~
Jenna piled the empty plates together and her mum took them over to the kitchen sink.
‘Anyone want coffee?’ she called back.
‘I’ll have one, love.’ Tony stood up, patted Jenna’s shoulder, and went and sat in his armchair by the TV.
‘Decaf for me please, Kath.’
‘Jenna, you want anything?’
‘Camomile tea, please.’
‘You have a permanent frown on your face, Jenna.’ Carla leaned closer and put her hands on Jenna’s. ‘It doesn’t suit you. You’re my happy easy-going friend; I’m the one who should be all angst-ridden.’
Tony turned on the TV and flicked through the channels. The kettle started to boil and Kath pottered about getting cups out of cupboards.
Jenna gritted her teeth. ‘I’m expected to act a certain way because I look a certain way. You’ve just said it – I can’t possibly be gloomy and emotional because I’m a bubbly blonde.’
‘I’m sorry, Jenna, I didn’t mean it like that...’
Jenna shook her head. ‘No, it’s fine. I know you didn’t. But I’m typecast in real life as well as for roles. I’m expected to behave and react a certain way because I’m a bloody blonde actress. Milo expected me to lap up the attention and got a shock when I didn’t.’ Jenna gazed past Carla at her mum pouring boiling water into mugs. ‘All this shit with Milo has taken over my life; it’s all I can think about. It’s driving me mad.’ Carla’s hands squeezed tighter over hers. Jenna looked at her friend. ‘If I’m feeling this uncomfortable about a story that’s bullshit, do I really want to be famous? I mean famous for fame’s sake?’
‘Well, I guess you need to ask yourself why you wanted to be an actor. Was it for the love of the craft or the idea of celebrity, being someone?’
‘Can’t you “be someone” without having to be famous?’
‘Of course you can, but unfortunately we now live in a society where being famous because you’re pretty or an actress, a model, or because you take your clothes off or go on reality TV, is given more importance than being a nurse or a paramedic, a scientist, a humanitarian. In fact, it’s given more importance than just about anything.’
‘That’s not right, is it?’
‘Of course it’s not, but it’s the world we live in. Reality TV, fake news, Trump as President and Brexit. I mean, it’s all gone to shit. But play the game right, Jen, and you’ll make millions, but you might have to sell your soul in the process.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
The drive back to Cornwall felt even longer. On her way to Surrey, she’d been looking forward to seeing her parents and staying with them, and now she was heading back to an empty cottage and the prospect of work the next day. The holiday traffic didn’t help, and she ended up crawling along the motorway with lorries, caravans and camper vans heading in both directions. She’d been mad to travel this distance in such a short space of time, but she’d been homesick. She’d hoped her visit would have made things clearer, and although she felt like it had been a break – however brief – somehow she was even more confused.
Jenna knew her parents would support her whatever she decided to do. Her mum had been right; it was Jenna’s life and she needed to make a decision based on what she wanted, and not be influenced by her parents. They weren’t going to stop her, but it didn’t mean they were going to like it.
The thoughts that continued to swirl around her head eased a little as she reached Cornwall. As the roads narrowed and the surroundings became greener, she felt calmer. But she didn’t go straight to Bramble Cottage, instead she headed to the coast and the beach Finn had taken her to. She parked in the same car park and checked the time; she had a couple of hours before it started getting dark. She grabbed her shoulder bag and a bottle of water and set off, finding the path through the long grasses that led away from the busy beach in front. Her feet pounded the sandy path and she was glad she’d thrown a jumper on over her T-shirt. Her legs were bare in denim shorts and the grass tickled as she walked. The further she went, the quieter it became, the sound of people and cars disappearing as she rounded the headland. The view was as stunning as the first time she’d seen it with Finn. The rugged coastline from high on the cliff was bathed in a golden light.
She waited at the top of the steps to the beach to let a family go past, parents and three kids with an assortment of rucksacks and bags, with colourful nets poking out of the top of the dad’s bag. They smiled and said hello as they went by, probably off to get changed before going out to a pub for Sunday dinner. Maybe they were lucky enough to be staying in one of the hillside holiday houses with their far-reaching sea views.
As Jenna started down the steep stepped path, her stomach rumbled. It had been a long time ago since she’d eaten a sad-looking sandwich at a service station on the M5. She’d do anything for a roast dinner right now. Like the roast she’d had at Finn’s parents’ back when life had been so damn good. She wished Finn
