Shopaholic to the Stars (30 page)

‘And call them “Suzes”.’

‘Shut up!’ She pokes me. ‘Although, actually … why not?’

‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ The deep boomy voice is back, and spotlights start circling the whole room. ‘Welcome to this year’s Actors’ Society Awards. Please welcome your host, Billy Griffiss!’

Applause breaks out as music erupts from the loudspeakers, and Billy Griffiss comes running down a set of lit-up steps, on to the stage. (I’m not
exactly
sure who he is. Maybe a comedian.) He starts his speech, but I’m only half listening.

‘Sage!’ says Aran, as she approaches the table, all glittery under the circling spotlights. ‘We lost you there. You need a drink, honey?’

‘I’ve been looking for my purse,’ says Sage, looking cross. ‘I just had it. I put it down, and it was gone.’

‘Never mind,’ says Suze quickly. ‘I don’t think it went with your dress, actually.’

‘And now, to present our first award, may I introduce a young lady who has done more for the share price of Kleenex than any other actor. We’ve seen her on the scaffold, we’ve seen her marooned in space, and now we’re going to see her right here. The queen of the weepie … Miss Lois Kellerton!’

The theme tune to
Tess
blasts through the loudspeakers, and Lois appears at the top of the lit-up steps. She looks slim and ethereal and beautiful … and she’s holding the Art Deco bag.

Shit
.

OK. Think. Quickly. The important thing is that Sage doesn’t look at the stage and see the clutch.

‘Sage!’ I say wildly. ‘I need to speak to you. Now.’

I can see Suze clocking the silver bag in Lois’s hand, and her eyes widen in comprehension.

‘Ow!’ She rubs at her chest vigorously. ‘I don’t feel great. Sage, have I got a rash? Could you look at my skin?’

Puzzled, Sage peers at Suze’s chest.

‘You’re good,’ she says, and turns back to the stage.

‘Sage!’ I hurry over to her chair and kneel down, forcing her to look away from the stage. ‘I’ve had a brilliant idea for a dress! With a fishtail and a kind of … bodice …’

‘Sounds great.’ Sage turns away. ‘We’ll talk about it later. I want to watch Lois mess this up.’

‘And the nominations are …’ Lois is saying. She’s standing at the lectern by now, and the clutch is resting on top of it in plain view.

‘She’s so skinny,’ Sage is saying pityingly, plumping up her own cleavage. ‘She has such a sad little body. She’s—’ Her eyes suddenly narrow. ‘Wait. Is that my purse?’ She gasps so loudly, heads turn at the next table. ‘Is that
my
purse?
Did that witch steal my purse?
’

‘No!’ I say hastily. ‘It was just a mix-up, I’m sure …’

‘Mix-up? She stole it!’ To my horror, Sage leaps to her feet. ‘Give me back my purse, Lois!’ she yells.

‘Oh Jesus,’ says Aran, and meets Luke’s eyes.

‘What is she
doing?
’ Luke looks absolutely appalled.

Lois pauses in the reading, and peers uncertainly out into the audience. Sage is striding to the stage, her eyes flashing. To my disbelief she mounts the podium, her dress sparkling under the spotlights.

‘That’s my purse,’ she says, grabbing it off the lectern. ‘You’re a thief, Lois. A common little thief.’

‘
No
.’ Aran bangs his head down on the table, as all the photographers rush forward and start snapping.

‘I didn’t steal anything.’ Lois looks flabbergasted. ‘This was given to me by my stylist, Rebecca.’

‘She gave it to
me
,’ Sage retorts, opening it up. ‘Oh, look.
My
phone.
My
lipstick.
My
lucky charm. Now are you going to tell me this is
your
purse?’

Lois stares in bewilderment at Sage’s stuff. Then she glances up, her eyes huge and anxious.

‘I was given it,’ she said. ‘I don’t understand.’

My legs trembling, I rise to my feet and call out, ‘It’s my fault! I promised it to both of you! I’m really sorry …’

But no one takes any notice, even though I’m waving my arms, trying to get their attention.

‘Now, ladies, I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding,’ Billy Griffiss is saying. ‘It reminds me of the calendar thief. Did you hear about him? He got twelve months and they say his days are numbered.’ He laughs loudly at his own joke, but if he’s hoping for anyone to join in, he’s out of luck. Everyone is watching Sage, riveted. Two guys in headsets have approached her, but she keeps batting them off.

‘Excuse me?’ I try waving my arms again. ‘Sage?’

‘People should know the truth about you, Lois,’ she spits. ‘You act so high and mighty, but you’re nothing but a criminal. You’re a thief! You’re a shoplifter!’

There’s a shocked murmuring from the audience at this. Someone shouts, ‘Boo!’ and someone else, ‘Get her off!’

‘Now, now.’ Billy Griffiss sounds pretty shocked, too. ‘I think that’s enough—’

‘It’s true! She’s a shoplifter! From … Pump!, wasn’t it, Lois?’

Lois looks like she wants to throw up.

‘There’s CCTV footage,’ says Sage in satisfaction. ‘Take a look.’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ says Lois in a trembling voice.

‘Yes I do. Becky saw her. Becky, you saw Lois shoplifting, didn’t you? Tell them! This is the witness!’ She gestures theatrically at me.

I’m still on my feet, so I’m totally identifiable. In one instant, everyone in the room seems to have turned to look at me. Photographers are pointing their cameras this way. A few flashes are already going off, and I blink.

‘You saw Lois shoplifting, didn’t you?’ says Sage, her voice rising clearly through the room, her smile curving cruelly. ‘Tell them, Becky. Tell the truth.’

Blood is rushing in my ears like a freight train. I can’t think properly. The whole world is looking at me and I need to decide what to do and I’m too confused and the seconds are ticking by …

I’ve lied plenty of times in my life. I’ve said my leg was broken when it wasn’t. I’ve said I had glandular fever when I didn’t. I’ve said my boots cost £100 when it was actually £250. But those were lies about
me
. I’ve never lied about someone else.

I can’t tell the world Lois is a shoplifter.

But I can’t tell the world she
isn’t
a shoplifter.

‘I …’ I glance desperately at Lois. ‘I … no comment.’

I sink down in my chair, feeling ill.

‘That proves it!’ Sage crows. ‘Look at the CCTV footage! Becky saw it all. She’s your witness. Get her on the stand!’ She curtseys to the audience and sweeps off the stage.

Aran and Luke are just staring at each other, aghast.

‘Becky.’ Luke reaches over and squeezes my hand hard. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes. No.’ I swallow. ‘What was I supposed to do?’

‘It was an impossible situation.’ Luke’s mouth is tight with anger. ‘A situation you shouldn’t have been put in.’

‘They’re coming.’ Aran glances up at the photographers heading our way. He gives me a sympathetic look. ‘Watch out, girl. Your life just changed for ever.’

‘Becky!’ A journalist is holding out a voice recorder at me. ‘Becky! Did you see Lois stealing?’

‘Did you catch her in the act?’ chimes in another.

‘Becky, look this way please!’

‘This way, please, Becky!’

‘Leave her alone!’ commands Luke furiously, but the crowd of press is getting even bigger.

‘Becky! To your right, please!’

I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be in the glare of the paparazzi. Now I know. It’s like being in a thunderstorm. It’s all white light and noise and whooshing in my ears. Voices are calling at me from all directions. I don’t know which way to look or what to do. All I’m aware of is my name, being shouted out, over and over.

‘Becky!’

‘Becky!’

‘Beckeeeeeee!’

I suppose in the old days, we would have waited for the first editions to come out. We might even have got some sleep. But this is the 24-hour internet age. The news was right there, instantly.

It’s 6 a.m. now, and none of us has been to bed. I’ve read about two hundred different pieces online. I can’t stop. The headlines have been changing every hour, as more bits of news filter in:

Lois is ‘Shoplifter’!!!

ASAs ceremony disrupted

Sage accuses Lois of theft, interrupts awards

Store assistant confirms shoplifting, police ‘pressing no charges as yet’

Sage: I feel betrayed by former friend

And there’s a whole load, just about me.

Witness Becky ‘saw everything’

Becky ‘may testify in court’

Stars fight over bag from stylist Becky

They just go on and on. The most extraordinary one is this one I found on a gossip site:

Becky ‘drank cocktails’ before row, bartender reports

I mean, for God’s sake. What does that have to do with anything? They might as well write, ‘Lois and Sage visited bathroom on day of row.’ They probably
will
write that.

We’ve all given up saying how bizarre it is. Suze and Tarkie are on the sofa with all the children, eating cornflakes and watching the coverage on E!, which is basically a loop of Sage screaming at Lois and a shot of me looking bewildered. I’ve seen it about forty-seven times. I don’t need to see it any more.

Luke and Aran are in the kitchen, talking grimly. Somehow they persuaded Sage to stop giving interviews, go home and promise to go to bed. Aran delivered her personally into the care of her housekeeper, handed over a huge tip and said, ‘This girl needs to sleep.’ But I bet she’s stayed up all night, too. I bet she loves it.

As for Lois, I have no idea. Her people surrounded her and hustled her out of the place almost instantly. It was like seeing a caged animal again. Every time I think of it my insides squirm with guilt.

‘Want watch
Barney!
’ Minnie barges into me, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Want watch
Barney
, not Mummy. Not
Mummy
,’ she repeats disparagingly.

I suppose it is a bit boring, watching your mother on a loop on the TV when you were hoping for a big purple dinosaur.

‘Come on.’ I lift her up, all cosy in her rabbit dressing gown and slippers. ‘Let’s find you
Barney
.’

I settle her upstairs, watching
Barney
on our bed with a bowl of sugar-free spelt puffs. (Totally tasteless but, unbelievably, her favourite snack. She really is becoming a child of LA.) Then I pull back the curtains and do a double-take. There’s a camera crew outside our gates. An actual camera crew! The next minute I hear the entrance buzzer sounding. Someone’s pressing it, over and over. I bolt along the landing and start running down the stairs, but Luke is at the bottom, waiting for me.

‘
Don’t
answer it!’ he says. ‘Aran will take care of it.’

He shepherds me away from the door, into the kitchen. ‘You’re going to have to keep a very low profile over the next few days,’ he says. ‘Which is boring, but that’s how these things go. We’ll draft a statement and release it mid-morning.’

‘Becky!’ I can hear a man’s faint voice from outside. ‘Becky, we want to offer you an exclusive!’

‘Should I maybe give an interview?’ I turn to Luke. ‘Like, make things clear?’

‘No!’ says Luke, as though the idea is anathema. ‘A statement is enough. We don’t want to feed the frenzy. The more you give them, the more they’ll want. Coffee?’

‘Thanks. I just need to … get my lip gloss …’

I dart into the hall again and run halfway up the stairs. There’s a window from where I can see out to the front, and I peer through the glass. Aran is at the gates, talking to the camera crew. He’s laughing and looks relaxed and even high-fives one of them. I can’t imagine Luke behaving like that.

‘Sorry, guys,’ I hear him say, and then he turns back towards the house. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as.’

‘Aran!’ I say, as the front door opens. ‘What’s going on?’ I walk back down the stairs to talk to him.

‘Oh, nothing much.’ He smiles easily. ‘World’s press descending: same old same old.’

‘And they want to interview me?’

‘They sure do.’

‘What did you say to them?’

‘I said don’t scratch the gates, you miserable bloodsucking low-life.’

I can’t help smiling. Aran seems so relaxed about things. The buzzer sounds again and he peers out of a side window.

‘What do you know,’ he observes. ‘ABC just turned up. This story is going mainstream.’

‘Luke says I should stay inside and ignore them,’ I venture. ‘And we’ll just give out a statement later.’

‘If you want this to go away, that’s the best thing you can do,’ he says, in neutral tones. ‘Totally. Keep your head down and they’ll get bored.’

I can sense a ‘But’ hovering in the air. I look at him questioningly and he shrugs noncommittally.

He’s not going to say a single word more unless I press him, is he? I walk a little way off, in the opposite direction from the kitchen, and wait for Aran to follow me.

‘But?’ I say, and Aran sighs.