To the Moon and Back

by Jill Mansell

  Zack raised his hands in surrender. ‘OK, OK. You’ve made your point. You really want to shame me into reading this script?’

  ‘Yes, I really do.’

  ‘Fine then, you win. I’ll read it.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Promise.’ His phone burst into life and Zack answered it. ‘Robert, thanks for getting back to me, do you have time to run through these figures now? Great, hang on, my notes are upstairs…’ Backing out of the office, Zack pointed to the folder on the desk then pressed his hand to his chest and silently mouthed, ‘I promise.’

  When he’d gone, Ellie opened the folder and detached the film script from the rest of the paperwork. There were just over a hundred loose A4 pages. Crossing the office, she fitted them into the photocopier and pressed PRINT. She might not be a multimillionaire entrepreneur, but Kaye and Joe Kerrigan’s enthusiasm had sparked her curiosity.

  She was going to read the script, even if Zack wasn’t.

  ***

  ‘Well?’ Ellie demanded the next morning.

  ‘Well what?’ Zack was throwing Elmo’s rubber ball around the kitchen, bouncing it off the units so that Elmo skittered and slid across the cream marble-tiled floor like something out of a cartoon.

  ‘Did you read it?’

  ‘Read what?’

  ‘The film script.’

  ‘Oh, that. Yes I did.’

  ‘Woof.’ Elmo barked impatiently, ready for Zack to throw the ball again.

  ‘What was it like?’

  ‘Actually, it was pretty good.’ Throw.

  Ellie filled the kettle at the sink, skipping out of the way as Elmo barreled past in ecstatic pursuit of the ball.

  ‘And?’

  ‘Still not doing it.’

  ‘Woof woof woof.’ Elmo’s tail wagged furiously as Zack dodged behind the table and grabbed the ball a split second before he could reach it.

  ‘Who was the priest?’ said Ellie.

  ‘What priest?’

  Ha! ‘The one in the film script who turned up at the end.’

  Zack straightened up; his red polo shirt had come untucked and there was a new rip in the knee of his Levi’s. ‘Oh, that priest.’ He narrowed his eyes in concentration then said innocently, ‘Sorry.I don’t think I can remember.’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘You promised.’ The one thing she’d thought about Zack was that he was honest. If he said he’d do something, he should do it.

  ‘I was really busy last night.’ He was watching her reaction. ‘Anyway, how do you know there’s a priest in it?’

  ‘I made a copy, took it home last night, and read it.’ Meaningfully, she added, ‘Unlike some people.’

  ‘Have I disappointed you?’ Zack lobbed the ball towards her, over Elmo’s head. ‘Here, catch.’

  Ellie caught it in her left hand as Elmo leapt into the air. ‘Yes, you have.’

  ‘Neat catch.’ He signaled his approval. ‘So what did you make of the script then?’

  She threw the ball back to him, sending Elmo into a frenzy of excitement. ‘I thought it was brilliant. It is brilliant. It’s funny, it’s moving, and it’s original. If it was made into a film, I’d go and see it.’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Zack teased Elmo by waving the ball just out of reach. ‘And would you cry at the sad bits?’

  ‘Maybe. OK,’ Ellie conceded, ‘probably.’

  ‘Like when Mary finally meets the son she put up for adoption and discovers it’s Father Dermot?’

  ‘Oh God, yes!’ Belatedly she stopped dead in her tracks. Zack lobbed the ball into the air and she stood there, not even attempting to catch it. One of the stools clattered as Elmo almost brained himself, diving on the ball and triumphantly regaining possession at last.

  Zack half-smiled and said, ‘It just came back to me in a flash.’

  ‘So you did read the whole thing?’

  ‘I wasn’t going to. You shamed me into it.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Ellie felt herself flush with pleasure. ‘And will you back them?’

  ‘I still can’t do that.’ He looked regretful. ‘It’s not my field, the risks are astronomical, I don’t have any contacts who’d be prepared to invest in that kind of venture. But I did like the script,’ he went on. ‘A lot. When they get here, I’ll let them down lightly.’

  ‘Right.’ Oh well, at least she’d tried.

  ‘And if their film ever does get made,’ said Zack, ‘we’ll go along to the cinema and watch it together. My treat.’

  Elmo dropped the ball at his feet, desperate to get the game up and running again.

  Ellie said, ‘And will I get to say I told you so?’

  Zack said good-naturedly, ‘Deal.’

  ***

  The doorbell went at two minutes to eleven. Ellie opened the door to the Kerrigans and saw the naked hope in their eyes.

  As she showed them into the hall, Kaye whispered excitedly, ‘Has he read the script?’

  ‘He has.’

  ‘We didn’t sleep a wink last night! And on our way over here this morning we saw two magpies. Two for joy!’

  Oh dear. And now Zack was about to dash their dreams. Ellie led them up the staircase and knocked on the living-room door.

  ‘It’s finally happening. This could be it.’ Joe Kerrigan, taking deep breaths, briefly touched Ellie’s arm as they waited for Zack to appear. ‘Wish us luck.’

  They were in with him for almost thirty minutes. Ellie, typing away with her ears on elastic, finally heard the door open upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps on the staircase. If the meeting had lasted half an hour, could that mean Zack had changed his mind?

  Then she heard Joe say, ‘Well, thanks anyway,’ and knew he hadn’t.

  Zack put his head round the office door. ‘I have calls to make, but Joe and Kaye would like a quick word before they go, so I’ll leave you to show them out.’

  ‘He can’t help us,’ Joe explained when Zack had disappeared back upstairs. ‘But we just wanted to say thanks for fighting our corner.’

  ‘He told us about you nagging him to read the manuscript.’ Kaye was being heartbreakingly brave. ‘And he said you read it too.’

  ‘I thought it was brilliant.’ They were such a lovely couple.

  ‘That means so much.’ Kaye smiled at her.

  ‘You mustn’t give up.’

  ‘We won’t. We can’t,’ said Joe. ‘We think it’s brilliant too.’

  ‘Plus he’s modest.’ Kaye gave him a nudge.

  ‘I can’t help how I feel. This is our dream. It’s been our dream for so long.’

  ‘It’s just that we’re starting to run out of options.’

  Joe shook his head. ‘We have to keep going.’

  Ellie said, ‘Look, I don’t know anything about getting films made, but do you have to do all this yourself? How about sending the script out to all the big film companies? Maybe one of them will snap it up!’

  ‘We’ve already tried that. Every company, every last screen agent. They all turned us down.’

  ‘Oh.’ OK, now she felt stupid.

  ‘We have enough rejection letters to paper our whole house. It’s just so frustrating.’ Kaye sounded intensely frustrated. ‘Most of them don’t even bother to look at the script. I started putting hairs between the pages so you could see if they’d been opened. And they hadn’t!’

  Nice. Ellie wondered how charmed any potential producer would be by the sight of a script full of hair.

  ‘Not a whole head’s worth.’ Joe grinned. ‘Just one hair per script.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ He had an open, friendly face and an easy manner. Together he and Kaye made a good couple.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Kaye, ‘you need to be getting back to work. But we just wanted to say thank you for being so enthusiastic and for doing your best with Zack.’

  ‘Don’t give up,’ Ellie said as she showed them out.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Joe paused on the doorste
p, then raised a hand in salute. ‘We won’t.’

  Chapter 23

  Tony, back from three days in Wales, was watching Deal Or No Deal when Ellie arrived home from work.

  ‘I’ve ordered Indian.’ He waved to her from the sofa. ‘It’ll be here in twenty minutes. How was your weekend, darling?’

  Ellie waited until the food had been delivered before telling him what she knew she had to tell him. Tony was flying back to LA tomorrow morning and he deserved to know the truth.

  That was, if they didn’t burst from overeating before she could get the words out.

  ‘Did I order too much?’

  ‘Maybe a bit.’ Faced with a takeaway menu, Tony was famous for his inability to whittle things down. Practically every surface in the kitchen bristled with foil containers and discarded lids.

  ‘I can’t help it, I just hate the thought of missing out.’ He was helping himself to lamb jalfrezi, peshwari naan, saag aloo, bindi bhaji, and mushroom rice. ‘Remember the time I ordered the tandoori chicken and they thought I’d said three?’ Chuckling at the memory, Tony said, ‘Jamie never could resist a challenge, could he? Ended up eating every last one of them.’

  Oh no, and now he’d brought Jamie into the conversation. Her heart sinking, Ellie put down the carton of prawn bhuna. How to say it? She took a deep breath. ‘Tony, do you think Jamie would be OK about it if I started… um, maybe seeing someone else?’

  He stopped spooning mango chutney onto his lamb. There was the tiniest of pauses while he gathered himself.

  ‘Oh, my darling, of course he’d be OK. It’s been a year and a half. Haven’t I said this before? You should be getting out there again. Jamie would be happy for you, I know he would. And I’m happy for you too. So long as it’s someone nice, someone who deserves you.’ He looked at her sideways. ‘Is it someone nice?’

  ‘Yes.’ Tell him, tell him…

  ‘I think I know.’ Tony’s smile was compassionate. ‘Are we talking about Mr McLaren?’

  What? God, what a thing to say. ‘Zack? No, it’s not Zack!’

  ‘Oh, sorry, my mistake. Go on then, who’s the lucky man?’

  Ellie braced herself. Just tell him.

  ‘Unless it’s a woman,’ Tony said hastily. ‘That’s fine too. It doesn’t have to be a man.’

  Ellie snorted with laughter and the tension was broken. ‘The look on your face!’

  ‘I know. Sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s all this bloody political correctness. Of course I’d rather it was a man.’

  ‘Well, that’s good, because it is a man.’ For crying out loud, just spit it out… ‘It’s Todd.’

  Another pause. Then Tony broke into a broad smile and said, ‘Really? Even better! Sweetheart, that’s great news. I had no idea.’ He seemed genuinely pleased.

  ‘Me neither. I thought we were just friends. And now it seems as if it might be… you know, turning into something else.’ Hurrying to reassure him, Ellie said, ‘It’s very early days, though. He only told me on Saturday. Nothing’s happened yet.’ Way too much information probably, but she needed Tony to know she hadn’t been cavorting here in the flat behind his back.

  ‘Trust me, Jamie would want you to live your life.’

  Hopefully he was right. ‘I’m doing my best.’

  ‘And no need to feel guilty either.’ Tony was perspicacious. ‘You’re not being unfaithful.’

  ‘I know.’ She dolloped a spoonful of rice on to her plate. ‘But it still feels funny.’

  ‘Bound to.’

  Now that she’d started, Ellie discovered she couldn’t stop. ‘It kind of feels like an arranged marriage.’

  ‘Oh, sweetheart, it’s just a question of getting used to the idea. So long as the basic attraction’s there, you’ll be fine.’

  Hmm, that was the other thing she wasn’t so sure of. Was there a basic attraction? How could she even tell when she was this much out of practice? Since Saturday evening she had given it a lot of thought. Like the kiss itself, the prospect of becoming emotionally involved with Todd didn’t fill her with abject horror. Whereas if she turned him down, his feelings would be hurt. Consequently she had decided to go along with the idea for the time being. If nothing else, it would be nice to be part of a couple, to just feel normal again.

  Well, relatively normal.

  Anyway, take things slowly, see how they go. And at least she’d told Jamie’s dad now. That was one hurdle out of the way.

  Their plates were both full. No longer even hungry, Ellie picked hers up and said, ‘Shall we go through?’

  In the living room, keen to change the subject, she launched into the story of Kaye and Joe Kerrigan’s unsuccessful meeting with Zack.

  ‘It’s tough.’ Tony nodded in agreement. ‘You’ve got more chance of being struck by lightning than you have of getting a film made. In LA,’ he went on drily, ‘you’ve got more chance of being struck by lightning than you have of finding someone who hasn’t written a film script.’

  ‘This one’s really good, though.’

  ‘Thousands of scripts are really good. Tens of thousands.’

  ‘But they tried sending it to agents and film companies and they didn’t even bother to read the thing!’

  ‘That’s because they get sent thousands of unsolicited scripts. Literally. If they sat down and read them all, they’d never get anything else done. Sometimes they’ll look at the first page.’ He said this as if that made it better.

  Ellie said frustratedly, ‘That’s so unfair, though.’

  ‘Like I said, it’s a tough business.’

  She swallowed a mouthful of bhaji. ‘I know. It’s ironic, though, isn’t it, that so many films do get made and turn out to be crap.’

  ***

  The next morning Tony was up early, packed and waiting for his car to arrive and deliver him to Heathrow. Carrying his cup of coffee through to the living room, he flicked through the jumble of newspapers and copies of heat in the magazine rack in search of something to take with him to read on the plane. TV Guide, nope. Cosmopolitan, not likely. Cheap-and-cheerful holiday brochures, no thanks. Argos catalogue, just kill me now. Then he came to the screenplay Ellie had been banging on about last night. At one stage she’d even pulled it out of the rack and tried to persuade him to read it himself. What she lacked in slick salesmanship she more than made up for with enthusiasm, but he’d retaliated by arguing, ‘Is there a part for me in this nonexistent movie?’ And when her face had fallen and she’d said, ‘Well, not really,’ he had replied, ‘So that would be like asking an alligator to be interested in a dandelion sandwich.’

  Ellie had abandoned her campaign after that. Instead, they had watched The Apprentice on TV, made fun of the contestants, and chatted about his weekend in Wales with the cast of the upcoming Gavin, Stacey, and Two Smoking Barrels film.

  Now Tony straightened and glanced out of the window. His car had pulled up outside. Fine, he’d pick up a few magazines when he reached Departures, but he could still do with something to pass the time on the way to the airport. A closer look out of the window confirmed that he’d yet again drawn the short straw on the driver front; Malcolm was a good soul, but his never-ending cheerfulness, garrulousness, and terrible impressions of celebrities were a bit too much to bear at this hour of the morning.

  Tony drained his coffee cup, picked the screenplay out of the rack, and surveyed the title page: My Long-Lost Irish Daddy by Kaye and Joe Kerrigan. With a God-awful title like that, was it any wonder it hadn’t been taken seriously by the professionals?

  Right, he’d take the thing with him and read through it on the way to Heathrow; that way maybe noisy Malcolm would lay off the Tom Jones impersonations and leave him in peace. He zipped it into his hand luggage and paused in the hallway, wondering whether to knock on Ellie’s door. Should he wake her up to say goodbye?

  Sanity prevailed. It was six o’clock. In the months following Jamie’s death, Ellie had suffered terribly from insomnia, not to mention the dread
ed waking up at four in the morning and not being able to get back to sleep again. Her sleeping routine was only now returning to normal.

  To disturb her would be an act of cruelty.

  He’d just go.

  ***

  Another weekend, another Saturday out with Todd, another awkward moment at the end of it.

  And three—three!—kisses this time; one when he’d arrived at the flat, another while they’d been walking through Regent’s Park, and now this, the goodbye one on her doorstep at the end of the evening.

  Ellie did her best to make her muscles go loose. She’d been trying to just let herself relax into it, but it still felt weird. Her whole body was uncomfortable. Worst of all, she was now unable to banish from her mind the idea that Jamie was up there somewhere, looking down at them, watching her, and finding her ineptness and lack of engagement hilarious.

  It was all so off-putting. No wonder she couldn’t concentrate.

  ‘I’ve had a really good time.’ Todd stroked the side of her face, smoothing back a stray strand of hair.

  ‘Mm, me too.’

  ‘Sure?’ Jamie’s voice was in her head, as clear as anything. ‘Because you never used to kiss me like that.’

  Shut up, shut up, shut up.

  ‘If you’ve forgotten how to do it,’ Jamie added helpfully, ‘maybe you should sign up for evening classes.’

  For crying out loud, was it any wonder she couldn’t relax?

  Todd was still doing the smoothing thing with her hair. ‘Are you OK?’

  Could he stop doing it now? ‘Yes, fine. Just a bit tired, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear.’ Jamie tutted with amusement. ‘Now that’s definitely not true.’

  Bugger off, will you?

  ‘Tired,’ echoed Todd, clearly equally unconvinced.

  ‘Sorry.’ She could tell from his expression that he knew what she was saying. Basically, if he’d been entertaining hopes of staying over, it wasn’t going to happen. Again.

  ‘No problem.’ As before, Todd hid his disappointment well. ‘You have a good night’s sleep.’ He gave her a final hug. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow. And don’t forget about Mum’s barbecue, whatever you do.’