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The California Club Part 7

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Elise gives Zo a dark look.

'Aren't I wicked?' Helen chirrups, unfazed. 'Come on, let's go back to the main hotel, I'll tell you the hotel ghost story.'

'Do we get to hear the end?' Zo grumbles.

Helen smiles as she takes her arm. 'Of course!'

'What are all these metal things sticking out of the ceilings?' I ask as Helen leads us along one of the extra-wide corridors.



'Sprinklers. This building is predominantly made of wood and one of the original owners was terrified at the speed with which a fire would spread so he had gazillions of the things installed. Now they say you'd have more chance of drowning than burning.'

'Speaking of death,' Elise finally finds a subject she feels an affinity with. 'You mentioned a ghost ...'

Helen continues for a couple more paces before turning to face us. 'Kate Morgan was just twenty-four when she put a gun to her head and shot herself, right here in the hotel.'

Gosh. That's quite an opener.

'She had argued with her husband on the train to San Diego, he got off early, she continued on, waited five days for him to arrive and when he didn't show up at the hotel she took her own life.'

Sasha, Zo and I sigh. What woman can't relate to the madness-inducing frustrations of the waiting game.

'Or...' Helen gets a mischievous look.

'She was coming here to meet her lover. She signed in under a false name after all. Why would she do that if she was expecting her husband? What if he had found out that she was having an affair, tracked her down and shot her himself.'

'Oh gos.h.!.+'

'This was 1892, the hotel had only been opened a few years and they would have preferred the tragedy of a suicide over the menace of a murder...'

'So it's a bit of a whodunit as well as a ghost story?'

Helen nods. 'There was also speculation that she was pregnant or had stomach cancer two other possible motives...'

'But what about the actual ghost aspect?' Elliot wants to know.

'Well, we've had reports of extreme changes in temperature, strange sounds, fragrances, piles of papers being strewn across a room, people tripping on the step where her body was found ...'

'She doesn't realize that she's gone.' Sasha looks sad. 'She can't understand why people can't see her, why they just walk through her.'

I lean out on the balcony overlooking the central courtyard. 'Isn't it funny,' I muse. 'To everyone else here this place really is heaven.'

'Yeah, if it wasn't full of Americans it would be great.'

Thank you Elise.

I try to exchange a look with Sasha but her eyes are averted and if I'm not mistaken her bottom lip is trembling.

'Back in a mo!' she swiftly excuses herself.

'We'll be at the terrace bar!' Helen calls after her.

As the others move away, I discreetly drop back then turn to follow Sasha, finally locating her in the Ladies, staring miserably into the sink.

She startles as she catches sight of my reflection and bl.u.s.ters, 'Do you think these orchids are real? I mean they probably-'

'Are you okay?' I cut in, concerned at how disturbed she looks. I'm fairly certain it's not just the ghost story unsettling her.

She looks at me for a second and then starts feverishly soaping and frothing her hands like a pin-up version of Lady Macbeth. 'I just feel a bit queasy, I think it was the pecan pie I'm not very good with caramelized nuts.' Sasha is a terrible liar. She knows it too, so she has another go: 'Or it could be the jet lag, you know I read it can actually cause depression in some people.'

'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, br.i.m.m.i.n.g 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 suns.h.i.+ne 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 ma.s.seurs 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 G.o.d! Weren't they huge? Up close they looked like big fleshy cuts of meat!'

I wait for her to reveal his ident.i.ty.

'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 Zo. But I didn't want to introduce them until I checked him out.'

'Wise move,' I acknowledge, getting an image of Zo 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 b.o.o.bs"?

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 s.h.i.+ver.

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