The Liberation of Alice Love - Abby McDonald [152]
***
It was cliché, she knew, but Alice couldn’t help but feel that was the point: an open-topped car, wind-tousled hair, Bruce Springsteen playing on the car radio as she drove to the place where Ella had been spotted last. If this was her California experience, then she was going to do it properly. She happily strolled through the lobby of the ornate, chateau-style hotel, and took the time to relax with a tall glass of iced tea under a shaded terrace before beginning her questions.
Was this the world Ella had aspired to? Alice wondered, as she watched the sunbathers stroll from the bar to their crisply upholstered loungers. If so, she could see the appeal. Whether it was the money clearly in evidence from the ultra-casual designer details or simply the fact of the unadulterated sunshine, Alice felt a warm glow—deep and relaxing—as she soaked in the scene.
What must it be to simply start again, anywhere you wanted?
When at last she’d had her fill of the view, Alice called Rupert’s contact, briefly explaining she was an old friend looking to get in touch with Angelique.
“Sure, I’ve got her card here somewhere…” There was a pause, and then he returned, reading off a local number and email address. “I was going to set up a date with her. Do you want me to mention you’re in town?”
“Oh, no,” Alice replied quickly. “I definitely want to surprise her.”
Another few calls to directory assistance, and some enthusiastic Googling later, and Alice had an address. Crescent Heights. It was an older area above the main sprawl of the city, full of steep winding streets and houses buried in a lush tangle of tropical-looking trees. She slowed the car, idling by the curb as she approached the house on what was now her third loop around the block. A large Spanish-style building, it was set a little way back from the road with two cars in the driveway and separate mailboxes on the front lawn, suggesting that it housed more than one apartment—and that the residents were home.
This time, Alice came to a stop just up the street and waited, eyes fixed on the green-fringed entrance. As stakeouts went, it was low-tech, she knew: a bag full of bakery goods, a cardboard cup of herbal tea, and nothing but the radio for company. But as an hour drifted by, Alice refused to let her focus waver. She could just march up to the front door, demanding answers and a full confession, but what good would that do? She wanted to know the fabric of Ella’s life now: her fake career, the new set of disposable friends, the lies she was telling this time around. So she watched, flicking between classic rock and a strangely soothing country station, until just before one p.m., Ella emerged.
Alice sat forward, her last pastry suddenly forgotten in her hand. Ella was skipping down her front steps, head bent as she rummaged in a large leather bag. Her hair was the first thing Alice noticed. It was longer now, of course, but the formerly middling brown color was gone, replaced with a vibrant auburn red that fell in sleek, glossy waves. She was dressed smartly, but in a more eye-catching ensemble than she used to wear around Alice: a vivid purple ruffled top, a structured white pencil skirt, chunky gold jewelry. There were high heels, and the designer purse, but more than those shiny accessories, a certain confident strut in her walk that Alice had never seen before.
She looked like a different woman.
Alice squinted, just to be certain, but Ella’s face was unmistakable, even from a distance. She’d found her.
Ella climbed into her car and, a moment later, reversed out of the drive. Alice waited a few precious seconds and then started her own engine, easing after Ella as she headed off. Soon she would know everything.
***
Alice kept watch for four days, until the front seats of her rental car were littered with takeout wrappers and gossip magazines, and she’d seen for herself the new life Ella was crafting, out here in the sunshine. It was a good one: early-morning trips to a gym nearby, dressed casually in loose-fitting sweatpants and a high, bouncing ponytail;