives the most almighty sigh. She’s staring out of the window, and I can see a little frown between her brows that wasn’t there before.

“Are you OK?”

“I’m tired of L.A.,” she says. “It’s not good for us.”

I stare at her in astonishment. “Yes, it is! Look at you! You’re working as an extra, and Tarquin’s a total VIP, and you’re all thin and tanned, and—”

“It’s not good for us as a family.” She cuts me off. “In England, yes, we had loads of headaches, but we dealt with them together. I feel like I’m losing Tarkie.” Her voice suddenly wobbles. “Bex, I don’t know him anymore.”

To my horror, her eyes are welling up with tears.

“Suze!” I rush over and give her a hug. “You mustn’t worry! He’s just going through a funny patch. He’s finding himself.”

“But he doesn’t talk to me! He looks at me as though I’m the enemy!” Suze gives a shaky sigh. “Bex, when the children are at school, d’you feel like going for a walk and just chatting? We could go to Runyon Canyon, maybe have lunch.…”

“Suze, I would,” I say regretfully. “But I’ve got to go shopping for Sage’s outfit.”

An odd flicker passes over Suze’s face. “Right.” She breathes out. “Of course. You have to go shopping.”

“It’s not shopping for me!” I say, stung. “I have my TV segment coming up! I have to source pieces for Sage! I have to go to vintage shops and build up some relationships! It’s a massive job. Suze, this is my big chance. This is it!”

“Of course it is,” she says, in a tone I can’t quite read.

“Another time?”

“Another time.” She nods and gets up from the table.

I’m left alone in the kitchen with Jeff, and I glance over at him. He’s sitting in silence, staring implacably ahead, but even so, I feel judged.

“I do have to go shopping,” I say defensively. “This is my big chance to be a Hollywood stylist.”

Jeff says nothing. But I know he’s judging me. They’re all judging me.

This is what it’s like to be a celebrity. Your family doesn’t understand. No one understands. No wonder they say it’s lonely at the top.

On the plus side, it turns out that shopping for a movie star is the perfect way to shop. I just wish I’d known a movie star before.

There’s the most fab vintage shop on Melrose Avenue, and the owner, Marnie, is absolutely on my wavelength. By midmorning I’ve been on the fastest, most efficient shopping spree of my life. I’ve bought three new clutch bags, two stoles, and a vintage diamanté headdress. I’ve got three evening coats on hold, and five dresses, and this fantastic velvet cloak, which, if Sage doesn’t want, I am totally getting for myself. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">