The One You Love (18 page)

‘Because I want to,’ she said. ‘We can get a cab.’

‘If you want.’

‘Let me just tell Lizzy. Wait there until I get back.’ She pointed at the spot where he was standing.

He nodded, his head seemingly loose at the neck.

When Emma got back, Will had gone. She dashed outside, wondering what might happen to him in that state, wandering around the West End. When the night air hit, she realised how much she, too, had drank.

Will was wandering across the road, trying to flag down a cab.

‘Will!’ she shouted, sprinting up to him, dodging the traffic. She pulled him onto the pavement. He seemed amused by the attention, and completely unaware that he’d just been standing in the middle of the road. ‘I’m going to get you home, now.’

‘Okay,’ slurred Will. ‘Home sounds nice.’

It was tricky hailing a cab with one hand whilst holding onto her brother with the other; Emma didn’t dare let go in case he ran out into the road, or fell and smacked his head on the concrete. Eventually she did succeed, and then managed to persuade the driver that Will was fit enough to travel back without vomiting. Ten minutes later they got back to Will’s flat. She struggled up the stairs, with Will maintaining the same silence as in the cab. She gave him a glass of water, and two paracetamol; his flight was taking off from Heathrow at ten the next morning, and he would need all the help he could get to avoid – or at least dampen – the hangover.

‘Thanks,’ he said, breaking his silence, slugging back the water and the tablets.

Emma watched as he lay down on the sofa and covered his face with his hands.

‘Are you okay, Will?’

‘I don’t deserve you,’ he said, his voice muffled against his hands. ‘Not after what I’ve done to you.’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘I just want to forget,’ he said, before falling asleep.

30

‘You didn’t have to stay, you know,’ said Will, looking up from the sofa and grimacing against the light as, over in the small kitchen area, Emma poured a cup of tea.

Emma popped a couple of rounds of bread into the toaster. ‘I wanted to. It wasn’t a problem.’

‘I appreciate it.’ Will attempted to sit up. ‘Ouch.’ He brought a hand to his head.

Emma brought over the tea. ‘Hangover?’

‘One mother of a hangover,’ he complained, taking hold of the cup. ‘Feels like someone’s playing pinball inside my head.’

‘I don’t know about pinball. Last night you were playing Frogger with the traffic on Tottenham Court Road.’

‘Oh, bollocks.’ Will looked concerned and ashamed. ‘Was I really?’

‘Really.’

‘And you saved me from certain death?’

‘Most probably.’

‘I don’t deserve you,’ he said, taking a sip of the tea before breaking out into a cough.

‘That’s what you said last night,’ Emma replied.

He looked up.

‘What else did I say? I didn’t say anything stupid, did I?’

‘I think you were still feeling guilty about what happened with Stephen.’

‘Oh, right.’ He looked down into the tea.

‘You really can’t remember any of that running about in the road?’

‘Can’t remember anything. Apart from dancing.’

‘You did do a lot of that.’

‘It just gets worse. Shit, what time is it?’ He scrambled for his watch.

‘Seven o’clock,’ Emma said. ‘You want me to book a taxi?’

Will rose from the sofa. ‘Already done it, yesterday. It’s due to pick me up in half an hour.’

***

Twenty-five minutes later he stood in the centre of the lounge, holding a travel bag in each hand. It didn’t look enough for a trans-Atlantic trip.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘here starts my big adventure.’

‘Are you sure about this?’ asked Emma. Will didn’t cut a convincing figure, and she was certain it wasn’t just the hangover that made him look so washed out.

‘Sure as I’ll ever be.’ He gave an unconvincing smile.

‘Maybe you should stay here,’ she suggested. ‘Get some help, with us to support you.’

‘No,’ he said simply, the smile vanishing. ‘I have to do this, Em. I need to get away.’

‘But aren’t you just running away from your problems?’

‘Maybe I am,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s something I want to do. I think it will help.’

‘What will you do over there?’

‘I’ve always wanted to see the major sights – you know, Niagara Falls, go up the CN Tower, maybe go to the Canadian Rockies and see some bears.’

Emma watched as he enthused about Canada and for a moment he actually looked happy and excited. Maybe it was just what he needed.

‘And will your friend Stefan be around?’ she asked.

‘He said he could take a week off. But he’s got some other friends I can hang around with, too. Don’t worry about me, Em. I’ll be fine.’

‘Good,’ Emma said. ‘I’m glad. I just want you to be happy, Will.’

***

‘I’ll call you when I get to Canada,’ said Will, his head sticking out of the taxi window.

‘Make sure you do.’

‘I hope everything is okay next week. I know it wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.’

‘I’m sure it’ll be okay,’ Emma replied. ‘I’ve just got to get over it.’

‘We’ll both come through this, Em. When I get back, we can go out to celebrate our new start.’

***

Emma watched as the taxi drove off. She hoped that Will was right, and that he could somehow cure his demons so far from home. She hoped, too, that they would both be able to make a new start.

She checked her watch, before heading towards the tube. Hopefully she would catch Lizzy before she left for her rehearsals, and hopefully Lizzy would be fresh and reasonably awake, ready to give advice and support – because if she was going to meet Guy Roberts she would need all the advice and support she could get.

***

Will sat back in the cab’s seat and closed his eyes. His head was spinning ever so slightly, and he prayed that he would keep his breakfast down on the way to the airport. He opened his eyes and watched as London passed by. He didn’t think he would miss it: at least, not at first anyway.

As the taxi neared Heathrow he gazed skywards as dozens of aeroplanes flew past: just some of the millions who left and arrived every year, each with their own mixture of hopes and dreams, disappointments and fears.

He wondered whether this really was the start of something new, something better.

Then his phone rang. The realisation of who was calling crushed his optimism dead.

‘What the hell do you want?’ he said, grasping the phone tightly. ‘You said it would be the last time… look, I told you, that’s it, no more… I don’t care what you do. Do whatever you like. Just leave me alone.’

He cut off the conversation and glanced at the driver. His head was fixed straight ahead, focussing on the road, apparently oblivious to what had just happened. Will considered apologising for the tone of the call, but the cabbie had probably heard much worse than that in his career. Instead he simply turned off his phone and stuffed it into his bag, hoping that what he had just said, and the way he had said it, wouldn’t prove to be his undoing.

31

Emma’s new start began that afternoon, in a particularly exclusive part of Notting Hill. She’d rarely been to this part of London before, and had certainly never gone there to visit anyone. You had to be seriously wealthy to live in such a place – seriously wealthy, like Guy Roberts.

She reached his door and rang the bell, thinking back to the advice Lizzy had given her about keeping calm and maintaining control. But as she waited for someone to answer, with the sound of birdsong ringing around her, she felt anything but calm and in control. This was unlike anything she had ever done in the past. She remembered the night she’d found out that she’d got the part in
Up My Street
– she had gone out to a nightclub with friends, and spent much of the night on the dance floor, trying to come to terms with the fantastic news. But this was taking things to a whole new level. The man who was presumably waiting inside to speak to her was a world-renowned casting director who had mixed with some of the world’s biggest movie stars.

She took a deep breath as the door started to open.

‘Emma, it’s so great to see you,’ said Guy Roberts, taking her hand and shaking it vigorously. ‘C’mon in.’

She followed him down the hallway and into the lounge area. The house was as nice inside as out, decked out like a Hollywood mansion. Framed posters of movies adorned the walls, and a piano stood in one corner of the room.

‘Take a seat,’ he said. ‘Can I get you a drink? Tea, coffee, something a little stronger?’

Emma sat down.
‘Tea would be great.’

‘Very wise,’ he said, smiling. ‘I always like to keep a clear head whilst doing business. Unless of course I go out to discuss terms with agents – then the more you drink the better. I’ll just be a second; I’d already boiled the kettle.’ He disappeared around the corner. ‘You can take a look at the papers, if you like,’ he shouted from the next room.

Emma took a look at the paper that had been lying upside down on the table in front of her.

It was a cast list for the movie.

And her name was on it.

‘You can close your mouth if you like,’ joked Guy as he came through with two cups of tea. ‘I know it was a little presumptuous of me, but I was working on my laptop last night with the cast list on the screen and that one gap was just so painful. I couldn’t help myself.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Emma admitted, looking down the list of people.

‘I’m pretty pleased with the cast. You like the look of it?’

‘Of course.’

It was an impressive list. Most of those playing the lead characters were already established movie actors, with three or four films under their belts. The leading man, Colin Farley, had been in a couple of Hollywood hits, albeit in supporting rather than leading roles.

‘And how does it feel to be up there with them?’

‘Good,’ she said. ‘It feels good.’

‘Well, that’s good. So let’s get down to business.’

He reached down behind him and pulled out another piece of paper.

‘This,’ he said, sliding the paper across the glass table, ‘is how much we would be offering you.’

Emma took one look at the details and had to put a hand across her mouth just to stop herself from swearing out loud.

‘I said we could offer you money you’d only dreamt of!’ Guy smiled.

‘But I don’t deserve this,’ she said.

He laughed. ‘Oh, Emma, if only all the actors I work with were as honest as you.’

‘But this would be my first movie, I don’t have any experience…’

‘Why do you think I do this job, Emma?’

‘I… I don’t know.’

‘Well it’s certainly not for the money anymore. I could easily afford to retire. The reason I do this, what gets me up in the morning, casting for new films, is because I love breaking new talent. It gives me a real buzz to identify someone with untapped potential: someone I think can make it right to the top. Someone like you, Emma.’

Emma smiled, embarrassed.

‘The minute I watched you in that first reading, I knew that I wanted you to be in this film. That’s why I was so disappointed when you called saying that you were pulling out.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said, struggling to maintain her excitement.

‘Just say yes.’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s terrific,’ he said, clapping his hands together. ‘I can liaise with your agent on the exact terms. You know, Emma, I really believe you have a bright future in the business. You have something. Something all of those other girls don’t have. You’re different, and I don’t mean that in a derogatory way. There’s more to you. I hear that you used to be a karate champion.’

‘How did you know that?’ asked Emma, genuinely shocked that he knew so much about her past.

‘Ah… we casting directors have our ways and means.’ He tapped his nose, without elaborating further.

‘What else do you know about me? Nothing bad, I hope?’

‘Well, that would be telling.’ He winked at her. ‘So, Emma, what’s your diary looking like next week?’

‘Err, pretty empty,’ she said, thinking quite irrationally that maybe he knew somehow about the planned wedding, and its subsequent cancellation.

‘Perfect. Because on Wednesday we’ve got a very special night planned. We’ve hired out a boat on the Thames, for a floating party. All the cast are invited, so you can get to know each other. There’ll also be other people there – the director and producer, scriptwriter, and me of course. I promise it’ll be a great night.’