Sarah couldn’t feel anything from the waist down. She tried to move, but everything was locked into a very unfamiliar position. She wiped the boulders of sleep out of her eyes and tried to sit up. She blinked a few times and reality gave her a slap in the face, which brought her round quite quickly. The sun was just coming up and she needed to get back to Kate’s. She set off and tried to study the road signs. Thankfully there were very few cars about at this stupid time in the morning and things did look more familiar in the daylight. Sarah was pleased when she swung the car onto Kate’s drive and let herself in as quietly as she could.
The piercing beep of the alarm was physically hurting Kate’s head as she rolled over and tried to focus on the impossibly small “off” switch of the alarm clock. Kate lay back on the pillows, closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic thud of her head. In the end she had gone for Option 2, having finished off the rest of the champagne.
Thankfully, it had assisted her in a good night’s sleep, but this morning the memories of last night’s fiasco flooded over her. She thought she was about to prove that it was actually possible to die of embarrassment. The one time in her life that she was impulsive and unpredictable, spontaneous and unstructured, and it all went horribly wrong. She still couldn’t believe that she had read Tim so wrongly. She’d had no explanation as to why he had come all that way and then said no.
She hated the fact that you always thought of the things you really wanted to say after they were actually of any use to you. The humiliation was painful, just like her head. Worse still, she had to face him today. She could call in sick, but that wasn’t her way. She couldn’t leave Marcus stranded with Che in one of his moods; it was best to face up to the situation. Kate rolled out of bed, avoided the mirror, and headed for the extra-strong paracetamol. Her own problems ebbed away when she saw the sorry sight that was Sarah hunched up at the kitchen table hugging a mug.
“Painkillers?” asked Kate.
“Got any cyanide?”
“No, I’m all out, I’m afraid.”
“Andy’s seeing Melanie,” stated Sarah, her eyes still focused on the table.
“Crikey!” Kate paused. Oh well, if they were sharing disastrous evening stories, “Tim turned me down for sex,” countered Kate.
“Shit,” Sarah swung her legs around.
“What is wrong with us?” Kate sat down on the chair opposite, popped out two tablets and pushed them across the table.
“Bastard-magnets… apart from James,” there was a long pause.
“He wanted me to mortgage this house.” Kate concentrated on her tablets. She hated saying it out loud. She had tried not to think about it for two years, but it just wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t the crime of the century, but it had been a significant argument between them at the time.
“I know,” Sarah cringed a little. Kate looked up, surprised.
“Andy knows too, then?”
“He’s got the deeds.”
“I’ve been looking every sodding where for those,” and they both smiled, despite everything.
“I might become a lesbian. Women are so much nicer,” said Sarah, taking her tablets.
“I’m not marrying you – you’re a nightmare.”
“You’re not meant to say that.”
“Are you working today?”
“No, I’m resigning from the pub. I can’t face Melanie. She’s taken two men from me.” She noted Kate’s expression. “Okay, one drug-dealing arsehole and one very decent man.”
“Then come to Bath. I need the moral support. I might be able to get you in as an extra, but no promises.”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll get to meet Tim and, who knows, he might shag you,” Kate said.
“Then why the hell not? I’m in!”
The marquee was buzzing when they got there, despite the grey clouds overhead. Even so, the darkest things in Bath were Kate and Sarah, like little clouds of doom shuffling into the marquee. Kate wore her favourite dress, sunglasses and a smudge of lipstick. She had thought briefly about going “all out” to look fabulous, to show Tim what he was missing, but quite frankly, she couldn’t be bothered. Sarah had gone for ultra-casual in her ripped jeans and a red t-shirt, which made her look really young. Kate spotted Marcus and they headed over to him.
“He’s so very gay,” whispered Sarah as Kate dug her in the ribs.
“Good morning, darling girl, I need kisses. And remind me who we have here?” He air-kissed both of them and Sarah raised a knowing eyebrow, as if she’d seen proof enough.
“This is my friend, Sarah.”
“Delighted,” he quickly turned his attention back to Kate. “Oh dear,” he said tapping the sunglasses, “hung over, are we?”
“A tad, but I’ll survive. Have you seen Tim yet?”
“Not yet. I dare say he’ll be crawling from under some long-legged beauty he met last night.” Marcus was the only one who laughed.
Tim sat in the back of the limo and stared blankly out of the window at the slate-grey sky. It looked how he felt: lifeless and sad. He was full of regret and felt as if he’d been kicked squarely in the chest. They talk about heartache, but he hadn’t expected it to hurt physically. He had been awake most of the night, torturing himself. He had thought it had been the right thing to do, to walk away, but in the early hours of the morning he hadn’t been so sure. Plenty of relationships started with a physical encounter and grew from there. Perhaps he’d just passed up the one-and-only chance for that to happen for him and Kate.
What hurt him the most was how he must have made Kate feel – he’d spurned her, turned her down flat. Why hadn’t he just talked to her instead of walking out? Over the last few weeks, Tim had tried to show Kate the person behind the famous mask, but he had very obviously failed. It was clear how she saw him and he couldn’t blame her for that. The damage was done, and all he could do now was try not to make today too torturous for either of them.
When he entered his trailer, he saw it. A single walnut whip with a post-it note stuck on the mirror behind it, which read “Sorry X”. Tim peeled off the post-it and smiled. Me too, he thought.
Kate didn’t have too much convincing to do to get Sarah in as an extra, as she was one of the youngest there and ideal for the bar scene. Sarah was a bit put out that wardrobe made her change her clothes because hers didn’t meet the criteria for a young, affluent professional. She cottoned on quickly that if she drank her large glass of wine during the scene she would get it refilled when they had to retake. She kept giving Kate the thumbs-up, which Kate studiously ignored.
“I think she’s drunk the prop department dry,” Marcus said, under his breath.
The morning was tedious. The weather had been patchy and so had Tim’s acting; they had had to retake a number of scenes, much to Che’s annoyance. Despite digging deep he was failing to be the consummate professional he prided himself on being. The first scene after lunch was to be the bandstand scene and, as Tim and Lumina went over it Tim felt that this scene needed some subtle changes. He’d discovered a new level to Patrick, the depth of the character had grown as he’d played him. Tim caught up with Che and explained his idea for the scene change. In conclusion he stated,
“He’s not the guns-blazing kind of guy at this point. He’s nervous, gentle even. So I want to tone it down, okay?”
“I’m not sure. I want close-up face shots on this from all angles. Where’s Dennis?”
At that point, Lumina came striding over.
“No, no, no! You can’t change this scene, it’s a key scene. It says here,” she stabbed the script for effect, “he engulfs her in his arms and kisses her passionately. We have to do the kiss.” Her eyes were wide with anticipation.
“Oh, Mina, let it go! This scene needs to change. It’s not about you and me.”
“How dare you! I never thought for a moment, I’m so…” Tim waved for her to stop, but she just carried on ranting. Then Che chimed in and the volume escalated.
Marcus grabbed Kate’s arm and marched her in the direction of the noise.
“Creative differences that we need to resolve,” he muttered.
“Can’t you sort it?” asked Kate, as the voices grew louder.
“No. Come on, nearly there. It will soon be all parties and premieres.” Marcus was keen to highlight the imminent fun stuff, but all Kate could think of was having to avoid Tim at all those events. Kate braced herself as they reached the warring trio, but Tim broke away as soon as he saw her and called over his shoulder to the others.
“Che, come with me. Let me show you what I mean.” In seconds Kate was whirled around and was being guided back out of the marquee and across to the bandstand. Most of the park was cordoned off and crew were liberally scattered around. Tim’s hand was gripping her elbow and the scent of his aftershave swept over her in ripples. Neither of them spoke. There was a steely determination in Tim’s eyes and the firm grip on her arm showed he was serious. Che followed them, muttering to himself. As they reached the bandstand Tim lifted her up into his arms, their eyes briefly met, before she was deposited onto the bandstand. Tim vaulted the hedge and the low rail and spun her around to look at him. Kate smiled a shy smile.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice, because she didn’t know what else to say. Tim shook his head briefly.
“Forget it. This is about the script. The whole feeling is of Patrick controlling the situation, of him going in guns blazing and sweeping Marcie up and engulfing her in a kiss.”
“Yes,” was all Kate could think to say.
“I agree,” chimed in Che, who was now sitting on the grass.
“But he’s not like that, not now, not with Marcie. He’s unsure. He wouldn’t risk blowing his chance with her.”
“But that’s his character, that’s how he copes – he puts on a front, takes control of the situation.” Kate could feel herself getting defensive. She was drawn into the debate now.
“It’s worked in the other scenes,” said Che. Tim raked his hands through his dark hair.
“I know it’s your film, Che, and it’s your character, Kate, but I’ve played him, I know him too and I think on this occasion you’re both wrong,”
“Okay, how so?” said Kate.
“He’s stripped bare…”
“No, that was an apartment scene weeks ago,” joked Kate, but Tim wasn’t laughing.
“The real Patrick is getting exposed, it’s difficult for him, but that’s the only way he’s going to connect with Marcie, the only way he stands a chance of convincing her that he’s the right man for her.”
“But Patrick wouldn’t do that,” called Che from the grass, making them both turn to look at him.
“He would because…” Tim exhaled deeply. “This is getting us nowhere.” Exasperation made him fidget about the bandstand, turning in circles. “Let me show you.”
“Nice try, but once it’s filmed, it’s all done and you win, so no.” Kate glared at him.
“No, not film it with Lumina. I mean let me show you, here. Both of you. Kate, you be Marcie. She only says two lines and you know the script, right?” Kate nodded. “I’ll be Patrick.”
“So, how does that solve it?” asked Kate.
“Try to be Marcie, and see if it feels right or wrong when Patrick approaches her how I want to play it. After everything that’s happened between them, would Marcie fall for this Patrick? That’s all I’m asking. If you hate it, we stick with the original. Deal?” he smiled for the first time and simultaneously Kate’s stomach flipped.
“Okay, deal,” said Kate and they shook on it. Che nodded his agreement and lay back on the grass to watch.
Tim explained where he was going to walk in from, where he was going to stand, just like Che did before a scene.
“Ready? Action,” he said, taking a deep breath and Kate saw a change in Tim, in how he held himself, how the character of Patrick appeared before her eyes. Concentrate, she thought. She had to remember her two lines in the right places; this acting lark was terrifying, even without the cameras.
“Hi, Marcie.” Patrick stepped forward on the bandstand.
“Hi,” said Kate feeling that was 50 percent of her job done.
“I need to talk to you and I need you to listen.” He said it calmly, but with warmth. That wasn’t how Kate had written it – it was meant to be commanding and fast-paced and exciting, so that Marcie didn’t stand a chance, so that she was caught up in the emotion. She had to hear him out now, they’d made a deal. Kate nodded on cue and Patrick smiled at her, but oh, that smile, his head was tilted down, he was looking at her through his eyelashes, and it was a lopsided smile, no beaming teeth. This was honest and vulnerable and she was mesmerised.
“Ah, Marcie,” he sighed heavily, still standing gazing at her from the other side of the bandstand,” his words thoughtful and slow, “the time we’ve spent together recently, it’s like a dial has been turned and now everything is in sharp focus. I see life distinctly differently from before. I see what matters.” He paused and took a step closer. “I see you.” That smile again, his eyes locked on hers as he lifted his head and Kate felt her own chin lift involuntarily, too.
He slowly started to move towards her. “Marcie, we could both walk away now and settle for an ordinary life with the next person that comes along or we could grab this chance at something extraordinary.” He was close now, his eyes fixed to hers, looking into her soul. His breathing was faster, but his words were smooth and gentle as he slowly lifted his hand to glide his index finger under her chin as he uttered the last line, “I’m not going to wait for the next one to come along when I’ve already found the only one I could ever need.” He breathed against her lips,” and paused, “and that’s you, Marcie. You’re the one.” Every one of Kate’s nerve endings was on fire. “The question is, am I the one for you?” And with that, he leaned in and kissed her, the side of his index finger lifting her face to his. She was lost in the kiss, his mouth controlling hers. Kate couldn’t feel her legs and prayed her knees would hold up. Very slowly he ended the kiss and she opened her eyes. He was so close to her she was sure their hearts were beating the same fast rhythm. He looked anxious, as if he was waiting for something.
“Your line,” he said bluntly. Kate look momentarily puzzled.
“Oh, uh, sorry… Yes, Patrick, you are,” Kate fumbled.
“Then they kiss again and just hold each other, rather than the swinging-around thing. What do you think?” said Tim, turning to their audience of one.
“I like it,” said Che, “Kate, what do you think?” Kate was only just registering that Tim was back, not Patrick, and was struggling with the question. Her brain had been hotwired and someone else was in control. As there was no response from Kate, Tim continued. “What did you feel? Is Marcie more likely to say yes to this Patrick or the one that barrels in, machine guns the words at her, engulfs her in a kiss and swings her around?”
“No contest, you’re right. Warm and anxious Patrick wins the lady every time.”
“Really?” he was pleased. “Great. You can tell Mina. She’s still pissed at me.”
“Wimp,” she called after Tim as he leapt off the bandstand and jogged back to the marquee as the victor. Che got up and followed Tim.
Kate was alone in the bandstand, going over what had happened. She found herself lost in that kiss again and those words. Oddly they were her words. She’d meant them to be brash and controlling, not gentle and so very sexy. And that kiss. Tim had kissed her. No, Patrick had kissed Marcie. Was that kiss all acting?
Chapter 29
Kate gave Sarah a big shove and she finally snorted into life.
“This is our stop, come on,” she said, trying to nudge Sarah out of her seat. Sarah picked up her bag and tried to stand up. “Quicker than that, I don’t want to end up in Wolverhampton!”
“Keep your wig on,” Sarah said as she stumbled off the train. “What’s the plan?”
“Pub for your pay, your hou
se to collect post, pick up Amy, back to mine to eat and sober up.”
“Great plan. Shall I just wait in the car?”
“No, come on.” Kate linked arms with Sarah and bustled her off to the car park.
Sarah drank all the warm bottled water Kate had in her car and tried to stay awake and not vomit. Kate parked outside Sarah’s house and they walked, or in Sarah’s case, swayed, down to the pub.
“Oh, shit.” Sarah spun around to walk in the opposite direction as she saw Melanie come out of the pub.
“You can handle her.” Kate spun Sarah back around.
“Hey, this isn’t Strictly, you know,” said Sarah, trying to stop the spinning.
“Hiya!” called Melanie, as she quickened her pace towards them.
“Great, a gloating Melanie. Just what I need.” Sarah rubbed her eyes in an attempt to sharpen her senses. “Melanie, how lovely to see you. Are you off to Kleptomaniacs Anonymous?”
“Er, sorry?” said Melanie smiling, although she didn’t know why.
“You keep stealing my men.”
“I’ve said sorry,” said Melanie, a little annoyed.
“Have you? I must have missed it. Did you whisper it through the letter box or write me an invisible letter?” snapped Sarah, which made her head hurt. Melanie looked at Kate for some help, but Kate was keeping out of it.
“Look, I’m sorry about Shaun and everything,” said Melanie.
“Shaun?” Sarah was nearly shouting.
“Ooh, did you know he was back, by the way?” Melanie was wide-eyed.
“Yes, I did, thanks. He rearranged my house for me.”
“Have you had a bump on the head?” Melanie tilted her chin and studied Sarah more closely.
“No, but I should give you a bump on the head for stealing Andy!”
It Started at Sunset Cottage Page 34
