The California Club (8 page)

'Is it Helen?' I gently enquire.

'No! Of course not! Why would it be?' she reels. 'I'm really happy to see her!'

'Me too, it's just …' I hesitate before shuffling out on to a limb. 'It's just thrown me a bit how much things have changed for her.'

I check for a smidgeon of empathy on Sasha's face, find it, and proceed.

'She's the last person I expected to have some kind of life epiphany. I mean, it's really exciting and I'm so pleased she's met someone but it was always us two who never had a boyfriend and now she's got one and—'

Sasha holds my gaze.

'I feel left behind,’ I finish.

‘Oh me too!' splurges Sasha. 'She looks so alive! Before I always felt something was missing from her life too. Like we were both going through the motions,' she sighs. 'We never actually spoke about it but I'd look at her and think something doesn't fit right, and now she just looks so complete and content.’

I've never felt more in common with Sasha than I do right now. To look at us as a group, you'd think she would be the number one having-it-all contender but Helen has trumped the lot of us.

'Are you afraid it's never going to happen for you?' I ask, brimming with empathy.

Sasha nods.

'It should make us feel better, shouldn't it? Like she's giving us hope!' I smile.

'I know, it's weird. I am pleased for her. But I'm also …' Sasha squints as she plays name-that-emotion.

'Jealous?' I suggest.

‘Not jealous exactly …' Sasha frowns.

'I am,' I confess.

'Oh me too!' Sasha wails. 'I hate myself for it. She totally deserves it.'

'She does,' I confirm. Funny how it still hurts.

'It's just …' Sasha looks wistful. 'I feel like I don't know her any more.'

'She's crossed over.'

'Become one of them.'

'The Happy People,' I gurgle.

'People with lives.'

'And we're still us.' We sigh in unison.

I lean against the marble wall, wondering what we do next. I didn't even know how bleak my life was until I saw Helen looking so vibrantly in her element. I was even reasonably resigned to losing the B&B – it seemed like too much work to fight for it. All I was interested in was coming on holiday and forgetting about it all. But now … Now I'm all at sea.

'Do you really think this California Club is the key?' Sasha queries.

‘There's definitely something to it,' I decide. 'You don't get that level of transformation just from a change in the weather!'

As soon as I've said it I disagree with myself. Of course all this sunshine could be the answer. Maybe Helen's found a way to liquefy it, so now pure radiance pumps through her veins.

'Whatever she's got, let's hope it's contagious!' I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

'Maybe she'll be able to give us a few clues on how to get it.' Sasha plays along.

'Yeah – we've got an insider on our side now. This is great!'

It's taking every ounce of my strength to try and jolly us up. Ordinarily this situation would qualify for a whole evening's wallowing and soul-searching but we need to buck ourselves up in a matter of minutes so we can put on a bright face for the others.

'It's not like there's only enough happiness in the world for a few people, is it?' Sasha asks, sounding a little uncertain.

'Of course not. There's an infinite supply!' I cheer.

'Yeah!' Sasha dries off her hands in an efficient 'glad we got that sorted' way.

‘You know what else – maybe we were holding each other back, thinking it was okay to stay the same because we weren't the only one,' I suggest. 'Maybe we didn't want to be the first ones to get a man or a life.'

'I guess a rut can get pretty cozy when your best friend's in it with you,' Sasha sighs.

'It's a theory,' I acknowledge. 'Now this could set us free!'

'Wow!' Sasha takes a moment to process the thought. 'Whatever has happened to Helen could be the best thing to ever happen to us.'

I know neither of us really believe it and that later our minds will weave back to our respective problems but it's good enough for now.

On the way to the terrace bar we go from navel-gazing to window-shopping – the lower level has a line of boutiques showcasing resort-wear, bed and bath products, jewelry and bon-bons. There’s still a high level of tourists present but also some very chic, monied ladies with amazing sheeny-bronzed legs.

‘They really look like they take care of themselves, don’t they?’

Sasha smiles. ‘It’s looks like the opposite to me!’

‘How do you mean?’ I frown.

‘These kind of women have masseurs and personal trainers and aestheticians to take care of them. It’s makes a big difference in the overall polish.’

I nod. She’s right. Even the older gent beckoning to his colleague has immaculately manicured hands.

‘By the way, who was that guy earlier?'

'What guy?' Sasha does it again.

'The one with the—' I tug at my earlobe.

'My god! Weren't they huge? Up close they looked like big fleshy cuts of meat!'

I wait for her to reveal his identity.

'You know, my dad convinced himself his ears were getting bigger as he got older and so I looked it up in a medical dictionary and—'

'Sasha!'

'Well, he says he's a movie producer.'

I gawp. Only Sasha could get a casting call within two hours of touching down. Fortunately I'm all envied-out – I just want the juice.

'He gave me this spiel about how I was “a less smooshy-faced Cameron Diaz" and perfect for his next movie,' Sasha obliges.

'Why didn't you say?’

‘You know I'm not into that,' she squirms. 'Even if he was for real.'

'He could be!'

'Which is why I suggested he take a look at Zoë. But I didn't want to introduce them until I checked him out.'

'Wise move,' I acknowledge, getting an image of Zoë hyperventilating with excitement and then dragging him, boil and all, on to a casting couch. Whether he liked it or not.

'If he is legit, I thought maybe she could meet with him when we go to LA.'

'Did he say anything about her? "Halle Berry with hair extensions?" “Zoe Saldana with boobs”?

Sasha chuckles and shakes her head. 'Just that she looked more music video than actress at the moment.'

'Oh,' I say, disappointed for her.

'But we can easily sort that,' Sasha notes. (She's learned a fair few styling tips in her time.)

‘There you are!’ Helen beckons us over to the bar. 'We're ordering martinis!’

'I've got a Spudtini!' Elliot looks pleased with himself. 'Pure potato vodka.'

'You're such a man,' I tease as I peruse the menu, opting ultimately for the alluring Mermaid martini.

We take our drinks out onto the terrace and watch the sun back-light the waves as they rise up so we can see clear through the pale minty-green water. I'm hypnotized watching them fold over, froth up and then slide in on layers of silver-grey. I'm just about to comment on the idyllic silence when a lifeguard truck barrels along the coastline informing everyone within a mile radius that they are now off duty, so should you enter the ocean, you do so at your own risk.

I doubt many would venture in now. It's amazing how quickly the temperature drops early evening. I give a little shiver.

'You cold, La?' Elliot reaches over to rub my bare arm. 'Here, put this on.' He pulls off his sweater in that weird way men do, reaching back and dragging the whole thing over his head for maximum hair-rumpling potential. It's still warm as he heaps it into my lap.

'But now you'll be cold,' I half protest, slurring rather more than anticipated.

'I'll be fine,' Elliot assures me. 'I've got this one to keep me warm,' he adds, concertina-ing Elise with his embrace.

'Careful!' she whines, wriggling free.

I can't help but snort out loud – I love how Elise makes out she's this fragile little sugar-spun waif who'll snap if you hug her with any kind of sincerity. Oh to set Zoë-The-Human-Pulverizer on her.

'Shall we go down on to the beach for the sunset?' Helen suggests, noting that all the drinks are now satisfactorily drained. ‘I like to huddle up by the rocks - it feels like you're sitting on the edge of the world looking out …'

'Won't the sand be cold now?' Elise complains, reluctant to leave her floral cushion.

'I'll get some blankets.' Helen jumps up.

'I'll come with you,' I volunteer, eager to compensate for not being one hundred per cent embracing of the new Helen, just in case she's noticed.

'It's just through here …' Helen leads the way, around to a staff side entrance.

'I can't believe the changes in you,' I pipe, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

'I can't believe I lived like I did for so long,' Helen sighs.

'How do you mean?'

'Oh you know, I was putting so much energy into being the me I always saw myself becoming, never really stopping to ask whether I was happy.' She frowns, and for a second I see a flash of the old Helen and I don't want her to go back.

'So what happened?' I quickly move her on.

'Reuben took me surfing and I didn't recognize myself out there!' she marvels. ‘It was such a good feeling, in that moment I just let it all go.'

'How you thought things should be?' I check, wanting to be clear on how the miracle began.

She nods.

'We lay out on the beach all night and all these thoughts kept whizzing through my head and I just kept coming back to the same thing:
"This is it! This is what really matters – the rest is just a distraction.
''’

I get a rush of vicarious adrenalin and then ask, 'Is that when you gave up your job in Arizona?'

Helen nods. 'That night, when I went back to Reuben's apartment, I faxed a resignation letter to work. I didn't want to risk going back on Monday and slipping into my own routine, losing my nerve.'

'That was a big step.'

'Yes it was, but I had some help.'

The California Club, I think to myself. I want to ask more but I'd feel sneaky getting information before the others.

'Here!' Helen loads my arms with an array of Mexican rugs and throws.

'Are these all yours?' I admire the streaky ridges of color – pink to burgundy to blue to brown - like a series of woven sunsets.

'Yup, I've got quite a collection going – little tip I learned from your mum: why sit on one thin layer when you could be snuggled in seven!'

Mum never believed in traveling light to the beach – there was no need. We were so close we could make five trips if we wanted. Everyone else was on damp towels with rolled-up T-shirts propping up their heads, while we looked like some sumptuous bedouin scenario with windshields and cushions and fleece blankets in jewel-bright colors. I feel swimmy with nostalgia and contemplate telling Helen about the B&B, but I don't want to ruin the mood, besides the others will be getting chilly.

'Great blankets!' Zoë covets them the second we reach the rocks.

'I got them at this market in Tijuana, fiver each,' Helen brags.

'I'd love to go shopping there!' Zoë enthuses. 'I bet Lara could find some real treasures.'

'The border's only twenty minutes away,' Helen tempts her further. 'My sous-chef actually lives over there.'

'Imagine commuting to work from a different country every day!' Elliot smiles. 'That's so cool’

As we snuggle into the blankets Helen deftly rustles up a beachfire and invites us to bliss out as the sun puts on the most spectacular show, melting from hot gold to moody orange and then seeping across the sky, turning the clouds alternately pink and baby blue. Just when we think the maestro is going for a subtle fade-out, a blinding electric yellow streaks the vista and we gasp at the beauty and ingenuity.

'There's definitely a magic in the air here.' Helen inhales the last breath of sunshine then continues speaking, almost as if in a trance. 'I just feel so free, so happy for every little thing.'

The rest of us stare at her through the now misty darkness, as one by one she strikes at our Achilles' heels.

'I feel lighter, not just physically but in my heart. I feel loved, connected, part of the world. So peaceful and yet so energized. So hopeful …'

There's a silence while we contemplate what it would be like to feel even one of those things wholeheartedly. The want in us is palpable. It's not just me and Sasha.

'So come on, Helen!' I beg, all out of patience. 'Tell us about The California Club!'

Elise shoots me a poisonous look but everyone else gives an encouraging, 'Yeah!'

She beams back at our expectant faces. 'Okay. But I'm going to ask you all to do one thing first.' Sitting up on her haunches she rummages in her rucksack, this time pulling out a little block of paper and a collection of biros.

'Are we playing some kind of game?' Elise sneers.

'No, I just need you all to write something down,' she explains, handing out a sheet of paper and a pen to each person. 'Ready?'

We nod, looking a little wary.

‘I want each of you to write down what you'd most like to happen during your vacation here.'

'Vacation?' teases Elliot in his best Valley Girl voice,

'Holiday, whatever!' Helen dismisses his friendly carping.

'Do you mean like a list of activities?' I ask.

'Stick my hands in cement on Hollywood Boulevard, get discovered by a movie director, get it on with Josh Hartnett,' Zoë offers.

'Well, you're halfway there but I'm not after a list. This is more of a wish. What would be the one thing that would make your holiday complete?'

'Get it on with Josh Harnett!' Zoë affirms.

‘Don't say it out loud, just write it down. No conferring and no more questions,' Helen sternly addresses our furrowed brows and open mouths.

Elise is the first to scribble, somewhat aggressively, on her page. Then Elliot, with a casual scrawl, obviously not fretting too much over his choice.

'Now what?' Elise asks impatiently.

'We just sit quietly until the others are done.' Helen takes their pieces of paper and then Zoë's, closely followed by Sasha's reluctant offering.

'I think my wish might be a bit of a lost cause,' she frets.