To the Moon and Back (14 page)

‘What's this? I didn't send you this.' Tony's agent had called by the house in Beverly Hills to get a sheaf of contracts signed and show off his fresh-from-the-showroom lime-green Ferrari. As long as it ‘pulled the chicks'—Marvin's own excruciating words—it didn't bother him that the color clashed with his brick-red face. Now, out on the shaded terrace, he homed in on the screenplay lying on the table next to the water jug. ‘Where d'ya get this thing, Tone? Jeez, that's the crappiest title I ever heard in my life.'

‘I know. But the script's bloody good. In fact it's amazing,' said Tony. ‘Don't pick it up.'

‘Bluddy good, bluddy good,
amaaayzing
.' Marvin chuckled; it cracked him up to imitate Tony's accent. ‘So who wrote it?'

‘No one you know. Just leave it. Here, have a drink. Are you hungry?' Oh, it was so easy to wind Marvin up. Reverse psychology was a wonderful thing. Tony covertly watched as his agent picked up the script and turned to the first page.

In all honesty, it wasn't the best first page in the world. Ninety-nine percent of agents would have given up. Then again, ninety-nine percent of agents didn't have Tony Weston saying, as if he meant it, ‘I'm serious, Marvin, put it down, it's nothing to do with you.'

What could be more enticing than that?

Tony got on with signing his way through the contracts Marvin had brought over. And he waited. When several more minutes had passed, he said, ‘Well?'

‘Interesting. Different.' Marvin's Prada shades were pushed up on to his shiny red forehead. If it had been physically possible, he would have been frowning. ‘There's no part in it for you.'

‘I know. But I have a real feeling about this script. You know how sometimes you just get that? And it never does any harm to be the person who introduces the right script to the right producer. I have a few contacts that—'

‘Hello, mission control? Who has more contacts in this business? You or me?'

‘Yes, but—'

‘Cor-
rect
.' Marvin pointed a stubby finger at him. ‘I do. Who works for one of the biggest talent agencies in the country? Oh, wow, would ya believe it, me again. Tone, do the right thing here, wouldja? Just let me take care of this, let me take it back to the agency and show it to Stephen. If anyone can get a buzz going, he can.'

Tony hid a smile. In the space of a few minutes he hadn't done such a bad job on the buzz front himself. But that was this industry for you. Appear desperate and you're dead in the water. Tell someone they can't have something and they'll snap your hand off. Even now, Marvin was flicking through the pages of the screenplay with a greedy, acquisitive glint in his eye.

Welcome to Hollywood, baby.

***

‘Darling, come on, just say yes. You know you want to really.'

OK, the time had come. Zack prepared himself for the imminent fallout. He hadn't actually planned for this to happen this evening, here in Louisa's flat, but she had forced his hand. Throughout dinner all she'd talked about was holidays. Friends of hers had rented a luxury villa in Tuscany in late August and were keen for Louisa and Zack to join them, but they now needed a definite answer by tomorrow, presumably so that if they were turned down they could move on to the next couple on the list.

Zack also presumed that since it was already mid-July, he and Louisa hadn't been anywhere near the top of it.

But Louisa had been enthralled by her friends' offer and was longing to go. Now, desperate to persuade him that he did too, she was giving him her playful, encouraging look. ‘Think about how fabulous it'll be. And best of all, it's adults only! No ghastly screaming kids to ruin the ambience and fill the pool with inflatables.' Evidently inflatables in a pool were on a par with used condoms. ‘Just glorious peace and quiet, wonderful food, grown-up conversation, and fine wine. What could
be
more idyllic?'

By grown-up conversation, needless to say, she meant endless discussions about which celebrity had the best face-lift. Right, here we go. Brace, brace. Zack said, ‘Honestly? It doesn't sound that idyllic to me. My idea of a great holiday is going home to Cornwall and piling down to the beach with my nephews and nieces. We play volleyball and dig holes in the sand, we eat ice cream, we throw each other into the sea, and we make a lot—and I mean a lot—of noise.'

‘Oh!' Louisa sat back, startled. ‘Oh… sorry, I had no idea.' Mentally regrouping, she said hastily, ‘But that sounds nice too! Look, maybe we could pop down to see your family before we go to Italy…'

‘I really don't think you'd like it,' said Zack. ‘There are babies, there are dogs, there are whoopee cushions. There's fish and chips, and games on the beach, and fairground rides.' He shook his head. ‘And there's very little in the way of grown-up conversation.'

‘But—'

‘In fact, anyone attempting even
that much
grown-up conversation'—he held up his hand, his finger and thumb a couple of millimeters apart—‘gets wrapped up in seaweed and chucked into the sea.'

‘OK, OK, I get it. You like noisy holidays. So what are we going to do?' She fixed him with a let's-negotiate smile.

‘I think you should go to Tuscany,' said Zack. ‘You'll have a great time.'

The smile faltered. ‘You mean… on my own?'

‘We don't like the same things.'

Louisa's eyebrows had gone right up. ‘On my
own
?'

‘Look, we need to talk.' Zack put down his cheese knife; God, he hated this bit. ‘The thing is, I really think you'd be happier with someone else.'

‘I'd be happier with someone else,' Louisa echoed, dumbfounded. ‘On holiday?'

‘Not just on holiday. In general. In your life.'

‘You mean… instead of you?'

‘No, no… well, yes.' He was rubbish at this. How did other people do it? Please don't let her start crying.

‘You're finishing with me?'

‘Not
finishing
. I just think it would be better if we… you know, called it a day.'

Louisa put down her spoon. ‘But it wouldn't be better for me. I don't want to call it a day.'

OK, this wasn't getting them anywhere. Zack took a deep breath and said steadily, ‘Yes, but I do.'

She let out a wail of anguish. ‘Zacky,
why
?'

He cringed. She'd just called him
Zacky
. Could he cite this as reason number one?

But that would be cruel. He didn't want to be cruel. ‘Look, you're great. It's not you, it's me. I work too hard. You deserve to be with someone who'll make you happy.'

‘You make me happy.'

‘I wouldn't.' Zack shook his head. ‘Not in the long term.'

‘But I thought we were in it for the long term!' She was crying now, trying to reach across the table for his hands. ‘I'm thirty-five, Zack. This was our future. I thought we'd end up having kids together, the works!'

This was the first he'd heard of it. ‘You don't like kids,' Zack pointed out. ‘The whole point of going to Tuscany was because there wouldn't be any kids there to ruin the holiday.'

‘
Other
people's kids. That's completely different. I still want some of my own!'

Some?

‘I'm sorry.' Zack stood up. ‘I should go. You'll be fine…'

‘I can't believe this. I cooked you dinner.' Louisa flung out her arm in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Boulangère potatoes and rack of lamb! From a proper butcher!'

‘I know, and it was
great
.' Maybe he should send her flowers tomorrow to say thanks. God, it was all so complicated and fraught. Why was it so much easier to walk away from a rocky business deal than from a no-hope emotional relationship?

‘Are you seeing someone else?' She searched his face.

Zack kept his expression carefully neutral. ‘No, no one.'

‘Sure? Because that would make sense. More sense than you just deciding out of the blue that, hey, we like different holidays so let's break up.'

‘I'm not seeing anyone else.'

‘Not even whatshername? That cute little PA of yours?' Mascara was leaking into the creases around Louisa's carefully made-up eyes. ‘Ellie?'

‘No.' He shook his head. He saw Ellie almost every day. But not in the way Louisa meant. It killed him to see her and not be able to do anything, but it would be even harder to bear not seeing her at all.

At least they were in Louisa's flat, meaning he could be the one to leave. In the hallway, she tried to throw herself into his arms. He gave her one last apologetic hug.

‘How about Disney World?' She mumbled the words damply into his shoulder. ‘We could go there if you like.'

He didn't reply.

Louisa pulled away and gazed miserably up at him. ‘No?'

‘Sorry.' Zack shook his head; it was time to get out of here. ‘Bye.'

OK, was this sneaky? He didn't resort to underhand tactics as a rule. But if they helped, why not?

Zack bent down, unclipped Elmo's lead, and pushed the front door shut behind him. Elmo, tail wagging, trotted down the hallway to greet Ellie.

‘Hello, baby! Did you have a lovely walk?'

Wouldn't it be great if she could be saying that to him?

‘Morning.' By the time he reached the office, Elmo was up on her lap. ‘On a diet?'

‘No.' She looked at him, mystified.

‘Good. You can have one of these, then.' Zack opened the lid of the cake box to show her. ‘I had to get them. We were walking past the deli and they were in the window.'

‘Calling out to you.' Ellie grinned. ‘Beckoning and whispering your name. They do that sometimes. Especially those naughty strawberry ones.'

He loved the way she instinctively mimed the beckoning and whispering as she said it, without having the remotest idea how irresistible it made her look. He could watch her forever.

‘You like them?'

‘Just a bit!'

‘I'll get us a couple of plates.'

‘Thank you,' said Ellie when he came back from the kitchen. She tipped Elmo off her lap and helped herself to one of the pastries, biting into a glazed strawberry with relish. ‘Mm, gorgeous.'

A little gentle bribery never hurt. Zack took another cake for himself and pulled out the chair opposite.

‘Just so you know, you won't be seeing Louisa around here anymore. We broke up.' He said it casually but kept a close eye on her reaction; wouldn't it be fantastic if her face lit up, betraying the feelings she'd worked so hard to keep hidden from him all this time…

‘Oh no, I'm sorry.' Ellie put down her cake. ‘Are you upset?'

So much for hidden feelings.

‘No.'

‘Was it her decision or yours?'

She looked genuinely concerned. For a split second he considered going for the sympathy vote. But no, that would be too underhanded. Zack smiled briefly and said, ‘Mine.'

‘Oh, well. In that case, I'm glad.'

‘Really?' Hope flared.

‘She wasn't right for you.' Picking her cake back up, Ellie licked a swirl of cream. ‘She
definitely
wasn't right for Elmo.'

‘I know.'

‘And she was suspicious of me too. Like, she didn't trust me working with you.' Ellie sucked strawberry glaze from her index finger. ‘I mean, that was just downright embarrassing.'

OK
,
you can stop now…

‘Anyway, she's gone.' Zack pulled the diary across the desk towards him. ‘So, if she wasn't right for me, who would be?' He sat back, feigning amused detachment. ‘What kind of girl should I go for next?'

‘Seriously? Someone fun. With a good sense of humor. Outgoing. Likes dogs. Doesn't like Liquorice Allsorts.'

‘But… I
like
Liquorice Allsorts.'

‘Exactly. If she liked them too, you'd end up fighting over the good ones. Far better that she doesn't.'

‘You're really giving this some thought, aren't you?'

Ellie swallowed another mouthful of puff pastry and cream. ‘It's in my best interests to get you matched up with someone nice. Stop you being grumpy.'

‘I'm never grumpy,' Zack protested. Cheek!

‘Ah, grumpy people always say that.'

‘Fine, then. I'll look out for a liquorice-hating, dog-loving, fifty-years-younger version of Joan Rivers. But in the meantime…' idly he turned over a few pages in the office diary. ‘I may need to ask you a favor.'

Ellie didn't hesitate. ‘No problem. What kind of favor?'

Oh yes, he was brilliant. This could make all the difference. It had only occurred to him this morning that he might be able to use the situation to his advantage… maybe socializing with Ellie outside the office environment would enable her to view him in a different light.

Who knows, it could ignite the spark.

‘There are evening events I have to attend. Sometimes I need to take along a partner. It's just that everyone else does, so it messes up the numbers if you go on your own… anyway, they're usually OK, not too boring…'
Shut up, listen to yourself, you sound like an idiot
. ‘So how about it? Does that seem like something you wouldn't mind helping me out with sometimes?'
Jesus, never mind an idiot, you sound like a complete dick
.

‘Why not? Sounds like fun. Yes, great.' Ellie was smiling at him as if he wasn't a dick. But sadly not as if she found him completely irresistible either.

‘Great.'
No, she just said great, you don't say great too.
‘Right, well, this is the first one, let me tell you about it.' He tapped the page he'd stopped at. ‘It's being held at the Dorchester next Wednesday and—'

‘Wednesday?' Ellie's hand flew to her mouth. ‘I can't do next Wednesday! Sorry!'

‘Oh. Shame.' It wasn't really vital to take along a partner but he was still disappointed. So much for the grand plan.

‘Isn't that typical? The one thing I really can't get out of. Any other evening and I could have done it.'

‘No problem, I'll manage. So, something nice?'

Ellie hesitated. After a moment, as if debating whether or not to tell him, she said, ‘Hope so. It's a party for my boyfriend's mum.'

Well. That was a bolt from the blue. Taken aback, Zack wondered what had prompted it. Was she really coming clean after all this time about her relationship with Tony Weston?

Plus, if that was who she was talking about, how old must his mother be? A hundred and forty?

Aloud he said, ‘Well, you can't miss that.' OK, seeing as she'd raised the subject, he'd keep it going. ‘Where's the party?'

‘In her garden. It's a barbecue.' Ellie was busy playing with Elmo's lopsided ears. ‘Which means it'll probably tip down with rain, but never mind.'

‘And is it a special birthday?'

‘Oh yes. She's sixty.'

Not Tony Weston's mother, then. Zack's heart was hammering against his ribs. ‘So what's this boyfriend's name?'

She turned pink. ‘Todd.'

‘You've never mentioned him before.' It was hard work, keeping his tone casual.

‘No. Well, it's all pretty new. We've only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks.'

‘Going OK?'

Ellie nodded and said brightly, ‘Going great!'

Damn. Damn you, Todd, whoever you are.

‘And was there someone else before that?' Was he asking too many personal questions now? Possibly, but he needed to know.

She hesitated. ‘What, you mean
ever
?'

‘I meant since you've been here in Primrose Hill.'

Ellie shook her head. ‘No, this is the first for a while.' She looked puzzled. ‘Why?'

Always keep your lies as close as possible to the truth. Zack said, ‘It's just that someone happened to mention they thought they'd seen you with Tony Weston.'

Ellie's flush deepened significantly. ‘Oh.'

‘And then I realized, that time I called you at home a while back, he was the person who answered the phone.'

‘Right. Yes, it was.' She clicked her fingers at Elmo, inviting him to jump back on to her lap. Classic distraction technique.

He'd started, so he may as well finish. ‘And you did say you were living rent-free in your friend's flat.'

‘Oh
God
.' Half laughing, half mortified, Ellie buried her face in Elmo's furry ears. ‘He's a
friend
. He's not my boyfriend! I can't believe you thought that!'

‘Sorry. I'm sorry.' He'd jumped to conclusions and got it oh-so-wrong. Zack said, ‘I can't believe I thought it either. Blame it on Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones.' Right, so the good news was that Ellie had never been romantically involved with Tony Weston. The bad news was that he appeared to have missed his window of opportunity and she was now ecstatically happy with someone else.

Seriously, did someone up there not like him?

‘He's just a friend.' Ellie was still cringing and shaking her head.

‘And what a great friend to have.' To change the subject, Zack said, ‘How did you come to meet him?'

Ellie swallowed, then gazed out of the window, visibly psyching herself up. On the desk, the phone started to ring. ‘Well, er…'

‘Leave it,' Zack stopped her as she moved to lift the receiver. ‘If it's important they'll call back.' Too intrigued to give up now, he said, ‘Carry on with the story.'

Because there was a story, he knew that much for sure.

The phone stopped ringing. Ellie was still holding on to Elmo for dear life. Elmo, reveling in the attention, was now reclining like a hairy mini-Cleopatra in her arms.

‘Tony's my father-in-law. Well,' Ellie amended, ‘he was my father-in-law.'

‘So you were married.' The moment the words were out of his mouth, Zack made the connection.
He knew
. Hadn't he Googled Tony Weston that very first day, after seeing the two of them together at the Ivy? Hadn't he read on Wikipedia that Tony Weston's real name was Tony Something-else? But back then, the fact that his surname was Kendall hadn't been significant enough to remember, which was why it hadn't rung any bells when Ellie had eventually come into his life.

And hadn't he also read in the same entry about the tragic loss of Tony's only son in a car accident?

Oh God.

‘I was married.' Ellie dipped her head in agreement, acknowledging the fact that he'd figured it out. ‘His name was Jamie. He was… lovely.' She carried on gently stroking Elmo's head. ‘But he died.'

‘I'm so sorry.' Zack couldn't begin to imagine what she'd been through. ‘I didn't know.' He watched the play of her fingers against Elmo's ears.

She shrugged. ‘I'm sorry too. I should have told you. I kind of wanted to start off with a clean slate.'

‘Understandable.' Did this explain her lack of reaction towards him, or was he just not her type anyway?

‘Can I just say something? I don't want you to start being nice to me now.'

‘You don't want me to start? Does that mean I've
never
been nice to you?'

Ellie glanced at her empty plate and smiled briefly. ‘You know what I mean. I'd just like everything to carry on like before.'

‘OK.' More than anything, Zack hoped everything
wouldn't
always carry on like before. At some stage in their future, please God, their situation would change. Because now, knowing what he did about her history, he was daring to allow himself the first faint flicker of hope.

It was still a shame, though, about Todd.

‘So, does this father-in-law approve of this new chap of yours?'

Say no, say no.

‘Tony? Oh, he's delighted. You'd think he'd planned it himself. He couldn't be happier.' Ellie's eyes were shining.

‘Right. Excellent.' Zack nodded as if he was delighted too.

Damn.

‘Look, you need to get to your meeting.' Bringing the subject to a close, Ellie said, ‘But about next Wednesday, I could ask Roo if she's free to come with you to the Dorchester. Would that help you out?'

The mad friend with the risqué past and outrageous taste in T-shirts?

‘I don't think so,' Zack said firmly. ‘But thanks.'

***

Phew. Well, that was that cat out of the bag. When Zack had left the office, Ellie heaved a sigh of relief. She hadn't planned for it to happen, but now that it had, she was glad. Hopefully, she and Zack had evolved a strong enough working relationship by this stage that his discovering the truth about her past wouldn't alter the way he treated her. Plus, two other good things had happened. She hadn't cried, which was a definite step forward.

And she'd described Todd as her boyfriend. This had been a bit of an experiment, saying it out loud, feeling how the word felt on her tongue. And it had felt, frankly, weird. But it was bound to, the first time. Call it a practice run for next week, when she would be meeting so many of Todd's relatives. After being introduced as his girlfriend and casually dropping the b-word into conversation, it would—hopefully—start to sound normal and no longer as weird as, say,
banana
.

‘As I was saying the other day to my banana…'

‘Oh, I know, my banana's mad about rugby too…'

‘My banana and I
loved
that film…'

‘Oh yes, I bought my banana a new shirt on Saturday…'

Anyway, the point was, she'd get used to saying boyfriend soon. Stop thinking about it.

Shame about the timing, though. A night out at the Dorchester with Zack would have been fun. Still, it couldn't be helped.

The birthday barbecue would be good too.

Abruptly Ellie's eyes stung and she blinked back tears. Sometimes it still happened without warning.

Don't cry, don't cry.

Oh, Jamie, where are you? Are you still there? Am I doing OK?