'Oh yes.' Faith laughs. 'It's a great story. You'll have to ask her about it.' She glances out of the window into the car park. 'Oh, here she comes now.' She waves and beckons at someone, and I sit up expectantly.
'Queenie!' exclaims Carola as the door opens. 'Come meet Rebecca.'
'Thank you so much for helping us-' I begin, as the door swings further open. And then my words dry up on my lips and I feel my entire body shrivel. No. No.
A little whimper escapes my lips before I can stop it and Carola shoots me an odd glance. 'Rebecca, meet Queenie. Alicia, I should say.'
It's Alicia Bitch Long-legs.
Here. In LA. In Minnie's school.
I feel pinioned with shock. If I weren't sitting down I think my legs would collapse.
'Hello, Rebecca,' she says softly, and I give a little shudder. I haven't heard that voice for years.
She's as tall and skinny and blonde as ever, but her style has changed. She's wearing drapey yoga pants and a grey top and Keds. I've never seen Alicia in anything other than heels. And her hair is caught in a low ponytail, which is also very different. As I run my eyes over her, I notice a white and gold twisted bracelet on one wrist. Isn't that the bracelet they wear at Golden Peace?
'Do you two know each other?' says Sydney, with interest.
I want to break into hysterical laughter. Do we know each other? Well, let's just see now. Over the last few years, Alicia has tried to ruin my career, my reputation, my husband's business and my wedding. She's undermined me and looked down on me at every turn. Just seeing her is making my heart race with stress.
'Yes,' I manage. 'Yes, we do.'
'So that's why you recommended Rebecca!' Carola still seems obsessed by this. 'I was just saying, how on earth did she get a place at such short notice?'
'I had a word with Erica,' says Alicia.
Her voice is different, I realize. It's lower and calmer. In fact, her whole demeanour is calmer. It's creepy. It's like she's had Botox of the soul.
'Well, aren't you a sweetie-pie?' Faith puts an arm fondly around Alicia's shoulders. 'Lucky Rebecca to have such a pal!'
'We were telling Rebecca all about you,' puts in Carola. 'Turns out we didn't need to!'
'I've changed a lot since I saw you last, Rebecca.' Alicia gives a soft laugh. 'When was that?'
I'm so shocked, I actually gasp. When was that? How can she ask that? Isn't it etched into her brain for ever like it is into mine?
'At my wedding,' I manage to gulp. When you were being escorted out, kicking and screaming, having tried to ruin the whole thing.
I'm waiting for a flash of understanding, remorse, acknowledgement, something. But her eyes have a weird, bland quality to them.
'Yes,' she says thoughtfully. 'Rebecca, I know we have some issues which we should try to put behind us.' She puts a hand gently on my shoulder and I immediately recoil. 'Maybe we could have a cup of mint tea together and talk it through, just the two of us?'
What? All those terrible things she did boil down to 'issues'?
'I don't ... You can't just-' I break off, my throat dry, my heart thumping, my thoughts all over the place. I don't know what to say.
No, is what I want to say. You must be joking, is what I want to say. We can't just put all that behind us.
But I can't. I'm not on home turf. I'm standing in the parents' lounge at a pre-school in LA, surrounded by strangers who think that Alicia is a sweetie-pie who's just done me the most massive favour in the world. And now a new feeling creeps over me. A horrible, cold realization. These women are all Alicia's friends. Not my friends, Alicia's friends. It's her crowd.
The thing about Alicia is, she's always managed to make me feel about three inches tall. And even now, even though I know I'm in the right and she's in the wrong, I feel like I'm diminishing by the second. She's in the cool gang. And if I want to join it I'm going to have to be friendly to her. But I can't. I just can't. I can barely even look at her, let alone go to her 'moms' yoga class'.
How can they all be fooled by her? How can they call her 'sweet' and 'super-fun'? An overwhelming feeling of disappointment engulfs me. For a moment I was so excited. I thought I'd found a way in. And now I find Alicia Bitch Long-legs is standing at the entrance, barring the way.
The door swings open and Erica comes in, her colourful shawl trailing behind her like a sail.
'Rebecca!' she exclaims. 'I'm glad to say that Minnie is doing extremely well. She's acclimatized remarkably quickly and seems to be making friends already. In fact, she's a natural leader.' Erica beams at me. 'I'm sure she'll have a little tribe following her in no time.'
'Brilliant.' I manage a wide smile. 'Thank you so much. That's fantastic news.'
And it is. It's a massive relief to think that Minnie feels at home in LA already and is happy and is making friends. I mean, I'm not surprised. Minnie's so confident and charms everyone she meets, it's no wonder she's fallen on her feet.
But as I look around at Alicia and all her disciples, I can't help thinking ... what about me?
SEVEN.
For the next few days I'm in a total state of shock that Alicia Billington has turned up in LA. Except she's not Alicia Billington any more, she's Alicia Merrelle. It all gets worse, as I found out when I Googled her yesterday. She's filthy rich and well known all over LA, because she's married to the founder of Golden Peace. The actual founder himself. He's called Wilton Merrelle and he's seventy-three with a goaty grey beard and those fixed, stretched eyes you get when you have too much plastic surgery, and they met on a beach in Hawaii. A beach. Who meets their husband on a beach? They have a daughter called Ora who is a month younger than Minnie and they are, according to one interview, 'hoping to expand their family'.
As soon as I started Googling, I found all these articles about the 'super-stylish home-maker' with her 'British wit and charm'. I sent them to Suze and she sent back a one-word email: 'WHAT?????', which made me feel better. Suze has no time for Alicia. And neither does Luke (which is no surprise, bearing in mind she once tried to steal all his clients and ruin his company. Oh yes, whilst trashing my reputation in the newspapers at the same time. Luke and I actually split up because of it. It was awful). When I told him, he just grunted, and said, 'Might have known she'd land on her Manolos.'
But the trouble is, everyone else here thinks she's adorable. I haven't seen her again at Little Leaf, thank goodness, but I've had to have about six conversations with other mothers about how great it is that Queenie and I are old friends (friends!) and isn't she divine and am I coming to her spa party?
I can't cope with an Alicia Bitch Long-legs spa party. I just can't.
Anyway. Never mind. I don't care. I'll make friends another way. There are lots of other ways. And in the meantime, I'm going to focus on my new career.
I have a plan at the ready, and it starts today. I've been totally inspired by the story of Nenita Dietz marching into a wardrobe department and landing herself a job. So today I'm going to do the tour at Sedgewood Studios, which is where Nenita Dietz works, and I'm going to sneak away and find her. Luke has even got me a free VIP ticket through some contact of his, although I haven't mentioned my plan to him. I'll wait till I have success first. Then he'll see.
I've put together a collection of my work as a personal shopper: look books, photos of clients, even a couple of sketches, all zipped up in a leather portfolio. I've also put together a critique of some recent Sedgewood Studios films, to show that I'm movie-minded. (Like, for example, that alien film they made, Darkest Force. They really could have had better costumes in that. The space uniforms were so clunky. By the year 2154, surely we'll be going into space in skinny jeans, with tiny little helmets designed by Prada or someone?) I've also done extensive research on Nenita Dietz, because I want to make sure we hit it off straight away. I'm wearing a really cool dress by Rick Owens, which is a label she likes, and I'm wearing Chanel N 5, which is apparently her favourite scent, and I've Googled Martinique which is where she goes on holiday. All I have to do is meet her and I'm sure we'll get along.
As I wait to join the VIP tour, I feel a fizz of excitement. My life could turn a massive new corner today! I'm standing by the famous gates, which are huge and ornate, with Sedgewood Studios in big iron letters at the top. Apparently if you kiss them, your deepest wish will come true, and lots of tourists are kissing them and filming each other. Honestly, what a load of rubbish. Like a gate could help. Like a gate could really have any secret powers. Like a gate could- Oh, come on. I might as well. Just to be on the safe side. I'm kissing it and whispering, 'Get me a job, please, please, lovely gate,' when a side entrance opens.
'Come forward for the VIP tour!' A girl in a headset starts ushering us through and scanning our passes. I follow the crowd of tourists and soon find myself on the other side of the gates, in the studio lot. I'm here! I'm at Sedgewood Studios!
I quickly look around, trying to get my bearings. There's an endless road stretching ahead, lined with pretty Art Deco buildings. Beyond that is a lawned area, and I can see more buildings in the distance. I couldn't track down a map of the studio lot online so I'm just going to have to find my own way.
'This way, ma'am.' A young man with blond hair, a dark jacket and a headset is approaching me. 'We have one more space on our cart.'
I turn to see that a whole fleet of golf carts have turned up, and all the tourists are getting on. The blond guy is gesturing to the back seat of a cart that seats six people and is nearly full.
I don't want to get on. I want to find the wardrobe department. But I guess I have no choice.
'Great.' I smile at him. 'Thanks.'
Reluctantly I climb on to the back of the cart and buckle up, next to an old lady in pink seersucker shorts who is filming everything with a video recorder. She even swings round to take a shot of me, and I do a little wave. The blond guy has got into the front of the cart and is handing out headphones.
'Hi!' His voice booms into my ears as soon as my headphones are on. 'My name is Shaun and I'll be your guide for today. I'm gonna take you on a fascinating tour of Sedgewood Studios, past, present and future. We'll see the places where all your favourite shows and movies have been filmed. And while we're on our tour, keep your eyes peeled, and you might just spot one of our stars at work. Yesterday I was beginning a tour just like this one, when who should we see strolling by but Matt Damon!'
'Matt Damon!'
'I love him!'
'His films are awesome!'
At once, everyone starts looking around excitedly as if he might appear again, and one man even starts snapping his camera at empty space.
This is just like being on safari. In fact, I'm amazed they don't do celebrity safaris. I wonder who the 'Big Five' would be. Brad Pitt, obviously, and Angelina. And imagine if you saw the whole family together. It would be like when we came across a lioness feeding her cubs in the Masai Mara.
'Now, we're gonna travel back in time, to the glory days of Sedgewood,' Shaun is saying. 'I'm gonna share with you some magical moments in film history. So sit back, and enjoy!'
The golf cart moves off, and we all look around politely at the white buildings and the lawns and the trees. After a while we stop, and Shaun shows us the fountain where Johnno proposed to Mari on We Were So Young, in 1963.
I never saw We Were So Young. In fact, I've never even heard of it, so that doesn't mean an awful lot to me. Quite a nice fountain though.
'And now on to our next highlight!' Shaun says as we all get back on the cart. He starts it up and we drive for ages past more white buildings, lawns and trees. We turn a sharp corner and we all look excitedly to see what's next ... but it's more white buildings, lawns and trees.
I suppose I knew this is what a studio lot looked like. But I can't help feeling it's a bit ... meh. Where are the cameras? Where's the guy shouting 'Action'? And, more importantly, where's the wardrobe department? I really wish I had a map, and I really wish Shaun would stop. As if reading my mind, he pulls to a halt and turns to face us, his face glowing with professional animation.
'Ever wondered where was the famous grating that Anna lost her ring down, in the movie Fox Tales? Right here, on the Sedgewood Studios lot! Come and take a closer look.'
Obediently we all get off the cart and have a look. Sure enough, on a nearby fence there's a framed still from some black-and-white film of a girl in fox furs dropping a ring down a grating. To my eye, it's just an old grating. But everyone else is taking pictures of it, jostling for a good view, so maybe I should, too. I take a couple of snaps, then edge away from the group while they're all engrossed. I walk to the corner and squint up the road, hoping to see a sign saying Wardrobe or Costume Design, but it's just more white buildings, lawns and trees. Nor can I see a single film star. In fact, I'm starting to doubt whether they really come here at all.
'Ma'am?' Out of nowhere, Shaun has appeared, looking like a special agent in his dark jacket and headset. 'Ma'am, I need you to stay with the group.'
'Oh right. OK.' Reluctantly, I follow him back to the cart and get on. This is useless. I'm never going to meet Nenita Dietz, stuck on a cart.
'To your right, you'll see the buildings that house some of the most famous film-production companies in the world.' Shaun is booming down the earpiece. 'They all produce films right here on the Sedgewood lot! Now, we're heading to the gift shop ...'
I'm peering out of the cart as we trundle along, reading every sign we pass. As we pause at an intersection, I lean out, squinting, to read the signs on the buildings. Scamper Productions ... AJB Films ... Too Rich Too Thin Design! Oh my God, that's her! That's Nenita Dietz's company! Right there in front of my eyes! OK. I'm off.
With a burst of excitement, I unbuckle my belt and start clambering off the cart, just as we start moving. The momentum sends me sprawling on to the grass, and everyone on the cart screams.
'Oh my God!' one woman exclaims. 'Are these carts safe?'
'Is she injured?'
'I'm fine!' I call. 'Don't worry, I'm fine!' I hastily get to my feet, brush myself down and pick up my portfolio. Right. New career here I come.
'Ma'am?' Shaun has appeared by my side again. 'Are you OK?'
'Oh, hi, Shaun.' I beam at him. 'I'd like to get off here, actually. I'll make my own way back, thanks. Brilliant tour,' I add. 'I loved the grating. Have a good day!'
I start to walk away, but to my annoyance, Shaun follows me.
'Ma'am, I'm afraid I can't allow you to walk unsupervised through the lot. If you would like to leave the tour, one of our representatives will guide you back to the gate.'
'That's not necessary!' I say brightly. 'I know the way.'
'It is necessary, ma'am.'
'But honestly-'
'This is a working lot, and unauthorized visitors must be accompanied at all times. Ma'am.'
His tone is implacable. Honestly. They take it all so seriously. What is this, NASA?
'Could I go to the Ladies?' I say in sudden inspiration. 'I'll just pop into that building there, I'll only be a sec ...'
'There's a ladies' room at the gift store, which is our next stop,' says Shaun. 'Could you please rejoin the cart?'
His face hasn't flickered once. He means business. If I make a run for it he'll probably rugby-tackle me to the ground. I want to scream with frustration. Nenita Dietz's design company is right there. It's yards away.
'Fine,' I say at last, and morosely follow him back to the cart. The other passengers are looking at me with wonder and incomprehension. I can almost see the thought bubbles above their heads: Why would you get off the cart?
We whizz off again, past more buildings and round corners, and Shaun starts talking about some famous director who used to sunbathe nude in the 1930s, but I don't listen. This is a total failure. Maybe I need to come again tomorrow and try a different tack. Sneak away at the start before I've even got on a cart. Yes.
The only tiny positive is, there's a shop. At least I can buy souvenirs for everyone. As I wander around the gift store, looking at tea towels and pencils with miniature clapperboards on them, I can't help sighing morosely. The old lady who was sitting next to me comes over and picks up a novelty megaphone paperweight. She glances at Shaun, who is supervising us all with a close eye. Then she moves nearer to me and says in a lowered voice, 'Don't look at me. He'll suspect something. Just listen.'
'OK,' I say in surprise. I pick up a Sedgewood Studios mug and pretend to be engrossed in it.
'Why did you get off the cart?'
'I want to break into movies,' I say, practically whispering. 'I want to meet Nenita Dietz. Her office was right there.'
'Thought it was something like that.' She nods in satisfaction. 'That's the kind of thing I would have done.'
'Really?'
'Oh, I was stage struck. But what was I going to do? I was a kid in Missouri. My parents wouldn't let me sneeze without permission.' Her eyes dim a little. 'I ran away when I was sixteen. Got as far as LA before they tracked me down. Never did it again. Should have done.'
'I'm sorry,' I say awkwardly. 'I mean ... I'm sorry you didn't make it.'
'So am I.' She seems to come to. 'But you can. I'll create a diversion.'
'Huh?' I stare at her.
'A diversion,' she repeats a little impatiently. 'Know what that means? I distract 'em, you get away. You do what you gotta do. Leave Shaun to me.'
'Oh my God.' I clasp her bony hand. 'You're amazing.'
'Get over to the door.' She nods her head. 'Go. I'm Edna, by the way.'