‘So Sharon’s definitely staying on?’
‘Of course she is. It’s a proper A-list rising star, an Oscar-bait script, and a budget where she can afford a real crew and all those cranes that directors dream about. It’s all that, versus a malicious rumour that’s going to be forgotten by the time she’s in cinemas. She’s not stupid.’
Matthew walks toward a wooden cabinet in the corner of the room, a brass key sticking out of its keyhole. He takes out two tumblers – Drink Me, thinks Becky – their surfaces shining and jagged like they have been overlaid with the smashed cubes of car window glass. He sloshes whisky into both and hands one to Becky.
‘Ice?’
‘No thanks.’
‘Well then, here’s to you. Your passion for your project. And on a personal note, your loyalty to me continues to move me deeply.’
She turns the words passion and loyalty around in her head as she allows the whisky to touch her lips but go no further. She won’t ever make that mistake again. Anyway, she hates whisky and its peaty, arrogant smell. It reminds her of her father. It’s the smell of verdicts passed and judgements given. An airless drink that listens only to the sound of its own voice.
‘Maisie will be so proud of you when you get this film made.’ He says it as if he has sensed she needs some anchoring and reassurance. ‘It’s a wonderful feeling, to have your child see your work. It’s how they come to know you in a whole different way.’
He takes a drink. ‘And it will be made, I guarantee you that. No matter what happens, even if we lose Emilia and Sharon, even if I have to pay for the thing myself, that film will get made. It’s a story that needs to be told.’ He lays his glass down on a coaster. ‘I couldn’t forgive myself if my own stupidity fucked it up for you after you’d landed it in Cannes.’
The smile he gives her is one that demands to be reciprocated.
And she does smile back, but only mildly, and he drinks again. ‘It can’t be easy for you, all this,’ he says. ‘I had another casting thought. I was thinking of getting my friend Simon Bach to play Jason. What do you think? He’ll do it if I ask. But it’s your film. Your choice.’
‘Yes,’ she says, feeling her eyes light up as if she’s taking receipt of a gift-wrapped box. Simon Bach. Gained the respect of audiences and financiers for choosing high-quality art-house films that ended up outperforming more commercial ventures. He progressed into Marvel, other franchises, always ones that were reviewed well and made millions at the box office. A little older than Emilia. Rugged, blue-eyed, tanned. Dates the A-list world. Rumoured to be gay and worth a fortune.
‘I think that would be great.’ Presents, favours. All reciprocal, aren’t they? ‘Sorry, Matthew, is there a window in here? Can we open a window?’
Matthew opens a window a crack.
‘Do you want to talk to Sharon about him then?’ He is all deference with her. ‘You don’t need him to get it made, but you’ll get a lot more money with him on board. Asia and both the Americas love him.’
‘I’m the woman that Amber saw,’ says Becky.
‘I know.’
Becky is near tears. She wonders if she needs to bother hiding them now.
‘CCTV loop. It’s very discreet but the insurers demanded it as part of the cover for some of our paintings. It downloads in real time to a server. Wipes after twenty-four hours. I’m really sorry you walked in on that little scene. Can I ask what you were doing?’
‘I wanted to give you a bottle of wine to say thanks.’
‘For what?’
‘For taking me to Cannes. Believing in me.’
‘Ah, right.’
‘I took the bottle away with me. Sorry.’
He laughs. He actually laughs. ‘Yes, I can see why you did that. Well, I hope you drank it. And I’m sorry that you walked in on … that whole scene. It must have been horrible seeing your boss like that. I wanted to raise it with you but part of me hoped you’d run off thinking it was Antonia and me together.’
‘Matthew, I have to ask …’ She speaks quickly; she doesn’t want to lose her nerve or this chance to ask the questions that will surely put her mind at rest.
‘Anything.’
‘What happened? What did I see?’
‘You want me to tell you what you saw?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Why don’t you tell me how things looked from your point of view and I’ll fill in the gaps?’
‘No,’ she says, feeling a pinch of anger at this game. ‘I just want you to tell me what happened.’ It is perhaps the first time she has ever outright refused him. Overruled him. If there’s a flicker of irritation from him at this insubordination, he hides it well.
‘It’s exactly as I told you,’ he says. ‘Amber and I had a fling a while back. I was clear with her. Or at least, I thought I was clear about what it was and what it wasn’t. I was never going to leave Antonia. I love Antonia. I have many faults but I’m also very clear about people. I’m loyal, in my way. And believe me, Becky, after you’ve done three or four films, you’ll be sitting here again telling me how unbelievably tame a discreetly conducted affair is compared to what you’ll have seen. Co-stars posting runners at the entrance to the film lot, to tip them off about putting their clothes back on before wives and husbands turn up. The whole crew knows the co-stars are banging each other, but their partners don’t and probably never will. You will see some things, believe me.’
He shifts in his chair. Part of her wants to say, Yes, and, so? But she doesn’t, she doesn’t want to miss a thing.
‘So what does a beautiful young actress like Amber want with
