I pull open one of the curtains behind me. Kennedy was right. The beach does look lovely and calm… I screw up my courage and take a tentative sip of the sludge. Ooh! It actually tastes quite nice – like lime and mint and apples and, well, seeds.
I gingerly step out of the bed and very very slowly get changed into my too-tight navy blue swimming costume, covering it up with one of my too-tight sundresses. I pop in my contact lenses and flinch as what I’m starting to think is a scratch from the wind dirt stings again. I shouldn’t really be wearing them, but I can hardly swim in my glasses. I grab some of the soothing eye drops Billy Fever told me to use and it softens the niggle.
In the living room, I down a pint of water, while a bikini-clad Kennedy finishes whatever she’s typing up and grabs a polka-dotted beach bag from the floor beside her. I think we’re about to make it out of the house without running into Brandon when he comes down the stairs, dressed only in a white towel slung low on his hips.
Wow. Brandon works out. My eyes widen a little bit at his toned, tanned stomach.
He catches me looking and grins, runs a hand through his wet blonde hair, flexing his bicep a little as he does so.
I look away quickly, to find Kennedy giggling and rolling her eyes. ‘TMI Brandon,’ she says, miming a vomiting motion. ‘Come on, Nora. Let’s get out there.’
The ocean is an amazing cure for a hangover. As long as you take away the swimming part and focus on just lying there. I allow my body to get used to the slightly cool temperature before floating along, letting the gentle crystal-clear waves do all the work. My eyes squint from the glare of a sun that is bright and eager.
‘You actually have to do some swimming!’ Kennedy admonishes as she flips past me, her long blonde hair fanning out behind her and making her look like a Californian mermaid. ‘Get those endorphins going. Endorphins bring joy!’
I internally roll my eyes and join her as she swims further out towards a bright yellow buoy. I’m usually more of a gentle stretch on the bedroom floor type, but I have to admit that it feels nice to push myself a little more.
After some more intense swimming, I feel a pleasant ache in my limbs. I stop and tread water, catching my breath and enjoying the taste of salt on my lips.
‘So, did you and Brandon have a nice time chatting last night?’ Kennedy asks, bobbing along beside me.
I narrow my eyes. What does she know? What do I say?
I clear my throat. ‘Yes, it was nice,’ I offer neutrally.
‘He’s great right?’ she asks. ‘He can be a little surly, sure, but he’s a softie at heart…’
‘He seemed pretty cut up about Elsie Grainger.’
Until he tried to kiss me, I don’t add.
‘Yeah, he fell pretty deep for that one. She was not good to him. He deserves something nice to happen. He’s had a tough time, romantically.’
I nod slowly. ‘He should get back out there. Find someone to distract him from feeling so sad and cynical.’
‘That’s exactly what I think!’ Kennedy agrees, smiling a weirdly big smile before taking off into another speedy breaststroke.
I remain in the same spot and, squinting back at the beach, I can’t help but sigh at how beautiful and peaceful it looks. The sky is a soft blush pink and streaked cerulean blue. The hazy light is almost dreamlike. I think of Mum and Dad and wish that I believed in heaven, because if I did, it would look like this beach and this sky and my parents would be there, as happy and in love as they ever were.
I dunk my head under the water in a bid to stop my sudden sadness in its tracks and when I bob back up, I catch sight of two men jogging down the beach. They’re far away and the sun is in my eyes, but one of them stops to catch his breath, hands on his knees and looks out towards the water. I wonder if he can see me from all the way over there. I’m tempted to lift my arm and wave at the stranger, but I don’t in case he thinks I’m signalling for help.
The other guy, yanks the man’s arm as if to say ‘Come on!’ and they take off, running back down the beach.
I chuckle to myself. Running at this time in the morning is even weirder than swimming. And Imogene says I’m the crazy one.
I flip around onto my back again and watch a single wispy pink cloud float by. I stay there for a while and it occurs to me that the reason Kennedy is always so serene is because she gets to do this every day.
By the time we get back to the house, I am shattered, my whole body aching and tingling, but in a pleasant way. My hangover has completely gone, just as Kennedy said it would!
I dry myself off and sit down on my bed to do some work, which, while incredibly boring, is very simple and easy to whizz through. Afterwards, I grab my phone to check my daily Google Alerts on Gary’s name. Oh, there’s an article on Variety.com. I click it open and gasp as I read the words on the screen.
Here it is. Here is my chance!
I scurry into the living room. ‘Gary is going to be doing the handprint ceremony at the Chinese Theatre!’ I say to Kennedy.
Kennedy looks surprised at my excitable outburst. ‘Really? I’m surprised he’s doing that already. I didn’t think he’d done enough movies…’
‘It’s obviously because they know how amazing he is,’ I say, as if I know the man personally. ‘He deserves all the success. The public can go to these things, can’t they? I’ve seen pictures online.’
‘They can,’ Kennedy nods, pulling her bathrobe more tightly around her. ‘It’s a pretty open space, so I guess we can go see him do the ceremony. The celebrities usually sign autographs for the fans—’
‘So I could meet him. I could actually meet him.’ My skin springs into goosebumps at the thought of seeing Gary in real life again, and this time without being thwarted by stoopid Nicolas Cage and that horrid security guard from the set, John Alan. I feel slightly breathless with anticipation.
‘When is it?’ Kennedy asks. ‘Will you still be here?’
‘Yes! It’s on Wednesday. At 2 p.m.’
‘Oh! That’s super soon.’
‘Yes! Hurrah! I was starting to feel convinced that I really was as crazy as everyone thought, but after what happened at the beach – finding out about Gary’s bookish tastes and meeting Tori – I know that I HAVE to do this.’
Kennedy nods thoughtfully, her eyes slightly narrowed.
‘Okay…’ she says slowly. ‘Wednesday is three days away, right? So… how about, if you don’t have to do any Gary-based sleuthing for the next few days, you use that time to joy seek in LA with me?’ She points a thumb at herself to indicate. ‘I mean, I have work and prep for my anchor audition, but there’s plenty of time. It would be a real shame for you to miss out on this place, especially as you’re on such a short trip.’
I consider her suggestion. The thought of doing lots of activities for the next few days sounds exhausting. But I did agree to try to find some joy. And hanging out with new people hasn’t actually been as tough as I thought it would be…’
‘That sounds great. But no more drinking! I have to keep a clear head.’
Kennedy holds her hand out to shake mine. ‘Me too. Yay! Joy ahoy!’
Imogene’s phone rings for half a ring before she picks up.
‘Finally!’ she breathes, her voice tight. ‘I’ve been worried. You got kicked off a film set? Are you okay? Maybe you should come home. The last thing you need is to get arrested in a foreign country!’
Imogene’s intensity would ordinarily have my shoulders up around my ears, but after the swim and all the great Gary progress, I am channelling Kennedy with my levels of serenity. ‘I’m fine, silly.’ I laugh. ‘I’ve been texting you.’
‘Yes, but it’s not the same as hearing your voice. I can’t tell if you’re lying through a text, but I can from your voice.’
‘I am fine, I promise,’ I say. And for the first time in a long time, I think I might actually mean it. ‘I am getting plenty of vitamin D, just like you wanted.’
‘You wearing plenty of sun
cream?’
‘Yep.’
‘Hmm. Tell me about what happened on the film set? What is your online friend like? Did you really meet Nicolas Cage? Are you feeling, you know, sane?’
I laugh, take a deep breath and regale Imogene with the tales of the last few days, leaving no stone unturned. When I’m finished, there’s a pause on the other end of the phone. ‘Imogene? Are you there? Have I been talking to a dead line?’
‘I’m here,’ Imogene says. ‘You sound… different.’
‘Good different or bad different?’ I ask.
‘Good. I think. You sound more, I don’t know, awake. And this Kennedy? She sounds cool. I’m definitely less worried than I was.’
‘That’s good. And Kennedy is so, so great. You would really like her, I think.’
‘Tell me more about this Brandon guy. He sounds hot.’
‘Oh, he’s all right. He’s no Gary, of course. And he can be pretty damn grumpy.’
‘Grumpy can be sexy, in the right light.’
‘Nah, I’m not into it.’
‘Are you sure? You like Mr Darcy and he was grumpy!’
‘Grumpy is not hot in real life. It’s just dickish. I’m here to meet Gary Montgomery! That’s why you made me come here, Imogene!’
‘And you still genuinely believe that he’s your soulmate?’
I can hear her scepticism from all the way across the Atlantic.
‘Even more than I did when I saw him at the pictures.’ I say. ‘I saw him across the movie lot and I felt this absolute buzz rush through my body! I’m so sure of how I feel. I’ve never felt so sure about anything.’
‘Hmmm. Just… be careful, okay. I think what this Kennedy suggested about having a little fun for the next few days sounds like a great idea. And maybe you’ll get to hang out with Hot Brandon some more.’
‘You can’t call him Hot Brandon! You’ve never even seen him… I mean, he is handsome, but in a very typical sort of way. Not like Gary. Gary’s eyes are so dark they look black. Do you know how rare that is?’
Imogene sighs quietly. ‘Listen,’ she says in a serious voice. ‘Please be prepared for the fact that this Gary Montgomery thing isn’t likely to turn out how you want it to…’
‘You don’t know that, Imogene.’
‘I sort of do, though… and I know I sent you out there, which may have been a major mistake. I couldn’t live with myself if me trying to give you a much-needed dose of reality ended up with you coming back to Brigglesford way worse off than when you left…’
To my surprise, my stomach drops a little at the suggestion of being back in Brigglesford.
‘How are you, anyway?’ I ask quickly, changing the subject from Imogene’s naysaying, which is totally confusing my newly unflustered mood. ‘How’s Ariana? How’s Dan?’
‘Oh, we’re all fine!’ Imogene says in a voice that sounds a little less buoyant than usual. ‘Everything’s fine! Same as usual, I suppose.’
‘Are you sure? What have you been up to?’
‘Working, mothering, wifing, going to the gym. Over and over again for forever and ever! Ha ha! Everything’s great.’ Her voice slightly cracks.
‘You don’t sound great,’ I say, feeling surprised and worried to hear Imogene sounding anything other than a woman who has her shit completely together. I sit back against my pillows. ‘Want to talk about it? I know it’s always you giving me advice, and admittedly I am not the wisest person around, but I can at least listen if you’re feeling a bit shit?’
‘I’m fine, honestly!’ Imogene chirrups, faux cheerily. ‘I’m just hormonal, I think! Listen, I have to go. Ariana’s done a massive poo and it stinks. I have to go and change her, keep me updated with everything, okay? Everything!’
‘Definitely. Love you, Im.’
‘Love you, Sis.’
When the phone call ends, I stare at the wall for a bit, alarmed and saddened at Imogene’s unusual flatness. I wonder what’s going on with her? Was she hormonal or is it something more? Before I can think about it too much, though, Kennedy warns me that she’s about to enter my area and swishes open the heavy curtain. She asks me to listen to a bunch of new, more serious, story ideas she has for her anchor audition. When Winklepuff joins her, jumping up onto the bed and frantically licking my face with his disgusting tongue, I laugh so much that all anxious thoughts about Imogene float out of my head.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gary
Hey,
I am now being shadowed by my new bodyguard every second I’m at work. Yup. The studio also insist that John Alan escorts me to and from the set every day. I know this guy is only trying to look out for me, to protect me from this stalker woman, and I hate to be negative about people I don’t know very well, but he’s, well, he’s kind of a dick. He has a gun, which I hate, and he acts like he’s Bruce Willis in the Die Hard movies. Only with none of the coolness. He’s shaped like a barrel on two sticks and he makes me stand behind him every time we’re about to turn a corner. He puts a hand on his gun and hisses at me to RETREAT! It’s getting embarrassing.
Just yesterday, I caught a couple of the crew snickering at me while John Alan smelled every single one of the blueberry muffins at craft services before he allowed me to have one. Nicolas Cage has taken to singing ‘I Will Always Love You’ from The Bodyguard when he sees me with John, which is nuts because that guy has more than his fair share of an entourage.
It wouldn’t even be so bad if I got on with John Alan. I’ve tried making conversation with him, but his eyes are always darting from side to side, seeking out possible threats. I asked him what his favourite movie was and he said it was The Next Karate Kid. Not Karate Kid One or Two or Three. The Next Karate Kid. And, really, doesn’t that tell me all I need to know about him?
I’ve promised the studio and Aileen that I won’t leave my house without him, but I’ve been sneaking out early mornings to run with Seth. Which brings me to my three amazing things for today.
Seth is planning on asking Olive to marry him. He’s going to do it back in New York at Gramercy Park, but he’s already asked me to be his best man. I’m fucking psyched for him. I’ve never seen a couple more in love than those two… It makes me feel all kinds of romantic. Maybe I’ve been too hasty in putting off a proposal to Tori. I mean, it’s inevitable, right? I’m a grown adult man and I’m happy with her. It makes total sense…
This morning, Seth and I went for a run on the beach, just after the sun came up. The sky was insane, all pink and blue streaks. It was like something out of a dream. The sky is the best thing about LA. I saw someone far out in the ocean, just treading water. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, but I couldn’t stop watching them. It made me eager to be back in the water, bobbing around and staring up at that sky.
I saw the dailies from the past two days of shooting and I’m feeling really proud of the work we’re doing. The rest of the cast and crew are cool and fun to be around and it just re-enforced to me that, despite the negatives, I’m lucky to be doing this. In fact, it’s the best thing in my life right now and that’s all thanks to Tori and Aileen. If I can get Aileen to read Olive’s script and agree that it would be great for me—and John Alan to go away—things might actually start feeling better.
Gotta go. John Alan is waiting to take me home and he’s staring impatiently at me with those weird shark eyes. Time to let him escort me through these dangerous streets and protect me from potential death by butter knife.
Chapter Thirty
Nora
I don’t think I have ever been this tired before. And I don’t mean mentally tired in the way I usually feel at the end of a working week, or every time I think about my parents, or when Imogene tells me about the various attributes of Roger Pepper, but physically exhausted. Like I could fall asleep wherever I lay my head, which has never, ever happened in my life and especially not the past two years, when I’ve not had a single full night of sleep that I can recall.
Knowing
just when Gary is going to be at the Chinese Theatre means that Kennedy and I’ve been able to spend the last three days acting like tourists. Zipping around a busy, glamorous, hot and windy city is not something I ever thought I’d enjoy doing. But, although I’m knackered, I’m feeling better than I have in quite a while. It’s a feeling I didn’t even realise I was missing.
Every quiet, before-bed moment I have is spent reading the newest Harcourt Royals book, because a) It is the very best of all the books, and b) Kennedy has read it and it’s winding me up that she knows how it ends and I don’t. And then every second not spent reading, sleeping, eating, walking Winklepuff or thinking about Gary Montgomery has been crammed with activity. I’ve barely had time to pee, let alone think constantly about how it’s my fault that my parents are dead. I mean, the thought is still there, but it’s a little quieter than usual and that, frankly, feels like a sweet relief.
Yesterday, after we went swimming, Kennedy drove me around on a tour of LA’s best bookshops, including a gigantic one that was housed in an abandoned bank. In one of the bookshops, I found a whole set of signed Harcourt Royals books, which made me jump with joy until I realised that I am pretty damn skint and can’t afford to buy stuff like that. But when we stopped off for lunch at a trendy and Insta-famous Taco Truck, Kennedy opened up a bag and revealed that she had secretly bought me the signed set while I was taking Winklepuff for a wee! And that made me cry because even before Mum and Dad, back when I had friends and a social life, I never met anyone who was so genuinely lovely and kind as Kennedy Jane Cooper.
In the afternoon, Kennedy had to work on her news story, so I took myself and Winklepuff back to the dog-friendly beach for another special rocky road ice cream. The Adonis who served me last time seemed very pleased to see me.
He Will Be Mine: The brand new laugh out loud page turner! Page 15
