Shopaholic to the Rescue

  “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 SEND, 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.

  Every time I look at Rebecca’s staring face, I feel a little internal Eek! I’d almost started to think this “Rebecca” didn’t exist—but here she is. Finally I’m going to find out what this is all about. And it’s about bloody time too. Honestly, not knowing stuff is totally exhausting. How do detectives do it? How do they stay sane? I keep wondering What if…and Could it be…and But surely…until my brain feels like it might explode.

  “We’re here!” Luke interrupts my thoughts, and I look eagerly out of the RV. The hotel is set way back from the road, with palm trees lining the driveway. It’s only a few stories high and is constructed out of some sort of red stone, so it blends perfectly into the landscape.

  “I’ll park the RV,” says Luke. “You go and check in. Find your anti-namesake.” He raises his eyebrows at me, and I grin back. I think he’s quite interested to meet this Rebecca too.

  It takes a bit of time at the front desk to organize all the rooms, and in the end Suze takes over. Danny spies a poster for the “Restorative Spa Package” and instantly decides he’s going to do that, because apparently his muscles and nerves have been “shot” by all this traveling. (Obviously it’s the traveling, not the staying-up-all-night-in-Las-Vegas and drinking-bourbon-laced-iced-teas-at-the-fair, which is to blame.) Meanwhile, I’ve found a whole leaflet about Rebecca Miades. I withdraw to the corner of the lobby, curl up in a big wooden chair, and start reading it avidly.

  We at the High View Resort are proud to have Rebecca Miades as our resident spiritual counselor and psychic reader. Rebecca began her psychic studies while a student in India and has trained at the Alara Institute of Mysticism. She is delighted now to be practicing in the spiritual power center of Sedona, where beneath the famed red rocks sw
irl age-old vortexes, energies, and mystic forces that strengthen and empower the soul.

  Wow. I didn’t realize Sedona had age-old vortexes. Let alone mystic forces. I glance around the hotel lobby, half-hoping to see evidence of a mystic force, but all I can see is an old lady tapping at her iPad. Maybe you have to go outside.

  Rebecca can offer sacred-vortex tours, intuitive counseling, healing, aura reading, celestial art, angel communication…

  Angel communication? I blink at the leaflet. As in…angels? I’ve never even heard of that. Or celestial art, which I suppose might be drawings of stars. A wind-chimey-type sound draws my attention, and I see a young man with longish hair coming through a beaded curtain. A badge on his shirt reads SETH CONNOLLY, CUSTOMER WELFARE. He smiles at me in an open, friendly way and notices the leaflet I’m holding.

  “Are you interested in our New Age Center?” he asks pleasantly. “Would you like me to direct you there?”

  “Um, maybe,” I say. “I’m just reading about Rebecca Miades.”

  “Oh, Rebecca.” His face creases into a smile. “She’s, like, my favorite person in the world.”

  “Really?” I wasn’t expecting that. “Er…why? What’s she like?”

  “She’s so sweet and good, you know what I mean? And her work is amazing,” he adds earnestly. “She really helps the guests find spiritual enlightenment. She’s a qualified angel-therapy practitioner, if you were interested in that? Or, she can do card readings, aura readings….”

  “Perhaps. She looks really attractive,” I add, trying to prod him into further revelations. “That hair!”

  “Oh, her hair is her glory.” He nods. “She colors it every year. Blue…red…green…We told her she should change her name to Rainbow!” He gives a boyish laugh.

  “So, could I see her, do you think?” I try to sound casual. “Make an appointment or something?”

  “Sure!” he says. “She’s based at the New Age Center. She’s been away, but she might be back by now. If you go that way, one of the spirit mentors will be able to help you. Through there”—he points at the bead curtain—“all the way through the seating area, and you’ll find the New Age Center in back.”

  “OK. Well, maybe I’ll stroll along. Thanks.”

  As Seth walks off, I glance furtively around the lobby. Mum, Minnie, and Janice are looking at a display of dream catchers. Suze is still talking to the woman at the front desk. Danny is following a lady in a white uniform toward the Spa Center.

  I think I might pop along and see this Rebecca for myself. Just quietly. Just me. As I stand up, I feel a spasm of nerves and firmly tell myself off. There’s no need to be nervous. This is only some woman from Dad’s past. No big deal.

  With a musical clatter of beads, I push my way through the curtain. I’m standing in a large, airy area furnished with sofas and chairs, in which a few people are sitting, reading newspapers and magazines. There are palms in pots, a huge skylight, and a sign reading NEW AGE CENTER, and I’m about to head in that direction when a pair of shoes suddenly catches my attention. They’re sticking out from a large wicker armchair—a pair of scuffed suede men’s loafers. I know those shoes—I know them. There’s an elbow on the arm of the chair too. A very, very familiar elbow, just a little more tanned than usual.

  “Dad?” My voice rockets out of me before I can stop it. “Dad?”

  The tanned elbow instantly jerks off the arm of the chair. The shoes move. The chair is pushed back with a scrape on the terra-cotta tiled floor. And the next moment I’m staring at Dad. Right here. In the flesh. My missing dad.

  “Dad?” I almost yell again.

  “Becky! Darling!” He seems as shell-shocked as I am. “What— How on earth— Who told you I was here?”

  “No one! We’ve been looking for you! We’ve been tracking you! We’ve been— Do you realize—” My whirling thoughts won’t quite make it into words. “Dad, do you realize—”

  Dad closes his eyes as though in disbelief. “Becky, I told you not to, I told you to go home—”

  “We were worried about you, don’t you understand?” I yell. “We were worried!”

  All sorts of emotions are pushing their way through me, like hot lava through a volcano. I’m not sure if I feel relieved or happy or furious or I want to scream. Tears are on my face, I suddenly realize, but I have no idea how they got here. “You just went off,” I say, breathing fast. “You left us.”

  “Oh, Becky.” He holds out his arms. “Love. Come here.”

  “No.” I shake my head furiously. “You can’t just…Do you know what a state Mum’s been in? Mum!” I scream. “Muuuuuum!”

  A moment later there’s an almighty clatter of beads as Mum, Janice, and Minnie all pile through the curtain.

  “GRAHAM?”

  I have literally never heard anything so shrill as Mum’s voice. It’s like a train whistle. We all flinch, and I can hear more chairs scraping as people turn to watch.

  As she approaches Dad, her eyes are sparking with fury and her nostrils are flared.

  “Where have you BEEN?”

  “Jane,” says Dad, looking alarmed. “Now, Jane, I told you I had a little errand—”

  “Little errand? I thought you were DEAD!” She collapses into racking sobs, and Dad throws his arms around her.

  “Jane,” he croons. “Jane, my love. Jane, don’t worry.”

  “How can I not worry?” Mum’s head jerks back like a cobra’s. “How can I not worry? I’m your WIFE!” She swings her arm and slaps Dad across the cheek.

  Oh my God. I’ve never seen Mum hit Dad before. I feel quite shocked. Thankfully, Minnie is playing with the beaded curtain, so I don’t think she saw anything.

  “Um, Minnie,” I say hastily. “Grandpa and Grana need to…er…talk.”

  “Don’t you ever, ever disappear again.” Now Mum is clinging to Dad, tears running down her face. “I thought I was a widow!”

  “She did,” confirms Janice. “She was looking up her insurance policies.”

  “A widow?” Dad gives a shout of incredulous laughter.

  “Don’t you laugh at me, Graham Bloomwood!” Mum looks like she might wallop Dad again. “DON’T YOU DARE!”

  “Come on, sweetheart.” I grab Minnie’s hand and push through the beaded curtain, my heart still thumping. A moment later, Janice joins me and we look at each other in disbelief.

  “What’s up?” says Suze, turning from the front desk. “What’s your mum yelling about? She’s not on about the correct pronunciation of ‘scone’ again, is she?”

  Mum once took Suze and me out to tea at a posh hotel and had an altercation with a member of staff about how to say “scone,” and Suze has never forgotten it.

  “No,” I say, feeling almost hysterical. “She’s not. Suze, you will not believe this….”

  —

  It takes two large Arizona Breezes to calm me down. (Gin, cranberry juice, grapefruit juice—delicious.) So God knows how many drinks Mum will need. Dad’s here. We’ve found him. After all our searching, all our angst…he was just calmly sitting in an armchair, reading the paper. I mean…what?

  I can barely sit still. All I want to do is go back into that seating area and quiz Dad relentlessly, till I understand everything: every single tiny little thing. But Suze won’t let me.

  “Your mum and dad need space,” she keeps saying. “Let them alone. Give them time. Be patient.”

  She won’t even let me creep past them to go and check out the famous Rebecca. Nor has she run in to demand news of Tarkie. So we’ve all come outside onto the front veranda of the hotel and are sitting on wicker chairs, swiveling round sharply whenever we hear a sound. I say “all,” but, actually, Luke has gone off to the business center to catch up on his emails. The rest of us are sitting here, though, feeling like life has been put on hold while we wait. It’s been half an hour, at least—

  And then suddenly there they are, swooshing back through the beaded curtain. Mum looks like she’s run a maratho
n, while Dad seems startled to see the assembled group and flinches as everyone starts exclaiming, “Graham!” and “Where’ve you been?” and “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” he keeps saying. “Ah, yes. I’m fine, we’re all fine….Goodness! I had no idea….Well, here we are, anyway. Would anyone like a snack? Drink? Ah…shall we order something?” He seems pretty flustered. Which is also unlike Dad.

  When we’re all seated with drinks and snacks and “light bites” menus, the chatter dies down. One by one, we turn again toward Dad.

  “So, come on,” I say. “Why did you dash off? Why the big secret?”

  “Why couldn’t you just tell us what was going on?” says Suze tremulously. “I got so worried….”

  “Oh, my dear Suze.” Dad’s face creases in distress. “I know. I’m so sorry. I had no idea….” He hesitates. “I simply came across a huge injustice. And I had to right it.”

  “But, Graham, why was it all so cloak and dagger?” says Janice, who is sitting beside Mum. “Poor Jane’s been beside herself, thinking all sorts!”

  “I know.” Dad rubs his face. “I know that now. I suppose I was foolish enough to think that if I told you not to worry, then you wouldn’t. And the reason I didn’t tell you the whole story at first…” He gives another sigh. “Oh, I feel so ridiculous.”

  “The Big Bonus,” I say, and Dad nods, without looking up.

  “It’s a fine thing,” he says heavily, “to be caught out in a lie like that at my time of life.”

  He looks really unhappy. I don’t know whether to feel sorry for him or angry.

  “But Dad, why?” I can’t help my exasperation slipping out. “Why did you tell us you were earning consultancy money? You didn’t need to invent a Big Bonus. You could have told us it was money from Corey. It wouldn’t have mattered!”

  “Darling, you don’t understand. Not long after you were born, I lost my job. No reason in particular: It was a time of general cutbacks. But your mother…” He hesitates. “She didn’t react very well.”

  He says this with typical Dad understatement, but he probably means, She threw the crockery at me.