‘Mommy T-Rex!’ the little boy shouted gleefully. He flung his arms around her neck and grinned at the girls over her shoulder. ‘Raaar! Raaar!’
Olivia laughed. ‘Aww. Why not leave him in the shot? He’s adorable.’
‘I can’t see the Pall Bearers putting out an “adorable” music video,’ Camilla said.
Olivia nodded. ‘I guess not.’
A minute later, the aisle was finally clear again, with the little boy’s roars fading into the distance. For the twenty-first time that night, Olivia took her place at the end of the aisle. This time, though, Olivia stopped at the magazines halfway down the aisle, idly picking one up and flipping through it.
‘Cut!’ Camilla looked both annoyed and apologetic as she hurried over, releasing the crowd of shoppers she’d held back until then. ‘What’s with the improv?’
Olivia shrugged, trying to ignore the glares of all the shoppers who’d been held up for the take. ‘It felt right in the moment,’ she said.
‘We should really keep it simple,’ said Camilla. But before she could explain what she meant, her jaw dropped. ‘Run!’ she gasped.
Olivia didn’t even have time to look around before Camilla grabbed her arm and yanked her down the aisle, not slowing down until they’d turned the corner. Then, breathing hard, Camilla hid behind the corner display of birthday cards. She pushed Olivia behind her, and peered back up the aisle they’d come from.
Olivia stood on tiptoes to look over her friend’s shoulder. ‘What are we looking at?’ she whispered.
‘Shh!’ Camilla waved frantically at her to be quiet.
Olivia opened her mouth to protest, then blinked as a nearly-empty shopping cart turned into their aisle, pushed by a familiar figure.
Lillian.
‘Um . . . Camilla?’ she whispered into her best friend’s ear. ‘Why are we hiding from my stepmom?’
‘Because I really, really want to talk to her!’ Camilla hissed.
Olivia looked at her in disbelief. Is this some kind of joke?
But Camilla’s face was pale and strained as she stared at Lillian with what could only be described as ‘yearning’. She definitely wasn’t making a joke.
Gently, Olivia put one hand on her arm. ‘We can hardly talk to Lillian from here, can we? Not unless we’re going to call her cell.’
Biting her lip, Camilla looked down at the smartphone in her hand. ‘Do you think we should?’
Olivia let out a disbelieving half-laugh. ‘Camilla, what is up with you today?’
‘I can’t help it,’ Camilla groaned, slumping against the rack of birthday cards. ‘I just really want to get to know her properly. She’s been working in Hollywood for . . . for, like, forever.’
Olivia tried not to laugh. You don’t even know how true that is.
‘She could give me so much advice on real film-making,’ Camilla said miserably. ‘But I just can’t make myself talk to her!’
‘That’s ridiculous.’ Olivia rolled her eyes. ‘I know you’ve spoken to her before. What about at the engagement party? Or the wedding? Or –’
‘That was different!’ Camilla said. ‘We were just chatting then, about unimportant things. If I want to ask her for help and advice, though . . . Well, I want her to take me seriously.’
‘I’m sure she will.’ Olivia nudged Camilla gently, trying to push her back towards the aisle. Over Camilla’s shoulder, she could see Lillian coming to a stop to look at the rack of magazines. ‘She’s really nice. And why wouldn’t she take you seriously?’
‘Have you even looked at me tonight?’ Camilla seemed ready to cry. ‘I’m shooting footage on a smartphone. And, and, and . . . I’m wearing completely the wrong beret!’ Camilla tore off her plum-coloured beret and looked at it sadly. ‘I need my black one when I talk to her. It’s my lucky beret!’
‘Camilla –’
Camilla shook her head, backing away from the aisle where Lillian stood, obliviously browsing a magazine. ‘I should go. I’ve got everything I need for the Pall Bearers’ video, so I’m just going to . . . to . . .’
Run away, Olivia finished silently for her friend, as Camilla turned and scuttled off without another word.
Sighing, Olivia started to follow, but then stopped. Wait a minute. Something about Lillian’s appearance had been niggling at her ever since she’d seen her stepmom turn on to the aisle, but talking with Camilla had distracted her.
What was it?
Frowning, she peered back around the corner display. Aha.
Unlike the last time she’d seen Lillian, her stepmom no longer looked ‘less-than-perfect’. In fact, Lillian had somehow found a way to look too perfect. Flicking through the magazine, in an elegant black twin set and pearls, she looked more like someone who should have been on their way to a fancy vampire banquet, rather than ordinary grocery shopping. Her hair was pulled back by a velvet headband, her make-up was perfectly – and elaborately – applied, and . . . Are those false eyelashes?!
Olivia stared in disbelief at Lillian’s thick black eyelashes, which were at least half-an-inch longer than usual.
Lillian would have seemed perfectly put together – for a Hollywood party! – if it weren’t for the glazed look in her eyes. As she put the magazine back and pushed the cart slowly down the aisle, her gaze sailed over the books and newspapers on the shelves, clearly not taking in a single thing. And as for her ‘shopping’ –