The California Club by Belinda Jones

'Please come through.'
    She guides us down a tier of terracotta tiles into a lounge softened with ornately-woven rugs in hues of coral and sea green. A trio of black wrought-iron chandeliers bear down on us from above as we pass through a series of arched beams, hand-painted with Moroccan-inspired patterns in rich rusts and golds.
    ‘Wow!’
    Straight ahead, dominating the room, is a magnificent floor-to-ceiling window. The glimmering sea entirely fills the frame, with just one gangly palm tree in the foreground. It's like desert island wallpaper, but for real.
    Elliot is sunk deep into a smooshy leather armchair, deeper still when Elise dumps herself on to his lap. Now from certain angles you can't see him at all. We take the gleaming teal velvet sofa, Sasha and I, sitting either side of Zoë, who grips our hands with ever firmer fervor. Meanwhile Helen inhales a nerve-quelling breath and leaves little smudgy fingerprints on the highly polished wood of the piano as she positions herself with her back to the window, eyes trained beyond us on reception.
    'That's all of us!' Elliot prompts her.
    'We're just waiting for …' Her face lights up. 'Here he is!'
    We turn back and see a man advancing in a sleek navy suit, sharp white shirt and sky blue silk tie. His thirtysomething face is tanned, his hair stylishly groomed and there's a tiny diamond stud winking from his left earlobe.
    Zoë's nails are now so deeply embedded in my palms I think they'll probably stay there even when she finally releases her grip.
    As he passes us, he acknowledges our 'Who he?' glances with a courteous nod and takes his position beside Helen, clearly a man on a mission.
    Assured of our full attention, he breaks into a disarming smile and says, 'Welcome to your first meeting of The California Club!'
    There's a buzz of anticipation and a speedy exchange of 'This is it!' looks.
    I can't believe we're so out in the open! Surely we should have traveled blindfold in the trunk of a car to some mystery location? At the very least I would have expected an underground bunker and the speaker to be lit by a flickering match. Instead he's flooded with sunlight and standing before a panoramic backdrop in a 'All of this could be yours' kind of way. Maybe that's the intention. Or maybe only official members get to go to CC HQ.
    'I've got tingles!' Zoë squeaks with excitement. She's scooted so far forward with eagerness that her bottom is only making the most token contact with the sofa. Any second now I expect her to drop to the floor adopting the 'on your marks' position, cocking her ear for the starter pistol. She's so ready for this.
    'My name is Alex Daniels and I'm the Club President. Helen has asked me here today as she would very much like you to share in the rewards she has experienced as a direct result from joining our cult, er—'
    'What?' There's a gasp of horror from his audience. Even Zoë flinches.
    He looks stricken at his mistake. 'Er, club!' he corrects himself. And then breaks into a giant grin. 'Just fooling!’
    ‘There's a wobbly sense of relief in the room.
    'I realize some of you may have reservations about our organization but The California Club has no intention of turning you into identikit zombies. Quite the opposite. Our aim is to wake you up to the thrill and fulfillment of being the best possible you.' He takes a breath. 'So my first question is this: Are you ready to change your lives?'
    'Yes!' hoots a lone voice.
    He steps towards it. 'I'm guessing you're Zoë?'
    She nods wide-eyed, as if he just told her she was the Chosen One.
    He extends his hand. 'Good to meet you.'
    She shakes it with ligament-dislocating vigor.
    He laughs, 'I can see we're going to have some fun channeling that energy of yours!'
    She has no idea what he means but looks enthralled.
    'You must be Sasha.' He moves on.
    She nods shyly, staring at his Italian leather shoes. He continues to hold her hand until she looks up into his dark blue eyes.
    'You're going to