He was already moving out of the room, not bothering to look back, and Amber started to follow him; there was nothing else to do. She turned her head and met Skye’s gaze. If Skye could have killed her with that look, she would have done. Her blue eyes were cold as ice, narrowed into slits of hate.
‘I can’t believe you,’ she mouthed at Amber.
‘I’m sorry!’ Amber mouthed back helplessly.
Skye jumped off the sofa, grabbing her bag. On her high wedge heels, she stalked to the door, shoving past Amber in the corridor.
‘Backstabber!’ she hissed at Amber as their paths crossed, just loud enough for Amber to hear.
Amber stared miserably after her.
Every time the two of us make friends, we mess it up, she thought sadly. And I don’t blame Skye at all. I’d be furious if I were in her shoes. Maybe we’re just destined to be enemies . . .
L
inda was sobbing so loudly that Petal could hear her well before she walked into her bedroom. Petal paused in the doorway, wincing at the sight of her mother. Most of Linda’s makeup had smeared onto the pillowcases, and what was left on her face was a disaster; her mascara had worked its way into the bags beneath her eyes, and her eyeliner was halfway down her cheeks.
‘Oh, it’s just you,’ she said disconsolately, flopping back down again on seeing Petal.
‘That’s nice, Mum,’ Petal said drily. ‘Who were you expecting? Robert Pattinson, dropping in to say hi and would you like a bite on the neck?’
‘
Bobby!
’ wailed Linda into the pillows, thumping the mattress with both her fists. ‘I want Bobby to come back!’
‘Mum . . .’ Petal sat down on the side of the bed. ‘Bobby isn’t coming back,’ she said, as gently as she could. ‘He packed up everything when he went.’
Bobby hadn’t walked out the night the
Cougar Hunt
pilot had been shown at the Lizard Room. He’d hedged his bets, waiting a few days, until the pilot aired on VH1; when the reviews, the next day, were universally hostile, the ratings disastrous, he’d cut his losses and left.
It had been an awful scene. Petal had hidden in the pool house, but she hadn’t been able to avoid seeing parts of it. Linda had beseeched Bobby not to go, grabbed his stuff so he couldn’t take it, then started to throw things in the pool when it was clear she couldn’t change his mind.
‘I thought he loved me!’ she wept pathetically now.
‘Mum, you met on a
reality show
,’ Petal said, beginning to lose patience.
‘It could happen!’ Linda raised her head again, staring at her daughter, her face so grotesquely smeared with makeup now that it was all Petal could do not to flinch back. ‘Two of the couples who met on
The Bachelor
got married! At least two! And some on
The Bachelorette
as well!’
‘Yeah, but aren’t those programmes people go on to find a serious relationship?’ Petal said. ‘I mean, your show was called
Cougar Hunt
.’
Linda scrabbled her way to the headboard, pulling herself up and sitting against it, an armful of pillows clutched in her lap for comfort, staring with hostility at her daughter.
‘This is
your
fault,’ she said accusingly.
‘What?’ Petal was genuinely amazed.
‘This is all your fault! You brought me bad luck! Everything was going fine before you came along!
Better
than fine! I had a TV show, a hunky boyfriend – and look at me now!’
‘I’d rather not,’ Petal muttered.
‘
What
did you say?’ Linda yelled.
‘Mum –’ Petal swallowed – ‘you look a total mess. Can we get you into the bathroom, wash your face, at least—’
‘I’m never getting out of bed again! You can’t make me!’ Linda wept, switching with terrifying speed from Outraged Parent to Sobbing Child.
‘Mum,’ Petal said with increasing desperation, ‘we’ve got an appointment with that Michelle woman from VH1 this afternoon, about doing a reality show together. You know, a mother and daughter show? Going out in LA, getting to know each other?’
Ugh, it turns my stomach just to say that rubbish, let alone imagine actually doing it. But I have to get Mum out of bed somehow, and God knows, we could do with the money
. . .
‘Fuck VH1!’ Linda screamed, hurling one of the pillows at the closest mirrored wardrobe door, which rattled ominously on impact. ‘Fuck VH1, fuck Michelle, and fuck you! I’m not going
anywhere
!’
She collapsed in a heap again, wailing so loudly that Petal began to get a tension headache.
Before rehab I’d have gone into the bathroom to see if she had any pills I could give her to calm down, Petal reflected as she stood up. But after seeing the state Amber was in, I’m shit-scared of anti-depressants now . . .
‘I’ll make you a cup of tea,’ she said rather hopelessly, leaving the bedroom. Even shutting the door behind her didn’t do much to block out the sound of Linda’s moans of grief.
Tea, however, was not on the agenda, or not in the form Petal had meant – a proper cup of British tea, strong enough, hopefully, to help Linda pull herself together. They were out of milk, and since Petal couldn’t drive, there was no way for her to get more; the shops were literally miles away, and there was no public transport anywhere close by. She’d heard that LA cops arrested you if they saw you out walking, and while she didn’t quite believe that, she wasn’t up for a long sweaty trek in the blazing sunshine, especially as she had only the roughest idea where the closest strip mall was.
The kitchen was pretty much a disaster area. Linda seemed to live off cornflakes – eaten straight out of the packet – Pirate’s Booty Veggie Puffs, and frozen edamame. In the glory days with Bobby, there had been fruit shakes and fat-free Frappuccinos, which at least balanced the frozen margaritas they’d whizzed up in the blender every afternoon; but now the food had pretty much run out, together with Linda’s José Cuervo Margarita Mix, and Petal was getting desperate.
Sitting down on one of the kitchen stools, Petal pulled her mobile out of her pocket and rang her father’s private line.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought as the phone began to ring. I can’t believe I’m actually ringing Gold – my dad – for help.
But it’s about time he started acting like a proper father.
She cracked a small, wry smile.
Hey, thank you for the insight, Dr Raf.
‘Yes?’ snapped a woman’s voice, picking up the phone. ‘Who is this?’
Lovely manners
.
‘Hi, Jinhee,’ she said politely. ‘It’s Petal. How are you? Can I speak to my dad, please?’
There was a moment of silence as Jinhee absorbed Petal’s words.
‘
Gold
,’ she said pointedly, ‘is getting dressed to go out for the evening.’
‘Well, I need to speak to him,’ Petal said. ‘It’s an emergency.’
‘
Really?
’ Jinhee sneered. ‘Have you been arrested? Or sold some more photos to the tabloids?’
Petal took a deep breath. ‘Actually, no,’ she said, managing to keep her voice reasonably level. ‘It’s a problem with my mum. I need to talk to my dad about it.’
Jinhee was one of those women who preferred to think that her man’s life had begun the moment she met him; she disliked Petal on principle, as a living reminder that Gold had been married before, and made a policy of pretending that Linda did not exist. So there was a longer pause as Jinhee registered Petal’s reference to her mother.
What can I do? Petal thought crossly. If you didn’t want me ever to talk about my mum, you shouldn’t have sent me out to LA and put her down as my emergency contact, should you? I mean, it wasn’t my dad who organized all that, was it?
‘I really don’t want to disturb him for something trivial,’ Jinhee finally said icily.
‘This isn’t trivial!’ Petal’s voice rose, despite her best efforts. ‘It’s an
emergency
, my mum’s having a
meltdown
, and I need to talk to
my dad
!’
The line went dead. For a moment, Petal thought that Jinhee had cut her off, and her blood started to boil; then she realized that there was no loud beeping that would mean that Jinhee had hung up on her.
Eventually, Gold’s unmistakable tenor drawl said: ‘Petal? What’s all this about your mother? I have an awards ceremony to go to.’
‘She’s having a total meltdown,’ Petal blurted out. ‘Yelling and crying and throwing a fit. It’s been going on for days now. I can’t get her out of bed, and we need to go out – we need to go shopping—’
‘Surely you have enough clothes, Petal,’ Gold said wearily.
‘No, Dad! For food! We need to get, you know, milk and stuff! There’s nothing in the house!’
Petal held her breath, not quite believing that she’d called Gold ‘Dad’, totally unsure whether she’d get away with it.
Gold sighed heavily. ‘Petal, I really can’t be bothered with this kind of petty detail—’
‘It’s not petty!’ Petal tried to calm down, but without much success. ‘I’m starting to get really worried about her! Her show’s doing really badly, but the producers still want us to go in to see them this afternoon, which is pretty much a miracle, considering, and she won’t get out of bed, not even to wash! She’s beginning to
pong
!’
‘Petal . . .’ Gold drew a long, deep breath. ‘I’ve been studying kabbala recently, and there’s a great deal of wisdom in those ancient texts, you know? There’s a kabbala centre in Los Angeles, obviously. I think you might derive a lot of benefit from taking some of its courses.’
‘Have you been hanging out with Madonna again? I thought she was dead to you after she took your solo on that charity single.’
‘Kabbala says that there are no coincidences in life,’ Gold continued as smoothly as if she hadn’t interrupted him. ‘And especially not when it comes to the family. They have this fascinating concept called
tikun
. I don’t remember what the exact translation is, but it’s basically about the fact that you’re born into your family for a really good reason. Your soul chooses your parents specifically because they present a series of obstacles that you have to overcome in order to achieve your divine purpose in life.’
Petal was clutching the phone so hard her fingers were hurting. ‘OK, whatever, but I don’t get—’
‘Petal, in simple language,’ he said patronizingly, ‘you chose Linda as your mother. Your soul chose her before you were born, because working through your relationship with her is exactly what you need to do in order to fully experience the change that you need to reach your full potential.’
‘Oh, really?’ Petal said sarcastically. ‘My soul must have been on drugs that day.’
‘
Petal
,’ Gold sighed patiently, ‘you have to
embrace
Linda.
Accept
her. Work through her problems with her. And then you’ll look back and realize how crucial doing that work was to your future achievements.’
‘You know what,
Dad
?’ Petal snapped. ‘That’s total bollocks. I’m stranded out here in a town where I don’t know anyone, with a mother who’s losing her mind. Telling me to embrace her is bullshit.
I’m
not the one who chose her.
You
did. And you made a kid with her, which means that you have some sodding responsibility for this whole sodding mess!’ She was panting with fury by now.
‘It means “correction”!’ Gold exclaimed, as if he hadn’t just heard his daughter’s last words. ‘I just remembered – that’s what
tikun
means! It’s a necessary correction to steer you on the right course in life. And, Petal, I’ve always asked you to call me Gold – can you respect that, please?’
‘If I
chose
you as my father, though fuck knows why I would have done,’ Petal said through gritted teeth, ‘I can call you Dad, or Pops, or anything the fuck I like. You’re about as much help as a sieve in a rainstorm.
And
, let me tell you, that whole kabbala bullshit about choosing your parents is incredibly offensive to people whose parents, like, bullied them or abused them or something. You should think about that.’
She had actually managed to stem the flow of kabbala for a moment. That’s told him, she thought triumphantly. And then the line clicked, and Jinhee came on.
‘Petal? Your father’s given me the phone. We have to leave the house in ten minutes. You’ll just have to sort things out with Linda as best you can,’ she said, every word dripping icy satisfaction.
‘Fine!’ Petal yelled. ‘You can both fuck off! Good riddance to bad rubbish! I’ll manage on my own from now on!’
It’s really annoying that you can’t slam down phones any more, she thought, furiously pressing the Off key. She had to wrestle the temptation to throw the phone across the room and watch it splinter into shiny Swarovski-studded plastic pieces. Instead, her chest heaving with anger, she dropped the phone on the counter, ducked her head and ran her hands through her hair.
I’ve got to handle this, she told herself. I told that cow I’d manage on my own. I can’t go crawling back to her and Dad now.
Petal raised her head and caught sight of herself in the chipped mirror tiles behind the built-in bar. Her jaw was set, her eyes were determined, her lips were pressed together with resolve; with the primrose-yellow hair, the black-and-white striped Kate Moss from Top Shop dress she was wearing, and her signature black eyeliner standing out like a mask against her white skin, she looked like a killer punk from a Quentin Tarantino film.
Good. I definitely want to look scary right now.
She marched back down the corridor and threw open the door of Linda’s room with such force that it bounced against the wall behind it.
‘Mum?’ she said, hands on hips. ‘No more lying in bed feeling sorry for yourself. We’ve got a meeting in three hours, and you’re driving us there. So you can either get out of bed and start getting ready by yourself, or I’m going to pull you out, drag you into the bathroom and hold you under the shower till you’re clean.’
She glared so hard at her mother’s recumbent body she was amazed her eyes didn’t burn through the duvet Linda had shrouded herself in.
‘Your choice.’
‘Petal! Linda!’ Michelle Lee-Glazer waved at Petal and her mother from the patio of the Ivy just as enthusiastically as if Linda’s show weren’t tanking faster than the
Titanic
.