A Sneaky Peek at 'A Very British Sort of Bliss'

I was relieved that Mom would be filming the night before my first day at my new London school. The last thing I needed was some sugar-coated lecture on the exciting possibilities of a new life experience (barf!). My introduction to life in England hadn’t exactly gotten off to a great start. And as I lay on my bed and regarded the plaid uniform that was hanging outside of my closet, the signs for any immediate improvement in my life were looking pretty ominous.

So when I heard a knock on my bedroom door I knew I didn’t want company.

‘I’m not here,’ I yelled.

‘Well, strictly speaking, neither am I,’ said a familiar voice as my bedroom door was flung open.

It was Grandma Ellen!

‘Tell me you’re here to rescue me,’ I said as we hugged.

‘Wish I could Sweetie,’ said Grandma as she tilted my face up towards the light, ‘but I’m in enough trouble as it is.’

She released my face with a dramatic flourish. ‘You know, you have perfect pores. Great genes and youth; if they could only bottle it and sell it then a lot of plastic surgeons would be kissing their ferarris goodbye.’

Ellen threw herself onto my couch and perched her feet on a huge mound of cushions. She surveyed her feet with irritation.

‘You know all that flying will give me the ankles of an old lady if I am not careful.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ellen,’ I said (I always knew just what to say whenever she was fishing for a compliment). ‘But you really should wear comfortable shoes when you fly.’

‘Now Bliss,’ said Ellen, ‘you know that I am a simple creature. But I do have my standards and unlike your Mom I refuse to be seen in public wearing any item of clothing with the word sweat in its name. You can tell what kind of a person someone is by looking at their shoes, and these Jimmy Choos are my simple way of announcing to the world that I have a commitment to all that is fabulous. Besides, isn’t it a sin to hide your light under a bushel?’

I looked at the diamond-studded shoes with the killer heels and smiled my reply. Nobody could accuse Ellen of being a shrinking violet.

‘Didn’t Mom just send you on a cruise?’ I asked.

‘Now I really do not want to badmouth your Mom,’ said Ellen, ‘but the woman went and put me on a slow boat to China. And I mean literally. She said it would be a lovely surprise. And the next thing I know I’m cruising down the Yangtze River with a bunch of people who looked like they had just escaped from a retirement home! Can you believe it? I mean I enjoy a little culture as much as the next person, but if I never see another temple again it will be too soon… In the end I had to fake appendicitis just so they’d evacuate me to Hong Kong. Frankly, why anyone would choose to sail through some old ruins when there are some SERIOUSLY marvellous shoe shops and spas just a short hop away is quite simply beyond me. I don’t know what your Mom was thinking.’

I was pretty confident I knew exactly what Mom was thinking, but I kept my mouth shut. I doubted that Ellen wanted to be reminded of Enrique – a young souvenir from her last cruise who turned out to be a complete love rat. His name had not been mentioned since he jilted her just days before they had planned their wedding. Mom probably figured that dancers like Enrique did not feature heavily on the itinerary of a cultural cruise of the Yangtze.

‘Of course, she wanted me out of the way, you know,’ said Ellen. ‘She made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want me tagging along on this trip to London. Why she imagined that I could not be trusted to keep a secret I’ll never know.’

Jet-lag had clearly chewed up Ellen’s brain. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I knew exactly why Mom wouldn’t want Ellen in London. My Grandma was not what you might call publicity shy. The last thing Mom needed was the worry of a surprise appearance by Ellen in the British media. It made perfect sense.

‘So you’re not staying?’ I asked, disappointed.

‘Sorry kiddo, but this is what you might call a flying visit. There’s a car waiting outside to transfer me to the private jet that an old pal of mine has sent to collect me. I can’t be expected to celebrate the New Year in Aspen until I’ve ironed out some of these creases,’ she said, pointing to her face. ‘And there’s an amazing clinic in Switzerland that can squeeze me in if I hurry.’

‘Can I come?’ I asked, being deliberately pathetic.

‘Just thank your lucky stars that you have at least another decade before you need to start thinking about finding a great surgeon,’ said Ellen. ‘What’s up? Is Angel giving you a hard time?’

I pointed to the uniform and watched Ellen shudder.

‘I either make it work in some all-girls school tomorrow or I’ll be sent to a boarding school in Arizona.’

‘What,’ said Ellen, ‘absolutely no boys?’

‘I’m not worried about there being no boys.’

‘Give it time,’ said Ellen.

‘I just want to go home,’ I said.

‘Listen Bliss,’ said Ellen, suddenly sitting up, ‘I’m gonna tell you something I told your Mom a long time ago; home is not a place – being home means being together. And right now you need to be with your Mom. Sure, I know she can be a little intense. But everything happens for a reason. And you have got to believe that you are here for a very good reason.’

There was a tap on my door as Bob, Mom’s head of security, announced his arrival.

‘Excuse me Ellen, ‘ he said, ‘but your driver says you need to leave now.’

‘I’m on my way,’ said Ellen, ‘just give us a minute please.’

Ellen waited to see Bob disappear from view before reaching into her huge Chanel purse. She rummaged around before she produced a gift and she carefully placed it into my hands.

‘I believe you have a right to this,’ she said with uncharacteristic seriousness. ‘Your Mom will not be happy with me; I know that. But even so, I want you to talk with her once you’ve had a chance to think. Don’t worry about getting me into trouble. It’s not as though your Mom can send me away to boarding school. If I can handle a cultural cruise up the Yangtze, I can handle anything.’

Ellen hugged me tight and left as quickly and as unexpectedly as she had arrived. The only proof I had of her visit was the gift in my hand. It was impossible to imagine just what it was about this particular tastefully-wrapped offering that could upset my Mom. Ellen’s gifts were usually expensive, designer-label accessories. Unless the box contained my passport and a ticket to Los Angeles it was unlikely to rock my world. As I ripped at the box is soon became clear that it contained nothing more exciting than a video…

Why had Ellen given me some old video that had been too lame to even make it to dvd?

I examined the cover for evidence. The movie had clearly been produced by a London studio – their Union Jack logo was sprawled next to the movie title. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that ‘Starship Survivors’ was some sort of a sci-fi creation. How old was it? There was the date, it was a year older than me..

Wait a minute, was my Mom’s face??

Suddenly I had a bing-bing-bing moment all of my own.

Mom had been talking about London for months before this trip, but she had never mentioned the fact that she had already shot a movie in England. And it was not in her nature to miss even the tiniest triumph from her hugely successful career. I could have sworn that I knew every last boring detail of Angel’s career, from her first job as the ‘Betsy Bubbles Baby’ right up to her last Golden Globe. But this English film was news to me. Something was definitely up.

I stared at the video with renewed interest.

There was only one possible explanation, because there was only one huge skeleton in our family cupboard. There was one question that was never answered. There was one discussion-free zone.

My heart suddenly felt as though it would jump right out of my chest. Because I knew, I just knew, that my Dad’s name was listed somewhere on those credits.

All I had to do now was to find him.