Alice in La La Land (28 page)

'How are you feeling, Dad? How was the new doctor?'

'He was great, Alice. We've decided to go ahead with him. The operation is scheduled in a month's time, so we're heading back to Wollongong tomorrow.'

'A month, huh? Well, that's interesting.'

'Why's that?'

'I think I may be able to repay you by then.'

'Alice,' growled her father, 'I told your mother not to . . .'

'I know, I'm sorry, Dad, but I'm so thrilled to be able to give you back the money, so just don't rouse on me, okay?'

Alice could hear him grumbling.

'So they finally woke up to themselves and gave you a job, did they?' he asked.

'Sort of, Dad, but it's a different sort of job and I couldn't be happier.'

Alice could hear her dad fidgeting on the other end of the phone. 'Christ, they're back. They're on their way through the front door,' he said. 'That's brilliant, love. I'm very proud, you know that.'

'I'm coming home to see you for a week or two, Dad. Once I've signed a contract.'

'Oh, now that's the best thing I've heard in weeks. That's bloody brilliant! Let me get your mum!'

'Don't curse, Ken,' she heard her mother say. 'Who is it?'

Alice heard the ensuing scuffle while she imagined grocery parcels of mutton and mango raining down around her father.

She could hear him explaining, 'It's Alice, love. She's got some good news.'

'Darling?' said her mum. 'What's happened?'

That night, long after Alice had fallen asleep in her blue-and-white-striped pyjamas, there was a knock on the wall.

'Uh, Alice, are you awake? There's something goin' down with those cats.'

Alice roused herself and listened for feline chaos. Sure enough, she could hear sound of a cat disaster coming from the bathroom.

'Shauna, you're back. I missed you, homie,' she mumbled sleepily, sitting up in bed. 'Now, I don't mean to speak out of turn here, but did you do something to them? It sounds as if they're drowning in the bath.'

Shauna giggled. 'Uh-huh, well, not on purpose or anything, but I shut the door on 'em when I found 'em in there. For God's sake, one of them was peeing in my makeup kit. I swear!'

Alice listened. 'Okay, but why are they in there with the shower running?' she asked.

'Uh, it's called teaching the little fuckers a lesson. I had
about two hundred dollars worth of brand new limited-edition Christian Dior makeup in my case and that shit ain't cheap, so maybe they can take a little sauna and have a think about that.'

'I see,' said Alice.

'Uh, Alice, don't worry. Go back to sleep, I'll let 'em out in a half-hour. That should scare the bollocks off 'em. Night.'

'Night, Shauna.'

Alice yawned and hugged a pillow to her chest. The events of the last twenty-four hours tumbled about inside her as if in a front-loading washing machine. Her sense of relief fed every last blood cell and allowed her to finally get some perspective on the past few weeks.

Nick had been right, Alice conceded. Her judgement had become clouded by the urgency to clear her debt. Alice had become something of a gambler, with her self-esteem at stake. She understood now that she'd been chasing a series of ever-worsening roles, and that she'd pursued them with desperation. And if there were any town where desperation was anathema, it was LA.

Alice stared into the darkness. How audacious to suggest herself as a
writer
! Bloody hell, she'd leapt into the unknown with that one! Would she actually be able to deliver what she had proposed? Was she betraying the dream she'd held dear since the age of twelve to perform? Alice rolled over, pummelled the pillow and placed it back under her head. She heard a cat ricochet against something that may or may not have been a shower screen, and wondered whether the animals would make it out of the bathroom in one piece.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt a flutter of anticipation for her new life. She would never entirely discard her childhood dream, but perhaps the universe was conspiring to persuade her to try her hand at something else? She saw her career as a much-loved 1950s house dress that needed laundering, then time to breathe on the Hill's Hoist. Perhaps this new opportunity would give her the space she needed to re-discover what she'd loved about acting in the first place? Could it be that chakra points actually existed and hers had somehow aligned themselves for once? Somewhere a sardine can was bestowing a benign blessing. Alice sighed and closed her eyes.

At last the Dodo said, 'Everybody has won
and all must have prizes.'

Lewis Carroll,
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Nick was surprised by the scale of the billboard, and that they had erected one in an outer suburb of Dublin.

Celbridge was a thirty-minute drive out of the city centre and it was the first time he'd noticed the advertisement on his way to work. The billboard towered above a bus stop, next to Empty Pockets, a pub he used to frequent as a university student.

Nick immediately recognised Celestia Bannow, now an international star on a par with Halle Berry. She stood behind a cake shop counter in a pink uniform that looked as though it had been crafted in the design studios of Dior rather than the back office of the West Wollongong Uniform Shop. Celestia was wistfully looking at the sky, her hair spilling magnificently down her shoulders. She was surrounded by profiteroles. In large pink letters, the title above her proclaimed:

Alice in La La Land
'Sometimes surrender is the only way to success.'
Coming to cinemas December 12

Nick pulled over very suddenly, leapt out of his decaying Porsche and slammed the door. He felt overwhelmed with both curiosity and a fondness he'd assumed was long dormant. Squinting up at the poster, he rubbed furiously at his stubble and concentrated on the words 'Story By', but then it said someone called Elijah Schwartz-man and . . . Alice Evans.

Nick took a step back. He was grinning like a fool and felt an odd urge to cheer. He wondered if the film's distributor, Paramount, would pass on a congratulatory message.

Heartfelt thanks to Melissa Firth. Without your help I could not have written this book.

Thank you, Mum and Dad, for your wisdom, tireless rereading and endless support, and to John and Leslie for spending time on my lumpy first draft, responding with enthusiasm and helping me finesse the LA details.

Thanks also go to my editor Nadine Davidoff and my agent Nellie Flannery, to Jeanne Ryckmans for taking a chance on me, to Roberta and everyone involved at Random House, and to Lee-Anne and Jess and all at Shanahan Management. Thanks also go to Rabbi Jacqui Ninio. Thanks, too, to my teachers at UTS – to John Dale, and to Gabrielle Carey for being something of a mentor.

Thank you, Berni and Stephanie, for looking after little Tom while I wrote this novel. The sound of your Irish accents through the baby monitor provided me with inspiration for the character Nick.

Thank you to my dear children, for being a constant force of motivation and love, and to my precious husband for always believing.