Bad Girls (35 page)

Oh, Skye realized, detached enough from the therapy proceedings to be able to work out why things felt so jagged this session, it must be Dr Raf and Dr Lucy making this session feel so gnarly. Did they have a fight?

She looked closely at Dr Lucy for the first time. Dr Lucy’s lips were drawn tightly together, her legs crossed equally tightly. She was staring straight at Amber, and her gaze was distinctly unfriendly. Not that Amber showed any signs of noticing. Amber looked as if someone had switched on a light bulb in her face, a rosy-tone, pearlized one; her skin was pink-tinged, her green eyes glowing.

She’s totally stunning, Skye had to admit. Skye wasn’t normally the jealous type. Live and let live was her motto; it was what had kept her happy and balanced in the Midnight Lounge, an atmosphere full of backstabbing and rivalries. But none of the girls at the Lounge was an international supermodel. And though Skye knew exactly how pretty she was, she didn’t much enjoy being compared with Amber, cover girl and
Sports Illustrated
star.

No wonder Dr Lucy doesn’t like her. I mean, for a doctor, Dr Lucy’s a knockout. She must feel like a supermodel all the time. Until she meets a real one.

Oh. That’s weird.
Skye’s glance had slid sideways to Dr Raf, and she noticed immediately how subdued he looked. Usually, when group was in full swing, he’d be leaning forward, his dark eyes alert and engaged on what was being said: Brian, in this case, droning on about his previous rehabs and what he’d learned from them about resolving his trust issues with women. This session, however, Dr Raf was almost slumped in his chair, staring at the floor in front of him. He seemed to have completely tuned out of the proceedings; none of his usual, helpful interjections to move the group along, prompt them into making connections, keep them working hard.

He looks like he really doesn’t want to be here. He and Dr Lucy must have had one hell of a fight – if that’s why they’re acting so strange
. . .

But then Skye looked over at Joe, and she forgot completely about any speculations as to why Dr Raf and Dr Lucy were in such odd moods this evening.

Joe was lounging back in his chair, ankle hooked over the opposite knee, his blue eyes bright and clear, focused entirely on Amber, a smile of utter and complete appreciation curving his lips.

I might as well not be in the room, Skye thought bitterly, and realized that Amber was talking now.

‘I know what you mean about the trust issue with women, Brian,’ Amber was saying, ‘though in an opposite way. I never had any positive experiences with men, really.’ She grimaced. ‘It’s funny, but it never occurred to me in group that I couldn’t say something in front of a man, or that it’d be easier to talk if there were only women in the room.’

‘We
do
have women-only sessions,’ Dr Lucy said snappishly. ‘I’ve mentioned that to you.’

Amber favoured her with a beatific smile, looking so stunning that Joe and Brian instinctively leaned forward.

The admiring look in Joe’s eyes was the last straw for Skye. Without thinking of the consequences, without giving herself a moment to take a breath, she blurted out: ‘Amber, if you’re OK with talking about things in front of the men, I think you should share what you told me yesterday. You know, the going on dates with guys for money? And the guy who’s paying for you to be here?’

Amber turned her head to look at Skye, her green eyes widening in utter shock. Dr Raf stirred in his chair, sitting up straight.

But it was Dr Lucy who said reprovingly: ‘Skye! We have an absolute rule here not to reveal
anything
that’s told to us by another patient, unless it’s against the Cascabel code of conduct!’

Skye couldn’t believe what she had done. Everyone was staring at her now, horrified, their mouths gaping open. Everyone, that is, apart from Dr Raf, whose gaze had lifted from the floor and was now fixed squarely on Amber.

Amber was sheet white. Carefully, as if her bones were brittle, she pulled the pashmina over her shoulders and stood up.

‘Amber?’ Dr Raf said in a husky voice, but she shook her head, not looking at him. In complete silence the group watched her cross the room, heading for the door.

‘I’ll go after her,’ Dr Lucy said a few seconds after Amber had exited the room.

Oh God, poor Amber! Talk about adding insult to injury!

‘No, I will,’ she said swiftly, jumping up from her chair. ‘It was me who upset her – I should go—’

As Skye turned to leave, she was taken aback by the realization that Petal was glaring at her, the black panda makeup turning her eyes, narrowed into slits of resentment, into a mask of hate. If Skye had betrayed a secret of Petal’s, rather than Amber’s, Petal could not have looked at Skye with more disgust.

Skye couldn’t look at Joe. She just wasn’t brave enough.

I totally fucked up.
Skye hung her head as she followed Amber.
I should never, ever have opened my dumb mouth about what she told me. Never.

Skye looked first in their room, but Amber wasn’t there. It took a while to track her down to the garden, where she was sitting next to the fountain, her auburn hair and green dress blending into the bougainvillaea-covered wall behind it, her grey pashmina wrapped tightly around her, like a blanket. Some of the patients actually brought their blankets to the morning group session, like insulation from the painful emotional work they were about to do; but they bundled themselves up like bulky packages, while Amber, in the folds of her pashmina, was slender and exquisite. Trust Amber to be elegant even when she’s totally upset, Skye thought with another flash of resentment, before she took a good hard pull at herself.

The steady fall of water from the bamboo poles of the fountain was loud enough that Skye couldn’t make enough noise to signal her presence to Amber. She had to reach out and tap Amber’s shoulder; Amber jumped, and, looking up and seeing Skye, she frowned, edging back along the low stone wall on which she was sitting.

‘I don’t want to talk to you,’ Amber said, turning her head away.

‘Amber, I’m so sorry.’ Skye hovered behind her awkwardly. ‘I know I shouldn’t have said anything. It was just—’

‘Joe,’ Amber finished for her. ‘You wanted me to look bad in front of Joe.’

Skye writhed in embarrassment; there was no room to hide when Amber spoke the truth so simply.

‘The funny thing is, I don’t think it’ll have made any difference to him,’ Amber observed in a small cold detached voice. ‘If he thinks I need rescuing, the worse things I’ve done in the past, the happier he’ll be. More for me to be rescued from.’

This hadn’t occurred to Skye. She gaped at Amber, realizing that the other girl was completely right.

When did Amber get so smart? When did she get so good at figuring people out? This is not the girl who came in ten days ago, hooked on opiates, so quiet she wouldn’t say boo to a goose.

‘So you haven’t helped yourself. And you’ve hurt me,’ Amber continued, still staring into the cascading water.

‘Amber – I’m so sorry.’ Skye bit her lip. ‘I was just so jealous,’ she confessed helplessly.

‘Please leave me alone,’ Amber said. ‘I thought I could trust you. But if I can’t, I don’t have anything to say to you.’

Amber might as well have been hitting her with a carefully placed series of blows, each one perfectly calculated to achieve maximum pain. And Skye deserved every one. She turned away; all she could do now was what Amber asked her.

Skye couldn’t face going back into group, having to admit that Amber had told her she couldn’t trust her any more and asked her to go away. Instead, she went back to their room, lay down on her bed and burst into tears. She had ruined everything. Her budding friendship with Amber, the possibility of something with Joe. And she only had herself to blame.

P
etal sat cross-legged on her bed, looking, for the umpteenth time, at the video on her phone that featured Skye and Joe in the storage unit. At first, simply possessing it had given her enough of a rush; the hugely satisfying knowledge that she – Petal, the girl whom no one paid much attention to round here – held something so explosive that it could blow up their entire little world here at Cascabel.

But the rush hadn’t lasted for long. Petal was used to being the centre of attention. Her dating Dan, plus JC’s canny dyeing of her hair bright yellow, had caused a bigger sensation than ever before. The paps had been climbing over each other to snap pictures of her, and her bloody father had packed her off here before she could fully enjoy it. Texts from Tas and JC confirmed that Petal’s stay in rehab was all over the papers, so at least that meant that people weren’t forgetting about her. But it wasn’t enough. Even more than drugs or drink, Petal was addicted to people looking at her.

Her regular one-on-one therapy sessions, plus the work she was doing in group, had made it very clear to her why: all those years of desperately trying to get Gold to notice her, practically jumping up and down and screaming his name, acting up at school, being a brat, since behaving well didn’t seem to score her any points at all. Dr Raf had explained that children were so hard-wired to want attention that any kind was better than being ignored, and that had been a revelation to Petal.

All these years, I thought I was just bad. A wild child. And now it turns out I was only trying to get Gold to notice me.

She couldn’t even call him ‘dad’ in her thoughts; it was weird even talking about him as her father.

And I thought it was cool to call him by his name, she reflected bitterly. Maybe when I get back to London, I’ll start calling him ‘Daddy’. That’d really freak him out; make him feel his age.

She sighed, a long deep sigh, turning the phone over in her hands. She was dying to share this unbelievably juicy gossip with JC and Tas. They’d kill her if they found out she’d been keeping something like this from them. And it was 5 p.m., the time that Cascabel unblocked its call jamming for an hour so that patients allowed cellphone privileges could ring their friends and whinge about how miserable they were. She could send the video right now if she wanted.

Petal was really and truly torn. Part of her still violently resented having been packed off to Cascabel; but another part of her knew that it was doing her a ton of good. Part of her was furious at being separated from Dan; another part knew that Dan was working like a maniac in the recording studio and that if she were in London too, she’d probably be driving him crazy trying to drag him out partying with her rather than let him get on with his work. And that wouldn’t exactly be good for their long-term prospects.

Part of her was gagging to share this insanely hot piece of gossip with her best friends. But, bizarrely, another part of her was thinking of the trust that had built up in the rehab group in the time they’d spent together.

Joe’s a really nice guy, she admitted to herself. She’d thought in the beginning he was totally full of himself, uninterested in anything but leching after Amber and Skye.
But he’s been really cool with Brian. I’ve seen how much he’s put into looking out for Brian, spending time with him. He’s really been there for Brian. And Joe’s been great in group. You feel like you can say anything and he won’t judge you.

Plus, he’s never leched after me. Which would have been totally creepy, ’cause he’s practically old enough to be my father.

That fact hadn’t stopped more friends and acquaintances of Gold’s than Petal could count trying to flirt with her. Ever since she hit thirteen or so, started wearing some makeup and short skirts, she’d been fending off creepy older guys. With no help from Gold, who’d never even noticed.

So I’ve got to give Joe points for that too. Even with Skye and Amber, he’s been cool. He hasn’t, like, been playing them off against each other or anything like that.

Petal discounted Jennifer Downs, Joe’s world-famous film star fiancée. Growing up in Gold’s household had made Petal completely aware of all the fake Hollywood marriages and relationships that were arranged to conceal one or both star’s homosexuality, weird sexual preferences, or simply to promote their latest project. And she’d heard on the grapevine for years that Jennifer was a lesbian. So when Joe and Skye had got it on in the storage closet, he hadn’t been betraying anyone who remotely cared where he put his willy.

But Skye . . . Skye was another story.

What Skye did to Amber in group today was awful. Really nasty.

Petal had seen every kind of manoeuvre by women frantic to get close to Gold, ready to trample anyone else underfoot if that was what they had to do to achieve it. And she knew that Amber wasn’t after Joe; the only man here Amber cared about was Dr Raf. He’s given her double sessions now, Petal thought jealously. Lucky bitch.

But, like everyone else in their rehab group, Petal was genuinely touched by Amber: her beauty was hypnotizing, but beneath it was the really heroic struggle Amber was undergoing, to clean up after so many years of being hooked on pills, and to find out who she was underneath her addiction. Plus that awful mum waiting for her when she gets out of here, Petal thought, shuddering. That’s totally got to be hanging over her head.

Skye’s attempt to bring Amber down had triggered plenty of memories for Petal, none of them pretty. All those women – many of whom were supposed to be looking after her – squabbling and fighting over Gold.

Skye’s just like them. My nannies, the mums of my friends, my teachers. I thought she was nicer than that, but she isn’t. She’s just another bitch out for what she can get.

Her fingers danced over her phone keypad, pulling up Tas and JC’s names, attaching them to the video, her thumb hovering over the Send button. She hesitated for a moment, her brain racing. After all, the whole reason she was here was that Rudy had taken those photos of her and Dan and sold them to the papers! Wasn’t she doing exactly the same thing?

Nah. I’m just sharing it with my best mates. No one’s going to be flogging it to the tabloids.