Happy Endings

by Jon Rance

  ‘I love you too,’ she said and before I knew it, my writing was all but forgotten as we stumbled, kissing and pulling each other’s clothes off, towards the bedroom.

  ‘So that’s what it’s like to shag a film star?’ I said as we lay in bed afterwards.

  ‘Oh, stop it.’

  The sex had been incredible because when we finally orgasmed together, it wasn’t just a regular orgasm, but one filled with relief and awash with love. There had been moments, albeit fleeting, but moments nonetheless when I thought we might never have sex like that again. However, lying there wrapped up together under the duvet, our naked bodies curled around each other, I felt nothing but calmness. Her head was on my chest, bobbing up and down slowly to my breathing, her body fitting perfectly against mine, and everything felt right again.

  Our cocoon of happiness didn’t last quite as long as I’d hoped though as my phone suddenly stirred into life. I reached across to the nightstand and had a look at the caller. It was Ed.

  ‘You’d better get it,’ said Emma. ‘I’ll jump in the shower.’

  I watched as Emma hopped out of bed and walked off towards the shower; her perfect little bum wiggling away brought a smile to my face. I was a lucky man.

  ‘Ed, mate, how are you?’

  ‘Good thanks, you?’

  ‘No complaints. How’s life without the missus?’

  There was a brief pause and even on the phone I could sense a tension in his voice.

  ‘Oh, you know, dull. I was calling to see if you wanted to get a drink.’

  ‘Yes, of course, when and where and I’ll be there with bells on?’

  ‘Tomorrow night?’

  ‘Sounds perfect, mate,’ I said. ‘About seven-thirty?’

  Ed and I agreed to meet at a pub on the Southbank and go from there. I was looking forward to it and maybe a night out with Ed was just what I needed.

  I liked and admired Ed so much because in many ways he was my mirror opposite. At twenty-nine, I was still chasing a dream and working in a crap service job while I waited for my big break, whereas he was doggedly settled into a life of hard work – not necessarily doing a job he loved, but one he knew would pay the bills. He definitely wasn’t a dreamer, but a realist who didn’t want to rock the boat and make any mistakes. That’s why I wasn’t surprised he didn’t go with Kate. I would have been more surprised if he had. I used to think he was a bit boring, but now I saw that above everything else, he was just afraid of failure. Afraid that with one wrong move the whole bloody house of cards would come falling down.

  Emma

  There was something I didn’t want to tell Jack. It was nothing really, just a silly misunderstanding. It was one of those things that happened with people like Rhys. I’d had enough experience with other actors to know what it’s like and Rhys apologised profusely and promised it wouldn’t ever happen again. We even laughed about it afterwards because it was so ridiculous. I felt awful though because I shouldn’t have let it happen at all and now I was keeping it from Jack.

  After we left the café in Swiss Cottage and headed to Soho, I was so excited and wrapped up in a glow of exhilaration. Having my photo taken with Rhys and then being whisked away in a cab to an exclusive club, I felt like a proper celebrity. I know it’s all a bit superficial and silly, but as the flashes of the cameras were on me, blinding me with their hunt for a story, I felt like the little girl who had put on a play for her mummy.

  Once at the club, I soon realised it wasn’t like anywhere I’d been before. For a start, it was impossible to get in unless you came on the arm of Rhys Connelly and inside it was wall to wall celebrities, and I was one of them; part of the inner circle.

  After we were settled in and got drinks, Rhys introduced his friends. There was Paul, an old friend from Wales, who lived with him to help ‘keep his feet on the ground’ and there was Eloise, Rhys’s fabulous agent. I asked her where she was from and she just smiled and said, ‘Everywhere, Emma, and nowhere.’ It was probably why she seemed to have an accent that sounded like South African crossed with French, topped with a dollop of American and finished off with shavings of high-society English. She was lovely though and kept telling me how beautiful I was.

  The night changed at just gone ten. Paul and Eloise had to leave. Paul was heading back to Wales early in the morning and Eloise had to catch a flight to LA. Eloise gave me a long hug goodbye, followed by a kiss on the lips and told me to stay in touch. They both disappeared, leaving Rhys and me alone. By that point we’d both had quite a few. I was still on cloud nine and alcohol was running through my body like liquid excitement and so when Rhys asked me to dance, I didn’t think anything of it.

  I’m sure in most clubs the sight of Rhys dancing would have drawn looks and hushed comments, but in there, in a room packed with celebrities, he was just another body and I was just another body dancing closely next to him. We danced for what felt like an hour, but was probably more like fifteen minutes, gradually getting closer, moving together, until suddenly we kissed.

  Maybe it was the alcohol, the adrenalin, or that it was Rhys Connelly, I don’t know, but when he leaned in and kissed me, I didn’t stop him. Not right away. It didn’t last longer than a few seconds and then he pulled away once he realised I wasn’t really kissing him back.

  ‘Shit, sorry,’ he said. ‘Got a bit carried away.’

  ‘It’s fine.’ I smiled. ‘I understand. You’re Rhys Connelly, big movie star. You’re probably used to getting whatever girls you want.’

  ‘But not you, eh.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said and we carried on dancing.

  Rhys apologised again at the end of the night as he put me in a cab and paid the driver. I said it was fine because it was. It was nothing. Just a silly, drunken kiss.

  I felt awful when Jack was apologising to me, but I couldn’t tell him and, honestly, it was never going to happen again, so what was the point? It meant nothing.

  ‘Sure you don’t mind?’ said Jack, standing in the doorway, looking gorgeous in his going-out clothes. He had on a pair of faded blue jeans, a pale green gingham shirt and he smelt wonderful.

  ‘It’s fine, you have fun with Ed.’

  ‘But what about the wedding stuff?’

  ‘Right, the wedding stuff, and you’re going to do what exactly? The flower arrangements? The invitations?’

  Jack looked at me with those gorgeous eyes of his and then smiled. The wedding was six months away and so far we hadn’t done anything except save the date and book the church. We still had everything else to do and on top of the film, it was starting to feel like it would never get done. So, in our hour of need, and desperate, I had called my mother.

  ‘I really am sorry about being such an idiot about the film,’ he said, sitting down on the bed next to me, grabbing my heart and yanking it around the room. I kept thinking about the kiss and whether I should tell him. It didn’t mean anything and it wasn’t going to happen again, but I hated lying to him.

  ‘It’s all right, honestly.’

  ‘No, no it’s not. I was stupid and your basic twat of a bloke. I want us to be happy, honest and proud of each other regardless of what we’re doing. I want us to tell each other everything, the good, the bad and the ugly. I want to be the one to support you and help you and the fact I wasn’t makes me feel like an idiot. I love you and I’m so proud of you . . .’

  ‘Rhys kissed me,’ I said suddenly. Jack let go of my hand and stood up. ‘He kissed me at the club and it didn’t mean anything. It was a silly, stupid kiss, we were drunk and . . .’

  ‘Did you kiss him back?’

  ‘For a second, maybe, but then I stopped it and I’m so sorry, Jack. I wanted to tell you right away, I did, but . . .’

  ‘But you didn’t, did you?’

  He was looking at me, his face bristling with contempt and anger. It was a face I’d never seen before and it scared me. I’d betrayed him, betrayed us. I was terrified I was going to lose him over nothing. I sudd
enly wished I hadn’t told him because then he wouldn’t have that face. That look of hatred.

  ‘Because it meant nothing. Was nothing. Just a stupid mistake that won’t ever happen again. I love you, Jack, and no one else. I just want to be with you.’

  ‘Then don’t do the film.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If you love me so much, don’t do the film with him.’

  ‘But it’s my dream, Jack. The moment I’ve been waiting for my whole life.’

  ‘And if you love me, you won’t do it,’ he said again, grabbing his coat and heading towards the door. ‘I’d do anything for you, Em, anything.’

  And then he was gone.

  As soon as the front door closed, I burst into tears. I had been such a fool. Why did I have to tell him? The answer was simple: because I loved him and not telling him would have eaten away at me until eventually I would have broken down and told him anyway. It was better done now than in two months or, worse, after the wedding. It hurt though. How could he ask me to give up the film? He knew what it meant to me and how hard I had worked to get it. He was probably just overreacting. He didn’t mean it.

  I got up, dried my eyes, splashed some water over my face and walked into the kitchen. I sat down with a glass of wine and waited for Mum to show up.

  ‘Why isn’t Jack here?’ said Mum. ‘He should be here. He is the groom, after all.’

  ‘He had to go and meet Ed.’

  ‘Now, there’s a funny business. What sort of man lets his girlfriend waltz off across the globe by herself? Still, Jack should be here, darling.’

  I loved Mum dearly, but she could be shallow, petty and more judgemental than anyone I knew. She’d never really warmed to Jack. I think because he worked in a coffee shop instead of doing something proper, she thought him a failure. I think she only let me pursue my acting dream because she’d hoped I would meet a tall, dark and very rich man who’d take care of me. She wanted Mr Darcy and instead she got Jack and he wasn’t good enough for her little girl.

  ‘Well he isn’t. Shall we get on?’

  ‘I suppose,’ said Mum and she started going on about the reception and a friend of hers with a huge mansion in Oxfordshire, but all I was thinking about was Jack.

  From the moment I met Jack, I had no doubt he was my soulmate, my one true love. I don’t think I even believed in soulmates before him, but as soon as we met that was it – the search was over. We never just dated; it was always so much more than that. We were always so sure about each other, so intent nothing would ever come between us. Now that it had, I didn’t know what to do. I was lost.

  ‘What do you think, darling?’ said Mum suddenly.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘You weren’t even listening were you? About the Oxford house for the reception and Uncle Peter’s Rolls for the car.’

  ‘Yeah, sounds fantastic,’ I said, but my head or heart wasn’t really in it.

  ‘Don’t say yeah, darling, say yes. It sounds so common and your father and I raised you better than that,’ said Mum, her usual snobbish self, but I didn’t have the heart or the patience for a fight.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said and we moved swiftly on to the flowers.

  To: Kate Jones

  From: Emma Fogle

  Subject: Re: I made it!

  K,

  Oh my God! Rhys Connelly kissed me!

  Let me start at the beginning. We met up at a café to go over our lines. This in itself was crazy enough. I was sitting with Rhys Connelly having lunch for Christ’s sake! He’s actually a really sweet and funny man. Yes he’s gorgeous and sexy, but after a while I almost forgot who he was and we were just having a good time. I was actually more excited about going over the script together. I felt like a proper actress. It felt so good, Kate.

  Anyway, after we finished, he invited me out for drinks in Soho with some friends of his. I felt bad for Jack, stuck at home waiting for me, but this was the chance of a lifetime. The club was A-mazing. Seriously. You’d have loved it. I wish you could have been there too. I met his friends but they had to leave early and so it was just me and Rhys. We were dancing when he just leaned in and kissed me. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, since I started dating Jack, no one else had tried to kiss me. Especially not an A-list movie star! This was probably why I didn’t stop him right away. I was in shock. It didn’t last long and we had a giggle about it afterwards. He even apologised and I could see he felt bad. I did feel guilty about it, of course, but it was nothing. We’d had a few drinks and it lasted seconds.

  But then I told Ed and he flipped out. I suppose because in my head it really was just a bit silly, I thought he would see it in the same way. He didn’t. He went ballistic and told me not to do the film! What am I going to do, Kate? I love Jack so much, but this is the role I’ve been waiting for my whole life. I wish you were here. I know that’s supposed to be the other way around, you’re supposed to be the one saying, I wish you were here, but I need you.

  I’ve also been trying to organise the wedding with Mother, which is, as you can imagine, a total nightmare. She’s taking over and trying to do everything her way. The trouble is I have so little energy and fight that she’s probably going to get her way and we’ll end up having the wedding of her dreams!

  I hope all is well in paradise! I can’t wait to hear from you again soon. Don’t forget the photos! I want to see what Jez looks like and how tanned you are!

  Love Em X

  Kate

  ‘Ready?’ said Jez with a huge smile on his face.

  We were heading off to the full moon party. We’d been drinking steadily all evening and were both a bit tipsy. It was only nine o’clock and I couldn’t imagine staying up all night but I was going to try.

  ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

  We arrived at a huge party, dance music blaring out from all corners, drowning us in its earth-rumbling bass.

  ‘This is mental!’ I shouted. We were surrounded by tens of thousands of other revellers, all here looking for that elusive traveller experience. We’d done the full moon party. It would be something to look back on. Something to tell the grandkids when they were convinced we didn’t understand them. A proper backpacker experience that for some reason made me think back to the day I almost died.

  I was fifteen and it was typical teenage folly. I was loitering around after school with a couple of friends, delaying going home where I’d be forced to do my homework before dinner. We’d recently discovered the joys of smoking, although it wasn’t really that joyous, just three girls coughing and spluttering and trying to look cool behind the Co-op. I was about to leave and head off home. I said goodbye to my friends and then stepped out into the road without looking and was hit by a car. Luckily the car wasn’t going very fast, but I still ended up in hospital, surrounded by my family with doctors telling them I was a very lucky girl indeed. I had broken ribs, a broken arm, a whole smorgasbord of brown and sickly looking bruises and internal bleeding. It could, they stressed so many times before I eventually left, have been much worse.

  After my near-death experience, Mum fussed over me so much. She seemed terrified I was going to drop down dead at any moment, which obviously caused me a great deal of annoyance, being a teenager in the throes of puberty. Maybe I didn’t fully realise it then, but I changed after my brush with death. I started making plans and thinking about my future. I stopped messing around at school and I knuckled down, because I realised life was short and I wanted to do so much.

  I can still remember the exact moment the car hit me with incredible clarity. And the shock of suddenly finding myself on the ground, trapped under a car, while panic surrounded me. I wasn’t that conscious because I’d hit my head on the ground, but there was a split second when I was totally lucid and in that moment, the life I wanted to have seemed to flash through my mind.

  Since then I’d always been on the run. Running from one thing to another, terrified that if I stopped, my near-death experience would have been for nothin
g. I guess in some ways Ed and I were both running, but his version of running meant staying still, not changing, out of fear of the unknown, while my version meant running off around the world, chasing a dream I’d had since I was fifteen.

  By two in the morning Jez and I were both far too tired to keep going. We’d stopped drinking already and the prospect of staying up for another four or five hours seemed beyond us.

  ‘Flagging?’ said Jez.

  ‘Just a bit. Shall we make a move?’

  Make a move? I sounded like my mother.

  ‘I’m never going to last until sunrise and we have a travel day tomorrow.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said and offered him my hand, which he took, and we headed off along the beach. ‘I can’t believe this is it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This. Us. Our last night here and then we go our separate ways.’

  ‘We don’t have to,’ said Jez, looking across at me.

  ‘What do you mean? You have to leave Thailand and I’m heading up to Chiang Mai.’

  ‘I could cross the border and come back for another thirty days . . .’

  ‘And why would you want to do that?’ I said with a naïve little giggle, stopping and turning to look at Jez. I felt fifteen again.

  ‘Because I like you, Kate.’

  ‘I like you too.’

  ‘No, I like you,’ he said before he left a pause and then said it again. ‘Like you.’

  ‘Oh.’ That was the last thing either of us said.

  Thousands of miles from home, under the moonlight, Jez and I kissed passionately for what seemed like forever. It had been so long since I’d kissed anyone except Ed, and it felt strange at first, but then suddenly it didn’t. Suddenly it felt like the most natural thing in the world. We stumbled back to our bungalow and to the bed that had seemed like a bad idea at the time.

  We lay there and it seemed only a matter of time before our kissing led to something else, but I didn’t know if I could. A part of me wanted to. I sort of ached for it and I knew with Jez it wouldn’t be awkward or strange and it would mean something. But I couldn’t do it. I’d hurt Ed enough already just leaving. I couldn’t do this to him as well. I liked Jez a lot. More than a lot, actually, but whether I had sex with him or not wasn’t going to change that. I was afraid, though, that it might change things with Ed forever and I wasn’t ready to do that. I wasn’t ready to just give up because I was so far from home. ‘I’m sorry, Jez, but could we just cuddle?’ I said.