I suppressed a groan. As much as I loved him, Jack could not cook to save himself. His various attempts had resulted in burnt chicken, which was bright pink on the inside, and mashed potatoes, which were still raw. And still to this day, I don’t know how he had managed that one. But he was indeed the perfect friend. He knew my kids inside and out. He’d be a great father one day. ‘You, my friend, are a man to marry.’
He beamed. ‘I am, aren’t I?’
‘Except that you can’t cook to save yourself, so I’ll provide the food; you just bring the booze, okay?’
He laughed. ‘Works every time!’
The front door opened and banged shut. ‘Nina! I’m hungry! What’s this secret you’ve got to tell me? Hey, Marrak,’ she greeted, clapping him on the back and seeing the bottle. ‘What are we celebrating?’
‘Oh, nothing much,’ I said with a shrug. ‘Just a Hollywood deal for Written In The Stars.’
Emma’s face – I would never forget it. It went from confused to eyebrows into her scalp, then all teeth and tears as she threw herself at me, jumping up and down, whoop-whooping, and soon we were all a jumble of arms and legs and even Jack got kissed while, in the background, Chloe shrugged at Chanel in disgust.
‘Oh my God, Nina!’ she finally cried, then clapped Jack on the back again.
‘Ow,’ he said. ‘Easy, Em.’
But she ignored him. ‘Do you know what this bloody means? That we know a real celebrity! I want front-row seats at the Oscars when they call out your name! Oh, my God, we’re so bloody proud of you, aren’t we, Jack?’
‘Absolutely proud – but not surprised,’ he said softly.
‘Thanks, guys. Let’s eat! I’ve got trays for the kids so they can eat in the living room while we—’ I held up the bottle of cider and whispered, ‘get pissed!’
Not that we ever did. Jack wasn’t much of a drinker and I always had my kids in the house and Emma only let herself go once a year on one very specific night.
Jack shook his head and opened the bottle while I dished up the food for the kids and then for ourselves.
All evening we talked and dreamed, all the while eating and laughing. God, it felt good. It didn’t hurt to laugh anymore.
*
At midnight Jack got up. ‘Sorry to kill our buzz, ladies, but I’ve got an early start tomorrow.’
‘Going? Aww, you sure?’ I asked. I didn’t want the euphoria to end.
‘Another time. Go and get yourself some rest. You want to be fresh for Hollywood.’
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll call you guys from LA?’ I giggled. ‘Gosh, listen to me, I already sound American!’
‘You are a star…’ Emma swooned, hugging me.
‘Break a leg,’ Jack said, kissing me on the cheek. He smelled like chocolate. ‘Have a great trip.’
‘You too, Jack. You’re not going away on one of your own business meetings? You’ll be here when I get back?’
He held my elbow with his free hand and peered into my face with an amused twinkle in his eyes. ‘I’ll be here when you get back.’
‘Okay, Jack. Night, Em…’
‘Night, Nina.’
I was still chuckling as I closed the door.
House secured and dogs tucked into their baskets, I crept to my room, dizzy more with happiness than cider. Yes! For the first time I was not merely happy, I was elated. Hopeful. Bursting with energy! Sleep? Who was tired? I could actually start a new book tonight! Come to think of it, I could even finish a new book tonight!
But I didn’t, luckily, because it would have been nothing but drunken drivel.
The next morning as I ran my pre-trip errands about town, there was still a feverishness in me that hadn’t disappeared along with the cider fumes.
The news had really gone viral as everyone, including the bank manager, congratulated me.
Alice had done a fabulous job in publicising the news and there was even a headline on some local papers with the new picture I’d sent her. (No makeover, no haircut, just me. Minus the glasses. Sometimes less is more. And the resolution was just fine.)
‘Cornwall writer in talks to secure a Hollywood deal,’ Alf read aloud when I stepped into the Post Of ice. ‘It was about time you got your own back, luv,’ he said, giving me a pat on the cheek.
‘Aww, thanks, Alf.’
Now all I had to do was worry about protecting the kids from the monumental invasion of their privacy that would most certainly ensue, especially if the deal went through.
I only hoped that Phil never read about it and that he stayed away from the internet and any kind of media. I didn’t know what he’d be capable of doing.
For days, everyone I knew continued to call and text, congratulating me and asking questions and wishing us well. And I felt… stronger. More confident, and it wasn’t just the prospect of earnings. I had been given a second chance to make my children’s and my life right.
With Alice’s advance, I paid the school fees for the rest of the year, bought them new uniforms, and sports kits, and set aside some money for the consultation with Ben’s American surgeon.
Then I drove to Falmouth, surprised that Lottie didn’t cough once on the way, and paid a mechanic to give her a good look, once and for all, followed by a trip down to B&Q to buy stuff for the house, like a couple of new dog baskets and cushions for Minnie and Callie, a mirror and a pink clock radio for Chloe and an inflatable car-shaped reading chair and a new pile rug for Ben. And for myself, coloured pens, sticky notes and a pile of notebooks with the words Bright Ideas on the cover, because good things always came in threes.
7
Hollywood Dreams
Because I had sole custody of the kids, I didn’t need Phil’s permission to take them out of the country. So
