Love in La La Land

by Lynn Forth

  ‘After supper, we sat on the back porch…yes, really,’ he laughed as Jane’s eyes widened, ‘…as homespun as that. I told her why I was there, about you and about Charlie—’

  ‘Oh no,’ groaned Jane. ‘I don’t want her to like my book out of sympathy.’

  ‘Neither do I. And I can tell you, she won’t. She actually said as much. But she has said that she will read it. Which I know she will. And she will get back to me when she has. That’s as far as it goes. I don’t want to raise your hopes too high, but I reckon,’ Jack crossed his fingers, ‘I could just see her playing Dee Dixon, Sophie’s tough boss. What do you think?’

  ‘Yes, yes. She would be perfect.’ Jane could barely contain her excitement. ‘Oh, Jack, that would be amazing.’

  ‘But we don’t know yet,’ he warned.

  ‘Just imagine if she did like it. Would that mean someone would buy it?’

  ‘Not a hundred per cent. But at least it’s a hope.’

  ‘Yes, oh yes. Oh, how can I ever thank you?’ She showered him with a torrent of kisses.

  ‘Whoa, girl, it’s not happened yet. And even if it is optioned, it doesn’t guarantee it will be made. Some options languish for ever in no man’s land.’

  He took her hand in his, suddenly serious. ‘But if – just if – it did, we could adapt it together. In fact, I’ve been wondering if you’d like to start learning the screenwriting ropes with me now. I’ve got a couple of projects on the go, and one of them is right up your street.’

  As he began enthusiastically outlining the plot, Jane had a sudden sinking feeling that she had been in this situation before. Sitting on a rumpled bed, with an excited man persuading her to do something…something she didn’t really want to do.

  Darren. He’d been persuading her to go on an expensive skiing holiday.

  ‘But I can’t ski,’ she remembered protesting.

  ‘Never mind. You’ll soon learn. I’ll show you. But we’ve got to decide today. It’s a special favour from a mate, two places in this luxurious hotel. Yes, yes, I know it’s a lot of money…but well worth it, and of course I’ll pay you back as soon as that contract comes in.’

  Despite her misgivings, she had agreed…and hated it. Darren hadn’t helped her to learn. She had been stuck in all her expensive new gear on the nursery slopes amongst the kids, whilst he went flying off with his boorish mates. She had stuck it for three days, then given up and gone back to her room to write. The accusations of party-pooper and spoilsport had hurt at first. Eventually, she had realised that she shouldn’t have said, ‘I can’t ski.’ She should have said, ‘I don’t want to ski.’

  Why had this memory surfaced now? Jack was so very different from Darren, but the situation seemed similar. Did she want to be a scriptwriter, to learn to adapt books?

  The problem was, she really did want this man. More than anything, she really wanted him. But did she want him enough to learn to ski?

  Jack paused. Obviously, her response wasn’t what he expected.

  ‘Are you OK, Jane?’

  ‘Yes, yes. I just need a bit of time to think. It’s…it’s not quite what… I don’t know, I can’t put it into words right now.’

  ‘I’m sorry, my darling. It’s all come a bit thick and fast, I suppose.’

  Jane gazed up into his earnest brown eyes. ‘Yes, and I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for—’

  ‘Stop feeling so beholden, my love. I haven’t done anything I didn’t want to do, and obviously I have ulterior motives. Apart from helping with Charlie’s fees, I want you to stay. I can’t believe you were going to fly home.’

  Jane gulped. How close she had come to leaving, believing that all was lost. When all the time he had been doing so much…for her.

  He stretched his long, lean torso, then bounded off the bed.

  ‘So, my love, I think it’s time to enjoy ourselves. The sun is shining, and you say that Charlie is recovering nicely. Let’s unpack that case of yours and begin to enjoy the wonderful sights of ‘Frisco. I said I would show you Chinatown, and Alcatraz, and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Must be all that…ahem…exercise. I’ve just got a couple of calls to make, to cancel some meetings. So, go and put some glad-rags on, and let’s hit the town.’

  As she stood up to go, he gave her a playful slap on her bare behind. Grinning, she ran into her bedroom and saw her suitcase.

  She turned and looked out of the window at the stunning view of San Francisco, spread out in its glittering, iconic wonder before her. With a shock, homesickness hit her like a physical blow in the solar plexus. Gasping for air, she collapsed on the bed.

  What was she doing here?

  A gleaming motorbike threaded its way through the shiny silver cars. Like that paparazzi, who had snapped her coming out of the hotel.

  Was this what she wanted?

  When Jack breezed in, Jane was standing fully dressed, staring out of the window deep in thought.

  He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘It’s a wonderful city, isn’t it? I’ve just booked us into a rather nice little restaurant, a bit off the beaten track—’

  ‘So the paps won’t see us.’ Jane finished his sentence for him.

  ‘Well, yes, but it’s also—’

  ‘But it didn’t work last time.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Scott’s spies still followed us. They were watching us at the beach restaurant that day.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘He told me.’

  ‘Well, we’ll just have to be more careful.’

  ‘But I don’t want to be careful, Jack.’

  She turned to face him, trying to keep her voice calm despite the turmoil in her heart.

  ‘And it’s not that I don’t want to go out and have lunch with you. Normally, I would love to go and see all those sights you mention, but…but…I can’t do this any more. How can we relax? It’s not right that we have to look over our shoulders for photographers all the time. And yes, they may not bother us here. But then what? What happens when we go back there…to La La Land?’

  Jack shrugged. ‘I know it’s not easy. I struggled with the fish bowl at first, but you just have to learn to live with it.’

  ‘No, Jack. Why do you have to learn to live with it? It’s not right. When even someone like Merle has to live in Wyoming to escape it, it’s just not right. And it’s not right that they can spy on us and then invent nasty stories about us.’

  Jack was clearly taken aback at the intensity of her words, but she couldn’t stop herself. She had to say it.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jack. I can never go back to that tawdry place. I can’t bear the thought that, at any point, I could read lies and misinterpretations about me, about us, and not be able to do anything about it.

  ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t bear for anything like that fabricated story to come between us again. I can’t…’ she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly, ‘I won’t live my life with suspicion, and subterfuge, and secrecy, and lies.’

  Clearly shaken, Jack looked deep into her eyes. ‘I suppose we don’t have to live in Tinseltown. And no, not Wyoming either.’ He gave a shaky laugh.

  His phone rang. Engrossed in their conversation, he moved to switch it off then seemed to freeze as he saw the caller’s name on his screen.

  ‘One minute, Jane. Sorry, I have just got to take this.’ He loped across the lounge and closed his bedroom door as he answered it.

  Jane sat down on the bed, waiting sadly for the return of the man she loved. What she was about to do, what she must do, was going to be the hardest thing in her life. She steeled herself not to break down.

  Eyes alight, Jack returned, then paused uncertainly as he saw her face.

  ‘I’ve been thinking. I understand your feelings about Tinseltown and, of course, I agree with you, but we don’t have to actually live there.’

  Jane’s heart jumped at the thought that he was assuming
they would live together somewhere. This was going to be so hard.

  He was continuing in full enthusiastic flow. ‘OK, guess who that was? No, silly game. I’ll tell you. It was Merle. Yes siree, my darling. She has read it. Already! She has actually read it, and yes, she loves it. Genuinely loves it!’ He punched the air in exhilaration. Pulling Jane off the bed and into his arms, he kissed her vehemently on the lips before swinging her round.

  Jane laughed, caught up in his elation. Just over a week ago this was a dream. An impossible goal. Now, thanks to Jack, it was actually happening.

  ‘Oh, how absolutely amazing,’ she breathed, elated. ‘Isn’t she wonderful? She actually took the time…’

  ‘I know. I know.’ He nodded. ‘She really is one of the good people, true to her word. You see, they do exist, even in La La Land.’

  ‘I know you think I’m too hard on Hollywood, Jack, but—’

  ‘Don’t worry. I understand.’ As if soothing a fractious child, he began gently stroking her back. ‘That place is one hell of a culture shock. I had forgotten how much I had to learn when I first came. But good things do happen. Listen to this. I haven’t got to the best bit.’

  His face broke into an even wider grin. ‘Merle has already phoned Max Mostyn to recommend—’

  ‘Max Mostyn?’ Jane stiffened and pulled away.

  ‘Yes, Max Mostyn. He’s a big producer, one of the biggest.’ He looked down at her, puzzled. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I know who he is. I met him at Bruno’s party. Jack, he’s a sleaze ball.’

  Jack looked rueful. ‘Ah yes, he’s not the most fragrant flower in the bunch, I agree.’

  Seeing the look of disdain on her face, he frowned.

  ‘Come on, Jane. How do you think Max got to where he is now? By being nice to people? The movers and shakers in this place have had to cold-bloodedly claw their way to the top. They are ruthless. But they get things done…like making your…our film. You have to live in the real world.’

  Jane couldn’t hide her distaste. ‘He who sups with the devil must use a long spoon,’ she said quietly.

  Impatiently, Jack snapped. ‘So, what do you want, Jane? Do you want me to phone Merle and say, “No, don’t bother contacting Max, Miss High and Mighty Jane Jones from Yorkshire doesn’t approve of him”?’

  Jane quailed at the anger in his voice.

  ‘No, no, of course not.’

  ‘So what, Jane? I don’t get it. A week ago, you were desperate to sell your book. You unwillingly stayed at Scott’s, in the hope he’d get you a deal.’

  Pacing up and down, clearly struggling to keep his voice calm, he went on, ‘I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or anything, but knowing how much you needed this deal, I travelled miles to get this book to Merle. She then pulled out all the stops to read it, is going to put her neck on the line to put it in front of someone who, on her recommendation, could pay you big bucks for it. And you are wrinkling your dainty little nose.’

  He stopped pacing, his frustration evident. ‘So, Jane, tell me what do you want?’

  Faced with his angry eyes, Jane took a deep breath. ‘I want… I want… Oh, Jack, this is breaking my heart, but I must say it. Thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart,’ she said shakily. ‘Thank you for all you’ve done for me and—.’

  ‘Cut the bullshit, Jane. I can feel a huge “but” coming on.’

  Despite the hammering in her chest, Jane persevered, ‘And also for offering to teach me how to adapt stories for films. And yes, there is a big “but” coming.’ She swallowed a huge lump in her throat. ‘You asked me what I want, but it’s what I don’t want that matters. This is going to sound so ungrateful, especially as I suggested it a bit ago, but I know I don’t want to adapt other people’s stories. I have too many of my own I want to write.’

  Jack turned away so she couldn’t see his face. There followed a long silence. To Jane, all life seemed suspended while she waited for his reaction.

  Eventually, his voice growled, ‘OK. So, that’s what you don’t want. I asked what you do want.’

  Dare she say it? She had come this far. She thought she had lost him once, and knew how that felt. She must make him understand the depth of her love for him. But not love at any cost.

  ‘Jack, I want you. I want you so much. I have never wanted anyone as much in my life…but not this place, this lifestyle. You are the one thing that is right, but everything else is so wrong.’

  Jack was standing very still.

  ‘So, what do you suggest?’ he said coldly.

  ‘I hate the thought of leaving but…in the end, I realise I’ve got to go from this unreal world. I must return home.’

  ‘Of course. Home. Home to your London flat which, if this book deal goes through, you can now keep.’ His voice sounded bitter.

  ‘No, not London. Home, back to Yorkshire. If there’s one thing my stay here, and in London, has taught me, it’s that I know where I belong.’

  Jack gave an exasperated shrug.

  ‘Yes, I know it sounds pathetic, “there’s no place like home”. But it’s not a Dorothy cliché. It’s a conscious decision about what I want, what I need in my life – roots, honesty, and yes, family. I won’t be going back to live with them, but I will be going to what I feel is home. Everything I believe in is there.’

  Jack turned slowly to face her, his body rigid as he stared at her intently.

  She lowered her eyes, afraid he would see just how much she yearned for him. If he took her in his arms, she was frightened all her resolve would crumble.

  She deliberately stepped back towards the window. Facing the busy, shiny view of the city going about its hectic business, she felt they were in a cocoon of stillness.

  ‘I think you know how much I…care for you,’ she went on haltingly. ‘But I have to go away from this back-stabbing, narcissistic world. I would always feel insecure fearing that someone, somewhere, would engineer something awful. I know the lowly status of writers, and I would hate to be dependent for my livelihood on the benevolence of unscrupulous slime balls like Max Mostyn. And, don’t forget, we have some powerful enemies. Bruno and Scott wouldn’t let us rest, no matter where we lived and no matter how we tried. Eventually, they would find a crack, and mistrust would enter our lives.’

  In the silence, she could tell Jack was listening to her passionate outburst. But his powerful shoulders were still rigid, his face unyielding.

  ‘And you would soon see that my heart wasn’t in adapting scripts. Can you imagine the tensions that would bring?’ She struggled not to plead, to keep her tone measured. ‘I’m saying all this because I care for you, because I care for you too much. And I care about us. What we have had so far is so precious, I can’t bear for it to be spoilt by a long, grinding disillusionment. I can’t do an affair with you, Jack. I’m a permanent sort of girl and I want to go where I can live a real…an honest life, with people around me that I can trust.’

  Suddenly exhausted by her outpourings, she moved to sit on the bed.

  Jack still hadn’t moved.

  ‘So, you are offering me an ultimatum.’ His ice-cold voice sent shivers through her heart.

  ‘No, no, far from it. I don’t expect you to do anything. Please, please, don’t make this harder than it is. You mean too much to me… I’d rather we left each other as friends than…’

  Wracked with emotion, she whispered, ‘I have to protect my heart.’

  But, too late. Jack had stalked out of the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  He heard her phone for a taxi. Despite his anger, he found himself watching her wheel her little suitcase to the door.

  Standing in the doorway, he looked down at her, just as he had that first time. But now, the shock of that first meeting had been replaced with…something else. Something indefinable, some powerful emotion he was still trying to decipher.

  He was still angry. She had used him to get what she wanted – a potential deal on her book. And
now she was leaving. About to go out of his life forever.

  Her apparent calmness was belied by the trembling in her hands and the anguish in her face. He marvelled at her resolve in doing something that was obviously causing her such pain.

  Of course, she was right. Someone as principled and outspoken as her wouldn’t survive in the jungle of Hollywood. Why should she? So strong-minded, and yet, her pale face seemed so vulnerable. He wanted to sweep her in his arms and protect her.

  His anger at her suddenly dissolved. Of course, she hadn’t used him. Everything he had done was out of…what? Why had he moved heaven and earth to help her? Somehow, this stubborn, opinionated daydreamer who insisted on living in her world, not his, had got under his skin. Somehow, she had awoken deep longings in his soul for another life.

  What integrity! She refused to compromise her principles, as he had been doing for years. And in spite of the personal cost to herself, she knew what was right.

  And suddenly, so did he.

  Something crystallised in his mind, and a slow smile spread over his face.

  She looked up. Her eyes were red from weeping, but she had never looked more beautiful.

  ‘I’m just going down to get my taxi…so I just want to say goodbye and—’

  ‘No, Jane, not goodbye, not even au revoir, because I’m coming with you.’

  Her eyes registered her shock.

  ‘If you’ll let me.’

  ‘Oh Jack, of course I’ll let you. But…you mean…back to England?’

  ‘No, not England…Yorkshire. Do you really think I can live here now, without you? Without my love?’

  He saw her eyes glimmer with hope.

  ‘How can I possibly let you go? I love you.’

  There, he had said it. For the first time ever. And from the answering glow in her eyes, he knew she felt it, too.

  ‘I love you.’ He said it again.

  It was such a wonderful thing to say, to declare it out loud to this speechless woman in front of him. He felt the truth of it reverberate around his heart, his mind, his whole body. It took his breath away with the complete awareness that this was what he had been waiting for, hoping for – and now it was real.