As we drove along, palm trees were silhouetted against the skyline. The sun was setting and the sky was layered with colours: pale blue low down, rising and darkening overhead to a deep luminous blue, in which the first stars twinkled like pinholes in fabric.

We passed the neon lights of gas stations, motels offering waterbeds, billboards in Spanish, used-car lots, signs for Mexican food, chiropractors and houses with really high numbers. There couldn’t possibly be 22,000 houses on this road. Could there?

‘Maybe,’ Emily said. ‘Sunset is about twenty miles long.’

Sunset. She means Sunset Boulevard. I’m driving along Sunset Boulevard, I thought, feeling like I was in a film.

At some traffic intersection a man stood holding a ragged piece of cardboard, which said in big, crooked letters WIFE WANTED. There was even a phone number. He looked presentable enough, that was the weird thing.

‘There we are, Maggie,’ Emily indicated him. ‘May the best woman win.’

‘I’m already married,’ I said automatically.

Funny how you forget.

We pulled up in front of a big, white hotel, then some young men were upon us. For a mad moment I thought it might be because of my bee-stung lips and curly eyelashes, but they turned out to be valet parkers.

‘So you give them your car key and they park the car and bring it back when you want it!’ I’d heard of such a thing, but never before seen it in action. I find parking immensely stressful so I raved with praise for this most civilized of notions.

‘But you pay, they’re not doing it out of the goodness of their hearts,’ Emily said hastily. ‘And you’ve to give the driver a tip. In we go.’

It was a packed, vibey place. Everyone looked tanned and buffed and gorgeous. However, I wasn’t asked to leave. I liked them for that.

As soon as we were seated, Emily said, ‘Here’s Lara.’

There was a tall, blonde woman swinging herself past tables, and all I could think when I looked at her was: rolling fields of wheat. She had a gilded quality, as if she’d been dipped in golden syrup. There were a lot of beautiful people in that restaurant and she was possibly the best looking of them all.

‘Heeeyyy,’ she exclaimed at me, when Emily introduced us.

‘Hey,’ I replied. Normally I’d say ‘Hello’ or ‘Nice to meet you’, but I was keen to fit in.

The waiter arrived. Or should I say, the curtain went up. I’d been told that all waiting staff in Los Angeles were resting actors, and this Adonis was so beautiful and so ‘on’ that he just had to be a thesp.

‘Hey ladies,’ he dazzled. ‘My name is Deyan, I’m your server this evening and I’m going to give until it hurts.’

‘Who is that?’ Lara’s face, as she gazed at him, was puzzled. ‘Kevin Kline in In and Out? Or that guy from Will and Grace?’

Not you again, went Deyan’s alarmed look. ‘It’s my interpretation of Jack from Will and Grace,’ he admitted reluctantly.

‘I knew it!’ Lara was radiant. ‘You know what, Deyan? I’m not really in the mood for Jack tonight. Serve us in the style of…’ She swept a blue light over me and Emily. ‘Who do we want? Choose an actor. Arnie? Ralph Fiennes?’

‘I like Nicolas Cage,’ I confessed.

‘How about it?’ Lara questioned Deyan.

‘Which movie?’ he asked sulkily.

‘Wild at Heart?’ I suggested tentatively. ‘City of Angels?’

He became still and faraway, and I thought he was disgusted at my suggestions. Then his entire body assumed a lanky, boneless quality. ‘Rockin’ good news,’ he drawled. He had Nic’s heavy-lidded charm right down!

It was only when I heard myself laugh that I realized it was a long time since I’d found anything funny.

‘C’n I git you beautiful ladies a drink?’ Deyan husked slowly.

‘Vodkatini with Gray Goose, no ice and four olives,’ said Lara.

‘Apple Martini with Tanqueray and cracked ice,’ Emily decreed.

‘The same,’ I mumbled. ‘The apple one.’

‘Peanut, you got it!’

I had to admit to being absolutely astounded by this Lara. When I’d first clapped eyes on her swingy, honey-streaked hair and her taut, gold-leaf body, I’d immediately decided that if you looked up ‘Airhead’ in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of her. But she was intelligent as well as beautiful. I wasn’t entirely convinced this was fair.

Across by the bar, Deyan stopped abruptly, dropped as if he was about to kneel on one knee, but stopped about a foot from the floor, swivelled his body back to us, pointed a finger and winked. He mouthed some words, one of which was definitely ‘peanut’. I had to hand it to him, he was really working hard.

Then he was back with the drinks. Still in character he began, ‘And today’s specials are…’

Right away my brain went into Screensaver mode. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to know what the specials were, but something to do with maintaining eye contact for such a long time seemed to interfere with my hearing. It always happened.

‘… blah blah blah done in a blueberry blah…’

‘Ooh,’ I murmured appreciatively, nodding my head, still locked in that hideous eye-meet.

‘… blah blah blah served with blah blah and blah.’

‘Did anyone listen to that?’ Lara asked when he was gone. ‘I always get ADD when they start.’

Overjoyed that it wasn’t just me, I exclaimed, ‘It’s like when someone gives me directions. All my energy goes into nodding my head and looking attentive.’

Lara declared. ‘You go!’ (Big US of A compliment.) ‘Me too. I always get the start – “Make a right.” Then it’s like they scrambled the words and I only get, like, one in twenty –’

‘– “Second set of lights,”’ I chipped in.

–“Left on Doheny.” Where d’ya find her?’ She looked at Emily and pointed at me. ‘She’s great!’

Her effusive friendliness was over the top, but it still burnt off some of the sense of my own defectiveness. Who was this Lara? Apparently, she worked in a production company.

‘A movie-production company?’

She gave me a surprised look that said, Are there any other kinds? before nodding. ‘Sure, a movie one. An independent.’