Shopaholic to the Stars
Shopaholic to the Stars (Shopaholic #7)(137)
Author: Sophie Kinsella
“Hi,” she says shortly. “Are the children OK?”
“Watching Wall-E.” I nod. I have a feeling they might have put it on for a second time, although I won’t mention this to Suze. “What happened about Tarkie? Did you find him? Is he OK?”
Suze surveys me silently for a moment. She looks as if I’ve made some joke that isn’t very funny—that in fact is quite tasteless.
“I have no idea if he’s OK, Bex,” she says at last, in a strange manner. “Because it turns out Tarkie wasn’t at Golden Peace. He’s not in L.A. at all. He texted me from some roadside diner.”
“A roadside diner?” I echo in astonishment. “Where?”
“He didn’t say.” I can tell Suze is trying to keep it together, but she’s not really succeeding. “He didn’t tell me anything. And now he won’t answer the phone at all. I have no idea where he is, I have no idea what he’s doing; he could be anywhere.…” Her voice rises to an accusing roar. “And it’s all your dad’s fault!”
“My dad’s fault?” I say, staggered.
“He’s dragged him off on some wild goose chase.” Suze’s eyes blaze at me accusingly. “Apparently he’s got to ‘put something right.’ What is it? What’s he got to put right? Where’ve they gone?”
“I don’t know.”
“You must have some idea.”
“No! I don’t!”
“Didn’t you talk to your dad, Bex? Don’t you know what he’s doing here? Weren’t you interested?” Suze sounds so scathing that I flinch. First, Mum, then Luke, now Suze.
“I was going to talk to him.” I know how feeble this sounds, and a warm shame creeps over me. Why didn’t I sit down properly with Dad? “All I know is it was something to do with some old friend from a trip years ago.”
“Some old friend,” repeats Suze sarcastically. “Could you be any more vague?”
Her tone is so lacerating, I suddenly find myself lashing back. “Why are you blaming me? It’s not my fault!”
“It is your fault! You’ve totally ignored your dad, so he’s latched on to Tarkie! They were drunk last night, you know that? Tarkie’s in a vulnerable place at the moment. He shouldn’t be getting drunk. Your dad’s a total alkie.”
“No, he isn’t! If anything, Tarquin got him drunk.”
“Rubbish.”
“It’s not rubbish!”
We’re both glaring at each other, and now I realize we’ll wake Minnie, standing here and yelling.
“Look,” I say more quietly. “Look, I’ll find out. I’ll find out where they’ve gone. We’ll track them down.”
“Where’s Luke?”
I feel a spasm of pain but hide it. I don’t feel like sharing this evening’s events with Suze right now.
“Gone back to the UK,” I say matter-of-factly. “He has to talk to the Treasury.”
“Great. Just great.” Suze lifts her hands and drops them despairingly. “I thought he’d be able to help.”
She looks so devastated, I feel instantly nettled. So what if Luke’s away? We don’t need him. We don’t need a man. I may have messed up on this, but I can put things right.
“I’ll help,” I say with determination. “I’ll do it. I’ll find them, Suze. I promise.”
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YOU HAVE REACHED THE PLEDGE PAGE OF:
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Personal message from Danny Kovitz
Dear Friends,
As many of you know, this is my year of “giving back,” of “challenging myself,” of “taking myself to a whole new place.”
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Miami cocktail challenge
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Big love,
Danny xxx
Where am I supposed to start? I mean, how do you find a middle-aged man and a slightly troubled aristocratic lord who could be anywhere in L.A. or California or … anywhere?
Suze rang the police last night, but it wasn’t a success. They didn’t exactly rush round to the house with their sirens blaring. In fact, they didn’t rush anywhere. Suze didn’t tell me what they said, but I could hear her getting quite shirty down the phone. I think they implied that Dad and Tarkie were probably just at a nightclub and would reel back in the morning and she should stop stressing out.