Shopaholic to the Rescue (27 page)

“I don’t get involved,” says Raymond, his face expressionless. “We lost touch.”

“But you still take the money,” I say pointedly.

“So does your dad,” returns Raymond, equally pointedly. “He still gets his dividend, as far as I know.”

My racing thoughts are brought up short. My dad. The money. The dividend. Why did he never tell us about this? He told us everything else about that holiday, over and over. Why did he leave out the best bit?

I’m sure Mum doesn’t know any of this. She would have said. Which means…He’s been keeping it secret,
all these years
?

I feel a bit hot. My dad is the most open, straightforward person in the world. Why would he keep a massive great secret like this?

“Bex, didn’t you know anything about it?” says Suze in a low voice.

“Nothing.”

“Why would your dad hide something like that?”

“I have no idea. It’s weird.”

“Is your dad secretly a billionaire?” Her eyes widen.

“No! No. He can’t be!”

“I don’t think Corey sends your dad much,” says Raymond, who’s blatantly listening in. “It’s more of a token between friends. A few thousand dollars, maybe.”

A few thousand dollars…every year…And, like a flash, it hits me. The BB. Dad’s Big Bonus.

He’s had these bonuses my whole life. He’s always told us they come from consultancy work and has taken us out for treats, and we’ve all raised a glass to him. Do the big bonuses come…from Corey?

I look at Suze, and I can see she’s had the same idea.

“The BB,” she says.

One year Suze was staying with us when Dad got it, and he bought her a Lulu Guinness bag, even though she kept saying, “Mr. Bloomwood, you mustn’t!”

“The BB.” I nod. “I think that’s it. It’s not consultancy. It’s this spring.”

My head is spinning. I need to talk this out. My dad has a whole secret thing going on. Why didn’t he
tell
us?

“Does Corey
know
Brent was evicted?” Suze is asking Raymond.

There’s a pause. Raymond shifts around a little in his chair and stares out the window. “I believe your dad told him. I believe your dad was appealing to Corey for a financial settlement for Brent.”

“So that’s what he’s been trying to ‘put right.’ ” I glance at Suze.
Now
it’s all starting to make sense. “And what did Corey say?”

“I believe Corey refused.”

“But you didn’t get involved?”

Raymond gazes steadily back at me. “Not my life.”

I can’t believe how much I loathe this man. He’s just bowed out. Looked the other way. It’s all right for him, living off his lucky investment, with his pottery and his ranch and his messy house. What about Brent? Brent who probably doesn’t even
have
a house?

Tears have started in my eyes. I feel so proud of my dad, standing up for his old friend, trying to right this wrong.

“Doesn’t Corey feel
guilty
?” persists Suze. “Weren’t you all supposed to be friends?”

“Well. It’s more complicated than that with Brent and Corey.” Raymond steeples his fingers. “It all goes back, you see.”

“To what?”

“Well, I guess you could say it goes back to Rebecca.”

Both Suze and I inhale sharply. I feel my skin prickling all over.
Rebecca
.

“Who…what…” My voice isn’t working properly.

“We need to know who Rebecca is,” chimes in Suze firmly. “We need to know what this is all about. Start from the beginning and don’t leave out a single detail.”

She sounds just a
teensy
bit bossy, and I see irritation sweep over Raymond’s face.

“I’m not starting anywhere,” he lashes back. “I’m tired of rehashing the past. If you want to know about Rebecca, ask your dad.”

“But you have to tell us!” protests Suze.

“I don’t have to do anything. I’ve told you enough. Interview over.” He gets up, and before I know what’s happening, he’s grabbed
Twice
out of my hands. “Now, put down my piece,” he says, glowering at Suze. “And leave my property before I call the police.”

He looks quite menacing, and I gulp. Actually, it might be time to go. But as I get up from the sofa, I can’t help shooting him my most scornful look.

“Well, thanks for filling us in on the story. I’m glad you can sleep at night.”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye.” He jerks a thumb at the door. “Hey, Maria!” he adds in a yell.

“Wait! One more thing. Do you have
any
idea where my dad might be?”

There’s silence, and I can see in Raymond’s eyes the thoughts passing through his mind.

“You tried Rebecca?” he says at last—and again I feel a weird little zing at hearing my own name.

“No! Don’t you understand? We don’t know anything about Rebecca. Not her surname or where she lives—”

“Rebecca Miades,” he cuts me off shortly. “Lives in Sedona, about two hundred and fifty miles north of here. Your dad was talking about contacting her. She was there that night, see? She saw how the idea was born.”

She was
there
? Why didn’t he mention that before? I’m about to ask more—but before I can draw breath, the housekeeper arrives.

“Maria, show these girls out,” says Raymond. “Don’t let them take anything.”

Honestly. We’re not
thieves.

And then, without another word, he opens the far door and stalks out of the studio into the yard. I can see him taking out a pipe and lighting it. I meet Suze’s eyes and I can tell we’re both thinking the same thing:
What an awful, awful man
.

—

My phone’s been on the whole time in my pocket. Which means, assuming that the signal was OK, Mum must have heard at least some of the conversation. I can’t quite face seeing her yet, so as soon as we’ve got through Raymond’s gates, I find a bare patch of ground and flop down. I text Luke:
All fine, on way,
and then sink back on the scrubby earth and look up at the huge blue sky.

I feel a bit overwhelmed, to be honest. I’m proud of my dad, trying to help out his old friend—but I’m kind of perplexed too. Why wouldn’t he tell us the truth? Why would he invent some “bonus”? Why the
mystery,
for God’s sake?

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” says Suze, echoing my thoughts. “We
have
to go to Sedona now.”

“I suppose so,” I say after a pause. Although the truth is, I’m a teeny bit over chasing my dad round the country.

I have a pang of longing for simple family life at home in Oxshott. Watching the telly and praising Mum for some Marks & Spencer ready meal and arguing over whether Princess Anne should cut her hair.

“I get that Dad wanted to make things right for Brent,” I say, still gazing at the blueness. “But why didn’t he
tell
us?”

“No idea,” admits Suze, after a pause. “The whole thing is just weird.” She sounds fairly wiped out too, and for a while we’re quiet, breathing in the arid air, feeling the American sun on our faces. There’s something about that great big sky. I feel a million miles from anyone. I feel like things are clearing in my head.

“This has been splitting us up too much,” I say suddenly. “This whole affair, everyone’s been split up. My mum and dad, you and Tarkie, my dad and me—we’re all splintering away into separate bits, with secrets and misunderstandings and confusion. It’s horrible. I don’t want to be separate anymore. I want to be
solid
. I want to be
together
.” I raise myself on one elbow. “I’m going to Sedona, Suze. I’m going to find my dad. Whatever he’s doing, whatever his plan is, he can do it with us alongside. Because we’re a
family
.”

“He can do it with me too,” says Suze at once. “I’m your best friend. I’m practically family. So count me in.”

“Count me in too,” comes a voice, and Luke appears round the bend in the road, holding Minnie by the hand. “We wondered where you’d got to,” he says mildly. “Darling, you can’t just go AWOL.”

“We haven’t gone AWOL; we’re making plans.”

“So I hear.” Luke meets my gaze with warm eyes. “And, like I say, count me in.”

“Count us both in,” says Janice eagerly, hurrying behind him. “I’m practically family, love. You’re right—it sounds like your dad needs a bit of moral support.”

“You can count me in too,” says Danny, appearing from behind Janice. “We heard the whole story over the phone. Jeez, that Corey! What a scumbag! And Raymond’s not much better. But your dad rocks. We should totally help him.”

He’s so animated, I feel a sudden tug at my heart. Danny’s an important person with a big career. He doesn’t have to be here. No one has to be here, in some remote corner of Arizona, focusing on an injustice that happened to my dad’s friend a long time ago. I mean, really. People must have better things to do, surely? But as I look around, I see a bank of such eager, loving faces, it makes me blink a little.

“Well…thanks,” I manage. “My dad would really appreciate this.”

“Becky?” We all look round and I see Janice wincing. Mum is trudging along the side of the road, and I can tell she’s in a bit of a state. Poor Mum. Her face is pink and her hair is askew.

“Why would he lie?” she says simply, and I can hear the hurt crackling through her voice.

“I don’t know, Mum,” I say hopelessly. “I’m sure he’ll explain….”

Mum’s hands are twisting at her pearls. Her Big Bonus pearls. Or do we still call them that?

“So we’re going to Sedona now?” She seems a bit defeated, as though she wants me to take the lead.

“Yes.” I nod. “It’s our best way of finding Dad.”

Plus—I don’t say this—it’s my best way of getting to meet my anti-namesake, Rebecca. And, honestly, I cannot
wait
.

THIRTEEN

Oh my God. Why didn’t I know about Sedona before? Why did no one tell me? It’s breathtaking. It’s…indescribable.

Well, all right, not literally indescribable. You can describe it. You can say,
There are these huge red sandstone rocks everywhere, jutting up from the desert, making you feel all tiny and insignificant.
You can say,
There’s a kind of rawness to the landscape which gives you goosebumps.
You can say,
There’s a solitary bird of prey hanging above us, high in the sky, which seems to put all of humankind into perspective.

You can say all that. But it’s not the same as being there.

“Look at—” I keep pointing, and Danny will chime in: “I know!”

“Oh my God! The—”

“I know. It’s awesome!”

For once, the anxiety has lessened in Suze’s face. Mum and Janice are staring out of the opposite window and exclaiming to each other too. In fact, everyone seems uplifted by the landscape.

We stayed another night in Wilderness in the end, because Luke said there was no point dashing off to Sedona that day and we all needed a decent night’s sleep. Suze spent about two hours Skyping her children back in L.A., and then Minnie and I joined in and we played “Skype charades,” which is actually a very good game. I know Suze is longing for home life. She’s desperately miserable and I don’t think she’s sleeping. She
still
hasn’t heard from Tarkie, or about this stupid tree, which seems really crap on the part of her parents and the head groundsman. I’ve actually been quite angry on her behalf. I mean, can’t
one
of them call her back?

Except, when I pressed her on it, she admitted that she’d only left super-casual messages, because she was paranoid that otherwise they’d guess it was all about her marriage. So they probably think they can leave it till she returns to the UK.
Honestly
.

And, meanwhile, she’s in a total state. I can practically
see
the worry cranking round her veins. She needs to know the answer now. Surely
somebody
could help—

Ooh. Wait a minute. I’ve had a sudden idea.

Surreptitiously, I fire off a quick email, hiding my phone under a magazine so Suze doesn’t ask what I’m doing. It’s a total long shot…but you never know. I press S
END
, then put my phone away and focus again on the spectacular views.

Today we’ve been driving since the crack of dawn, which makes about five hours on the road, including a stop for early lunch. The sky has that very blue middle-of-the-day intensity, and I’m dying for a cup of tea.

Our destination is the High View Resort. According to the website, it has
floor-to-ceiling red-rock views,
plus it’s
only moments away from the chic shops and galleries of uptown Sedona.
But that’s not why we’re heading there. We’re heading there because the in-house meditation leader and new-age guide is—guess who? Rebecca Miades.

There’s even a head shot of her on the website, which I
haven’t
shown to Mum. Because it turns out that this Rebecca is very pretty, especially for a woman of her age. She has all this fantastic long hair, dyed pinky-red. And quite an intense sexy stare.

Not that it’s relevant whether she’s pretty or not. I mean, I’m sure Dad…I’m
sure
…

I don’t know quite where I’m going with this. Let’s just say, I don’t think Mum needs to see that photo.