The California Club Part 22

I watch him watching Sasha and for a moment I see his sneer merge into something that could be mistaken for longing but then he looks towards the ceiling and gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. I would love to know what's going on inside his mind. Maybe one of the gurus at Elise's retreat could give me an insight?

'Mwwaacch!' Uh-oh. There's a weird bleating-squawking sound coming from Maxine.

'What should I do?' I panic.

'Just set her down on the floor,' Ty tells me.

She looks relieved but also slightly bewildered to be back on all fours. After taking a couple of uncertain steps she plonks herself down and starts chewing on one of Ty's shoes.

'Do you just let them roam around?'

'Not outside. We'll keep them in the house for a few more months.'

'In a cage?'

'In a kids' playpen actually.' He nods over to the corner where there's a wooden-barred one all set up. 'When they're a bit older we'll take them out like Ca.s.sidy and Kid for publicity it helps us raise funds for this place.'

I sigh. 'I can't believe Hollywood is only an hour away. All those mega-buck movie stars ... What about Julia Roberts? She doesn't seem to lead a particularly extravagant lifestyle she must have a spare million she could donate?'

'I know she likes horses!' Sasha chips in.

'We feed them horses.'

'What?' I gasp.

'If they've been put down from an injury or something.'

Silence.

'Breakfast?' says Ty, scooping up the tiger cubs, one in each hand.

Sasha and I exchange a queasy look.

For the first time I see Ty grin. 'I'll get the coffee on.'

By the time we get to the kitchen Ty is long gone, having just left us a scribbled note, 'Finish what you started yesterday.' Hardly poetry but I notice Sasha stash the piece of paper in her pocket as if it were a personal love letter. This concerns me mildly but I say nothing.

After fortifying ourselves with toast and apricot jam we resume our clearing of what will one day be Paradise Park. I'd swear we'd only been working for an hour when Ty calls, 'Lunchtime!'

'Thank G.o.d!' I cheer. 'I'm starving again!'

Sasha leans her garden rake against the wall and I switch off the hose I've been using to fill Ryan's playpool and together we hurry towards the house.

Ty stands waiting beside a marble tabletop just outside the kitchen. As we approach he throws down a slab of bloodied meat.

'Are we having a barbecue?' I ask.

'It's Tahira's dinner, not yours. I need it cut into cubes,' he instructs, handing Sasha a knife.

'I'm vegetarian,' she says, shrinking back.

'Just as well I'm not asking you to eat it then.'

Again he thrusts the knife at her.

'I can't.'

'Is it horse?' I ask ghoulishly.

'No,' Ty rolls his eyes.

Sasha contemplates the moist flesh. 'It feels like murder.'

'D'you wanna try and be a bit more dramatic?' he scoffs.

'How can you call yourself an animal lover and do this?' Sasha gulps.

'It's not nice but it's a fact of life. These cats can't hunt for themselves, I've got to do what it takes to feed them.'

Sasha raises the knife, blanching as she goes to make the first incision, then stumbles back, shuddering.

I reach out to her. 'Are you okay? You don't have to do this.'

'No, you don't,' Ty confirms.

We look up at him, surprised by his compa.s.sion.

'Just go along and tell Tahira she's going to go hungry today. She's the one in the back cage. I'm sure she'll understand.'

And with that he turns his back, heaving a wheelbarrow full of quartered chickens towards the cages.

My phone goes. It's Elise. The last person I want to speak to but I remember my promise to Helen to give her equal airtime and seeing as Sasha has ducked out to the toilet, I listen patiently to an exhaustive rant about what a waste of time the morning's 'Facing your Fury' cla.s.s was. When she's done I tell her that I know at least one person who could benefit from a little anger management, i.e. Ty. Elise is not convinced so I proceed to gross her out with the chopping-raw-meat story.

'I mean, why do you think he's bullying Sasha like that?' I wail, forgetting for a moment that I don't value Elise's opinion.

'It's obvious,' she clips. 'He fancies her.'

'Bit of an Ozzy Osbourne-style courts.h.i.+p, don't you think? No, it's not that.'

'Are you sure?'

'Trust me, you wouldn't think so if you saw how he looks at her.' Other than the fleeting moment with the cubs, it's been pure visual vitriol.

'Ah, but that's a reaction to how she's making him feel about himself, not what he really feels about her.'

Blimey! Two days at Guru Camp and she's already fluent in psycho-speak.

'Wait there let me get Martha, she's brilliant at this kind of thing.'

'Elise!'

'What?'

'I thought you said it was all hokey c.r.a.p!'

'Well, it's no use to me because I don't have temper tantrums but for some of the frothing-at-the-mouth crazies here I'd say it's been quite beneficial.'

What a wonderfully supportive environment she must be supplying for the rest of the group.

Martha comes on the line, fully briefed.

'I need you to tell me exactly what he's said and then we'll work out a way to get him to roll over,' she promises.

It's got to be worth a shot so I relate every sentence Ty has spat at Sasha. When I'm done Martha says she could do with some more background information and reminds me that this isn't my battle to fight, but I don't agree Sasha is wounded and even if she wasn't I'd feel protective. Besides, it's actually easier fighting other people's battles, don't you think? At least that way you know it's worth the fight.

The rather more pressing factor is that I've only got a matter of hours to sort this thing out. I can't just drive off and leave her, I'd feel I was throwing her to the lions. Now I've got a few starter insights from Martha (and Sasha's occupied in the toilet) I decide I'm going to confront him. Even if he does have some pretty lethal friends on his side.

As I open the gate the leopards start hissing and screeching, sc.r.a.pping with flick-knife claws flailing. A couple go at each other on their hind legs while another opts for curious intimidation tactics crouching low and twisting its fully fanged head up at another. The noise of the fracas is incredible.

What on earth is going on? Do they know that I'm out to get their master? Has Freddie's arch-rival Malachi instigated some crazy mutiny? Then I see Ty trundling up with a fresh wheelbarrow of chickens. They know it's feeding time and they obviously have very strong feelings about whether they want a leg or a wing.

Ty tips the wheelbarrow upright at the fencing, pressing the meat into waiting jaws. I expect them to savage their quarry, gulping it down in one but instead they find their own private s.p.a.ce to dine, away from the dusty-earthy floor either on the top of the den box or on the concrete border of the cage, presumably to prevent the 'sand in your sandwiches' factor. I watch Freddie lick the skin until it stretches away from the pink flesh and slithers up into his mouth. Taking a moment to debate which bit to eat next, he decides to break it down, splintering the bones with a satisfying crunch.

'They eat the bones,' Carrie tells me, having snuck up while I was engrossed in leopard table manners. 'It's a great source of calcium for them good for their teeth and bones.'

'They were so ferocious just now,' I marvel.

Carrie nods. 'You've got to remember these animals are essentially wild.'

Same goes double for Ty, I think to myself as I watch him press a handful of raw McNuggets through the cage for a less pushy member of the pack. The leopard chomps them down then licks Ty's palm to make sure she hasn't missed any delicious gristle.

'I'm just going to get some supplies from the vet, I'll be back in an hour or two.' Carrie pats me on the back.

'Okay.' I nod, instantly drawn back to the leopards. Having enjoyed their starter they return to the barrow buffet for seconds and thirds. I wonder if they ever tire of chicken. Maybe, just maybe, one of them is craving a little braised tofu.

'Where's your friend?' Ty shouts over.

'She's just thrown up,' I say, as pointedly as possible.

No reaction.

'Doesn't that bother you?' I narrow my eyes at him.

'She's a model isn't she? I'm sure she's had plenty of practice.'

I want to scream, What the h.e.l.l is your problem? but he's coming straight at me with the wheelbarrow. I leap back to avoid a clash. He glowers at me as he pa.s.ses. I take an indignant breath. What's that smell? It's not the raw chicken or animal droppings. Something more fumey. Not gas. Turpentine? I do have a painting ch.o.r.e this afternoon. Then I twig. Whiskey. It's fading now but it was coming from Ty's mouth.

Is he Mr Angry because he's an alcoholic? Perhaps I should take Martha's advice and gather a bit more information before I confront him. As I wander through the pens I stop beside an unfamiliar furry face.

'What's your name?' I ask, searching for a plaque.

He makes a sound akin to a weight-lifter's grunt but I can't translate.

'Here it is!' I pick up the wooden sign and hook it back on to the fencing. 'Troy.'

Something clicks in my head 'Troy! Of course, Helen! She'll know what to do.'

I dial her number, praying I'm not disturbing a crucial spurt of icing.

'h.e.l.lo?'

'Helen! It's Lara. I think we may have a problem.

I bring her swiftly up to speed on Ty's unacceptable behavior but Helen is dismissive.

'Sasha'll be fine, she's dealt with enough designer histrionics in her time.'

'But this is different,' I contend.

'How so?'

'Well apart from the fact they were shrimpy queens and he's a big macho lug, she fancies him.'

'And you're worried it's some kind of manifestation of her self-loathing, the fact that she's attracting abuse to her?'

'Does everyone start talking like that when they move to California?'

Helen laughs.

I restate my case, Cali-style: 'I'm just concerned that, seeing how fragile she is at the moment, maybe this isn't the best environment for her.'

'Please don't worry, Lara. It's going to be fine. This place has been carefully selected by The California Club. Besides, it's just five more nights. If she has any major problems she can always call you.'

'But what if I'm in Yosemite? That's hundreds of miles from here.'

'Zo's just an hour away in LA. If she can't terrorize him into submission, no one can.'

She's got a point.

'Everything is going to turn out for the best, trust me.'

'If you're sure ...'

'I am. Listen, I've got to go, my souffle is about to collapse.'

The line goes dead.

I turn to Troy. He looks at me as if to say, If Helen says it's okay ... then shakes his mane. I sigh and return to the house to get my next a.s.signment.