Shopaholic to the Stars (Shopaholic #7)

Shopaholic to the Stars (Shopaholic #7) Page 145

His face is scrunched up in hope and he’s folding his bandanna into ever-decreasing squares.

“Of course!” I say. “I’m leaving at six, but I’ll come out five minutes early and you can all see the dress.”

“Yay!” Lon’s face relaxes into a beam. “We’ll be there!” Already he’s tapping at his phone. “Thanks, Becky! You’re the greatest!”

As we head inside, my spirits are higher than they have been for ages. Danny sent me a dress! I’m going to be a fashion story! Nenita Dietz is bound to be impressed when she sees me. But my momentary euphoria freezes into icy fog as soon as I see Suze. She’s sitting in the kitchen, surrounded by papers on which I can see her scribbled writing. Her hair is shoved into a disheveled knot. I can hear The Little Mermaid playing in the next room and smell toast, which is clearly what she’s given her children for their tea.

On the table is a fancy-looking Golden Peace tote bag, which is new. Alicia must have given it to her, as well as that sweatshirt sticking out of it. I know what she’s doing. She’s trying to buy Suze’s love.

“Nice bag,” I say.

“Thanks,” says Suze, barely looking up. “So you’re back.” She sounds accusing, which is hardly fair.

“I was back earlier,” I reply pointedly. “But you were out.” With Alicia, I refrain from adding. “Any news?”

I know there isn’t any news, because I’ve been checking my phone every five minutes, but it’s worth asking anyway.

“Nothing. I’ve been on the phone to all of Tarkie’s friends, but none of them has any leads. What have you done? Have you spoken to your dad’s friends?”

“I went to the trailer park. I did some investigating there.”

“Oh yes, I got your voice mail.” She stops scribbling and draws her feet up to her chair, hugging her knees. Her face is drawn with worry, and I feel a sudden urge to hug her tight and pat her back, like I would have done any other time. But somehow … I can’t. Everything feels too stilted between us. “You met another Rebecca? That’s so strange.”

I tell her all about the trailer park, and she listens in silence.

“Something’s going on with my dad,” I finish. “But I have no idea what.”

“But what does it mean?” Suze rubs her brow. “And why has he got Tarquin involved?”

“I don’t know,” I say helplessly. “Mum will be in the air by now, so I can’t ask her, and anyway, she doesn’t know anything.…” I grind to a halt. My attention has been grabbed by something on the kitchen counter. It’s a big box with DANNY KOVITZ printed on the side.

Obviously my dress isn’t the priority right this second. On the other hand, I can’t wait to see it. I don’t even know if it’s full-length, or mid-length, or a minidress.…

“I tried the police again,” Suze is saying. “Absolutely useless! They said I could file a report. What good is a report? I need them out there, searching! They kept saying, ‘But where would we search, ma’am?’ I said, ‘That’s for you to find out! Put some detectives on it!’ Then they said, ‘Could these two gentlemen have just gone on a little trip?’ I said, ‘Yes! They have gone on a trip. That’s the whole point. But we don’t know where!’ ”

As Suze is talking, I edge over to the counter. I lift the lid a little way and hear a rustle of tissue paper. There’s a lovely waft of scent too. Danny always has his clothes sprayed with his signature fragrance before they’re sent out. I push aside the silvery-gray tissue paper and glimpse a shoulder strap made out of linked copper hoops. Wow.

“What are you doing?” says Suze tonelessly.

“Oh.” I jump and drop the lid. “Just having a look.”

“More ‘essential shopping’ for Sage, I suppose.”

“It’s not for Sage, it’s for me. I’m wearing it tonight. Danny sent it over specially. It’s from his Trees and Wires collection.…” I trail off, registering the sharp silence in the kitchen. Suze is staring at me with a look I can’t quite work out.

“You’re still going to the premiere,” she says at last.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

There’s another long silence. The atmosphere is getting edgier and edgier, until I want to scream.

“What?” I say at last. “What? Don’t you think I should go?”

“Jesus, Bex! Do you really have to ask?” Suze’s sudden vehemence takes me by surprise. “Your dad is missing, and Tarkie, too, and you’re going to a bloody premiere? How can you be so selfish? I mean, what kind of priorities do you have?”