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Shopaholic to the Stars(142)

By:Sophie Kinsella


As Jeff starts up the car, the TV comes on, and I’m assailed by the sound of sobbing. Lois and Sage are in each other’s arms on-screen, mascara dripping down both their faces, while Camberly watches, her hands clasped in delight to her mouth.

‘I’ve alwaaaays respected you …’ Sage is hiccuping.

‘I’ve had such a damaaaaged life,’ Lois sobs back.

‘I love you, you know that, Lois?’

‘I will always love yoooooou …’

They both look absolute wrecks. They must have worn non-waterproof mascara on purpose.

Lois cradles Sage’s face between her hands and says tenderly, ‘You have a beautiful spirit,’ and I can’t help snorting with laughter. Is anyone going to believe in this ‘reconciliation’? I have no idea. And right now, I don’t care. All I can think is: where’s Dad? What’s going on? What on earth is going on?

When I get back, Suze is out. Presumably she’s with Alicia. Presumably they’re having really long, heartfelt conversations, because Suze can’t talk to me, her oldest friend, who helped her have her first baby, does she remember that? And spent a whole week jiggling him in my arms while Suze slept, does she remember that? Where was Alicia then? She was swigging cocktails and planning how to ruin my life, that’s where she was.

Anyway. If Suze wants to be best friends with Alicia, then fine. Whatever. Maybe I’ll make friends with Robert Mugabe, to match.

I leave her a voicemail, giving her the bare bones of what happened, and do the same for Mum. But then I feel at a loss. I can’t just head off randomly in search of Dad. I don’t have a single other clue.

So at last I pack up my bag and get Jeff to take me to Sage’s house, which is surrounded by paparazzi. (Proper paparazzi, not just Lon and his mates.) As we approach, I realize they won’t be able to see inside the blacked-out SUV. I wind down the window and they start snapping away at me inside the car, while I ignore them elegantly and Jeff shouts, ‘Wind that window up!’ (He doesn’t have to be so cross. I only wanted some air.)

When I finally get inside, the whole place is pumping with music, and there are about ten assistants milling around, making smoothies and telling people on the phone that Sage is not available. Sage herself is dressed in grey leggings and a T-shirt reading SUCK ON THAT, and seems totally hyper.

‘So, wasn’t Camberly awesome?’ she says about five times before I can even say hello. ‘Wasn’t it incredible?’

‘It was amazing! Did you wear non-waterproof mascara on purpose?’ I can’t help asking.

‘Yes!’ She points her finger at me as though I’ve got an answer correct on a quiz show. ‘That was Lois’s idea. The make-up people were all like, “You might cry, people often do on this show,” and we were like, well so what? We want to be honest, you know.’ She blinks at me. ‘We want to be truthful. Mascara runs and that’s the truth, and if it’s not your perfect put-together look, then too bad.’

I clamp my lips together so I won’t laugh. Truthful? Only I can’t say anything because she’s my client, so I just nod earnestly.

‘Wow. You’re so right.’

‘I know,’ she says in satisfaction. ‘So, some dresses arrived. Where did I put them?’

After some searching, I find a Danny Kovitz box in the corner of the room. It was sent over this morning from Danny’s LA showroom and contains three dresses. He’s such a star. (I talked to Adrian at the Danny Kovitz headquarters today. Apparently Danny has checked into the Setai in Miami and says he’s never going anywhere colder than 75 degrees Fahrenheit again. I never thought Greenland would suit him.)

I shake out the white beaded dress, which is absolutely gorgeous, and head over to Sage.

‘This is amazing.’ I drape the dress over my arm so she can see. ‘It’s very fitted, though, so you’ll need to try it.’

‘Cool!’ Sage strokes it. ‘I’ll try it on in a minute.’

‘So, what was your brilliant idea?’

‘Oh, that.’ She gives me a secretive smile. ‘I’m not going to tell you.’

‘Really?’ I stare at her, disconcerted. ‘Not at all?’

‘You’ll see it tonight.’

Tonight? Is it a hair do? Or a new tattoo?

‘OK!’ I say. ‘Can’t wait! So, I have some other options as well as the white—’

‘Wait.’ Sage is distracted by a TV on the wall. ‘Look! The interview’s on again. Let’s watch it. Hey, guys!’ she calls to her assistants. ‘The show’s on again! Get popcorn!’