Goodbye, my dearest, kindest friend in the entire universe.
31
Miss You Already
At least at home things were improving with our script.
‘This is gonna be great. I can already see Stella’s slim figure set against the Cornish cliffs, waiting for Dylan to return.’
If he ever returned. Would she ever see him again, I wondered?
‘Nina? What’s with you lately? You’ve been moping around as if you’d been given a death sentence.’
I picked myself up and forced a smile. ‘I’m sorry, Luke. I’m just – just tired. You were talking about Stella?’
‘Yeah. I was saying that it would be beautiful to see her tall, slim figure set against the sunset waiting for her lover to return.’
‘Not too slim, though,’ I countered. ‘Real women aren’t a size zero. We have flesh and organs, remember. Otherwise you might as well cast a paper doll.’
‘Yeah, but we also want to appeal to the younger audiences.’
‘If it’s a good story, you won’t need to. Everyone can relate to a well-written story, as long as it establishes a connection with the reader. But usually all good stories do.’
‘But what about the younger fans? They’re my safer bet.’
‘And that’s where you’re wrong. As girls mature to womanhood, their tastes mature as well, so if you have mostly young fans, they’ll grow out of you, whereas if your target audience is, as you say, middle-aged, they’ll stay with you forever. Emma’s mum still goes to David Essex’s concerts. Mature women are more faithful, and don’t easily forget their first crush.’
‘Is that what you expected to happen with you and Phil?’
Ah. Here we were again, nosy sod. ‘No comment. But I will tell you this. I never write for a target audience. If a story is good, it will resonate with people from every walk of life, age and religious faith. So I really wouldn’t worry about how old your fans are, Luke. You should be grateful for every single one of them, as I am.’
‘Uh, speaking of fans, Nina…’
‘Yes?’
‘You understand that we still have to keep this a secret a little while longer,’ he said. ‘From the paps, I mean. If they find out I’m dating an English woman I’ll never hear the end of it.’
I bristled. ‘Yet I can take you in under the very roof my children sleep under, toss their lives upside down like a salad, and you’re okay with that.’
‘I’m sorry, Nina, but I have to follow the rules in my contract. I have to do everything I can to protect my career.’
His career? What about us?
‘Mum?’ came Chloe’s voice from the threshold.
‘Dad?’ came Jess’s like an echo.
We turned to look at the pair of them and instantly knew something was wrong.
It wasn’t just the way Chloe was folding one foot over the other like she did when she knew she was in deep trouble, nor how they were clinging to each other. It was their pale faces and their enormous eyes that made my heart lurch.
We shot to our feet. ‘Ben? Is he okay?’
‘He’s fine, Mum, he’s at Jack’s remember?’ Chloe said.
Yes, of course I remembered. Jack and Ben were still as close as ever, but you never stopped worrying in any case as a parent.
‘Are you guys okay?’ Luke said as we covered the few feet between us and them, meeting in the hall.
‘Yes, yes.’ Jess nodded, biting her lip as Chloe glanced at her, then turned to me. ‘But we have something to tell you both and you’re not going to like it.’
A knock on the door saved them – for the moment – but I noticed the way they kept glancing at each other, cringing. If it wasn’t health-related, they’d have to wait until I got rid of the unexpected caller.
I opened the door to a beautiful woman about my age.
‘Hello,’ she said.
I had no idea who she was, but it was instantly obvious to me that she was troubled.
‘Hello,’ I answered, desperate to get back to the girls. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Is this Cornflower Cottage?’
‘It is. Can I help you?’
‘I’d like to speak to Luke O’Hara, please.’
Ah. Emma had been right about his fans. It was only a matter of time until he was tracked down, even in our quiet little neck of the woods. Unless…
‘Are you a reporter?’ I asked politely. That was the last thing Luke wanted, someone to know he was living with an English woman, as if we were the Antichrist.
She chuckled. ‘Me? No. I’m—’
‘Who is it, Nina?’ Luke said as he padded into view behind me, then: ‘L-Lauren?’
I looked back and forth between them, frozen like two statues, facing each other.
Lauren? As in ex-wife Lauren? How was that even possible? After thirteen years?
‘Mom?’ came Jess’s voice from behind us.
Luke turned to Chloe, all colour drained from his face. ‘Jess – upstairs. Now.’
‘But, Dad—’ Jess said.
‘Now, Jess.’
‘No, Dad. Please. I-I called her.’
Luke turned to stare at her. ‘You what?’
‘Please don’t be upset, Dad. I just wanted to meet her…’
‘It’s my fault, Luke!’ Chloe said. ‘We were on Facebook a while ago, and I suggested looking for her mum so I could at least describe her to Jess – and next thing you know we were writing her a message.’ Chloe left Jess’s side and came to stand straight in front of our visitor. ‘We asked you to wait until we could speak to Luke!’
‘I need to speak to you, Luke,’ Lauren said quietly.
‘Chloe,’ I said, taking her hand in mine and Jess’s in the other. ‘Let’s go upstairs and give them a chance to talk.’ Chloe, slack-jawed for once, nodded and did as she was told. ‘Come on, Jess,’ she whispered and together the three of us ascended the stairs, the weight of the world in our every step. Goodness knew what Luke was feeling right now.
‘Are you angry, too, Mum?’ Chloe wanted to know as the three of us sat down on her
