He’s going to turn out a prissy one day, he is, Phil had scolded me when Ben had mastered making muffins. It’s a good job he likes cars or I’d be very worried.
Ben must be free to do whatever he wants in life, I defended. But deep down in my heart, I knew that until his leg was operated on, he would never be able to do that. He enjoyed watching sports and cheering everyone on, often jumping up and down with sheer glee when someone scored, but then in the next few days he’d become all pensive.
Now, intellectually and socially, I knew that Ben would do well in life. What I wanted was for him to feel the joy of his feet pounding on the ground as he ran laps around the school playground or played tag and later in life, ran to catch the train for his first job interview, or to see off a friend or even propose to his girlfriend the old-fashioned, romantic way. Ben had to be okay. There was no way I could ever be happy knowing that my little man wasn’t enjoying his young life to the full. And I would see to it that he did, even if it meant selling the shirt off my back.
18
The Odd Couple
Luke and Jessica were scheduled to arrive on 1st August, and in the week before that, I was in a funny new kind of hell that most women would liken to menopause, i.e. hot flashes, memory loss (had I ever got round to cleaning out the box room?) and mood swings (what kind of crappy movie is going to come out of this?).
And of course, self-doubt: How the hell do you prepare yourself to write a script, when you’ve never written one before in your life, with a man you’ve just met who, incidentally, wants to change at least half of it?
And how on earth do you prepare your home for a Hollywood star? Where would we write – on the kitchen table? I looked around and suddenly the things that hadn’t mattered before were humongous issues now, like the noisy pipes, the five-minute delay before you actually got any hot water and the green bathroom suite. My tablecloths were all faded with washing, most of my mugs were chipped and the back door screeched like a banshee when you opened it. And the fridge barked as usual, but for once, it was the very least of my worries.
The morning Luke was due, I was one huge mass of nervous jelly. I had pulled the dining room table closer to the window, exchanging it with my War Desk which was too tiny, retrieved the two good chairs, while pulling out notebooks, writing pads, coloured pens, highlighters and even Post-it Notes in case Luke was old-school. I had no idea how he worked.
And as I fidgeted like a schoolgirl before an exam, it dawned on me that this could really tank if we didn’t work well together. My family’s every hope lay in the success of this project. So I had to be as professional as possible. And speaking of which, I realised, glancing at my watch, that Luke was late. It figured. Stars always made an entrance, I knew that, but wasn’t that supposed to be limited to the red carpet?
I drove over to the village of Little Kettering where he would be staying, bringing along a bottle of Jack’s cider and a box of scones for Jessica. I knew that was her one weakness, only she continued with the travesty of putting cream on first. I would make a Cornish girl out of her yet. I waited, chatting away with the receptionist at The Old Bell Inn, my stomach a king-size butterfly cage.
A half hour later, when Luke’s taxi finally arrived, he got out, all harried, something akin to a scowl on his face.
Oh, no, no, no, I begged as I watched him pay the taxi driver through the hotel doors. Please don’t be angry. This is supposed to be the third most beautiful day of my life!
‘Hello and welcome to Cornwall!’ I sang, hugging Jessica and wrapping her hands around the box. ‘These scones are for you.’
‘Thanks, Nina!’ she said, feeling her way up my arm to kiss my cheek.
‘Hi…’ Luke breathed, exhaustion on his face. So much for jet-setters. ‘Jet lag is horrible flying east!’
‘Oh. Yes, it is.’ There went the ultra-original opening gambit I’d prepared, i.e. How was your flight?
As the driver pulled their cases out of the boot, Luke looked around and suddenly jolted forward to kiss me as if he had almost forgotten we were absolute bosom buddies. ‘Good to see you, Nina.’
‘And you. The kids are at home, preparing you a welcome party.’
Luke forced himself to not cringe.
‘Oh, it’s just us!’ I assured him. ‘I mean, of course, what with the papers, everyone knows you’re coming, but I’ll try to get them to leave you alone while you’re in Cornwall.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, taking Jessica’s arm and I followed them into the lobby. ‘We’ll need to catch up on our sleep first.’
‘Of course. So, uhm, I’ll let you get on with it. You have my number. Just give me a ring when you’re ready for me to come pick you up.’
‘I’ve hired a car locally.’
‘Okay, then. Just, uhm, let me know when you want to meet up. Have a lovely afternoon. Bye, Jessica…’
‘Bye Nina, thanks for these. So, it is jam first, right?’
‘Right. We have a certain way of doing things properly here in Cornwall.’ And to Luke I simply said, ‘Goodbye’ and left.
Talk about ice. Had I crowded him? All I did was show up to greet them, and yet, Luke apparently hadn’t appreciated it. Fine. At least now I knew my boundaries.
‘Where are they?’ Ben asked when I got in, somewhat deflated.
‘Oh, they’re absolutely exhausted, love, but they’re meeting us once they have rested.’
‘When’s
