‘Who’s there?’ says Sage sharply, and comes to the French windows. ‘Oh my God, Becky?’
I stare helplessly up at her, unable to reply. I feel as though the world has turned upside down. A few minutes ago, Sage was telling me she didn’t want to see Lois. But she must have been in Lois’s house even while she was talking to me. What is going on? What?
‘Get in here,’ says Sage, glancing around. ‘There aren’t any press following you, are there? What did you do, break in?’
‘Yes,’ I say, getting to my feet, still dazed. ‘I made a bit of a mess of the fence. Maybe someone should see to that. Sorry,’ I add to Lois, who has followed Sage to the French windows. Lois doesn’t look the dishevelled mess I was expecting. She’s wearing long, pale-green wide-legged trousers and a black halter top and her hair is smoothed into a side ponytail. She’s also smoking, which is a bit of a shock. Lois Kellerton doesn’t smoke. I’ve read it in magazines a million times.
‘You look so freaked!’ Sage bursts into laughter as she closes the French windows behind me.
Finally I find my voice. ‘I am freaked! What do you expect?’
‘Poor Becky,’ Sage says kindly.
‘What … I mean …’ I don’t even know where to begin. ‘Don’t you …’
‘You thought we hated each other, right?’ says Sage.
‘Everyone thinks you hate each other!’ I expostulate. ‘Everyone in the world!’
‘Well, we kinda do.’ Sage pushes Lois, whose mouth turns up in a little smile.
‘Everything’s a game,’ she says. ‘We’re playing the game. The long game,’ she adds.
‘Lois’s really smart,’ chimes in Sage.
They’re both nodding, as though that explains everything.
‘I don’t get it,’ I say, feeling more bewildered than ever. ‘I just don’t. You have to start from the beginning.’
‘Oh well, the beginning.’ Lois leads me into the kitchen, where a huge oak table is covered in laptops, magazines, coffee cups and take-out boxes. I even see a box of Krispy Kremes, which makes me double-take. I thought Lois hated white sugar? ‘That would be when we were … what, ten?’
‘We were on Save the Kids together,’ Sage nods.
‘Then we had a big fight.’
‘But we made up.’
I’m totally lost. ‘Was that recently?’
‘No! We were, like, sixteen,’ says Sage. ‘I was so mad at Lois, I trashed her car. Remember?’
Lois shakes her head ruefully. She’s a lot more composed than Sage. In fact, I can’t stop staring at her. Her nails are perfect. Her hands aren’t shaking one little bit as she makes coffee. She doesn’t look anything like a suicidal head-case.
‘Did you really try to commit suicide?’ I blurt out, and she gives another secretive little smile.
‘Becky, none of this is real!’ says Sage. ‘Don’t you realize that? You’re in on it too now.’ She gives me a squeeze. ‘Lois will tell you what to do. She has the whole thing planned.’
‘What do you mean?’ I say in bewilderment. ‘What whole thing?’
‘Redemption,’ says Lois. ‘Reconciliation … forgiveness … Camberly.’ She pauses, then says it again with relish, ‘Camberly.’
‘Camberly.’ Sage nods. ‘We just heard. We’re doing it, the two of us. A special. It’s gonna be huge.’
‘Huge.’ Lois agrees.
‘They’re gonna plug it everywhere. The big truce. Sage and Lois confront each other.’ Sage’s eyes are sparkling. ‘Who’s not going to watch that? Lois has this whole remorseful-sinner thing going on, too. You’re going to wear white, yes?’ she adds to Lois.
‘White shift and flats.’ Lois confirms. ‘Penitent angel. They may get the store owner on, apparently. So I can apologize to him.’
‘That would be good TV,’ says Sage. ‘I’m gonna offer Lois help,’ she tells me. ‘And we’re both gonna cry. I need to talk to you about a dress,’ she adds. ‘Something innocent-looking. Maybe Marc Jacobs? Maybe, like, a soft pink?’
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It’s like they’ve practically written a script. They probably will write a script.
‘Do the Camberly people know about this?’ I stutter. ‘That it’s all fake?’
‘No!’ Sage seems shocked. ‘Nobody knows. Lois even fired her media team to keep them out of the way, so they have no idea.’
‘I knew we had a big chance,’ says Lois. ‘But my people would never have gone along with it. They’re so conventional.’ She shakes her head impatiently.