The Funny Thing About Love

42. Charlie

42

CHARLIE

‘Charlie.’

I groan and flip the pillow. ‘Mmmph?’

‘Mate?’

Merlin’s voice. I hear the creak of my door as he opens it. Even though I’m barely awake, I reach out for Nell. I don’t want her to be woken up by a random bloke in the doorway. Especially when there’s a good chance the random bloke will be carrying a live snake.

‘Wait, Merlin, hang on . . .’

I sit up and blink. The bed is empty. The room is empty. Except for Merlin, who’s hovering on the threshold, snakeless, but looking distinctly Lebowski-esque in his dressing gown. ‘Hey, man,’ he says, chomping on a spoonful of the cereal he’s carrying. ‘You not working today?’

‘Where’s Nell?’ I mumble, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

Merlin wrinkles his brow. ‘Who’s Nell? Wait – is that what you call the ghost that lives in the airing cupboard? Have you seen her too?!’

I run a hand through my hair. I’m really not awake enough for one of Merlin’s lectures about the ‘highly likely scenario’ of the spirit world encroaching on ours. ‘No, Nell is a girl,’ I tell him. ‘A non-ghost girl. She stayed over last night.’

‘Oh.’ Merlin takes another spoonful of cereal and nods. ‘Nice.’

‘So, where is she?’

He looks around. ‘Dunno. Haven’t seen anyone.’

What the hell? I feel a jolt of panic. Last night was amazing. At least, I thought it was. So why would she just disappear, without even saying goodbye? Especially when we’re both supposed to leave together this morning for our interv—

Oh, fuck.

I fumble for my phone on the bedside table. It’s not there.

‘Merlin, what time is it?’

He purses his lips and squints at the sky through the window. ‘I don’t know. If I had to guess, I’d say . . .’

I spot my phone on the floor next to my crumpled jeans. I reach for it. No. No way. That can’t be right.

It’s 8.17 a.m. I’m supposed to be at Pinewood Studios for my interview in thirteen minutes. Pinewood Studios is more than an hour away. Which means . . .

Which means I am absolutely, royally fucked. The cold reality of the situation cuts through me like a knife.

‘I would guess it’s somewhere around high noon,’ Merlin says, still staring out of the window.

I leap out of bed, wriggling into a T-shirt and jeans. ‘Gotta go!’ I yell as I rush past Merlin, who’s still munching his cereal and gazing absently at the sky.

I run into the bathroom, kitchen and living room. No sign of Nell. What the hell’s happened to her? Is she OK? There’s literally no trace that she’s even been here.

We were supposed to get up at the same time – she was supposed to wake me up. We were supposed to leave the house together!

I grab my bag and my keys and tear out of the front door. I don’t even know where I’m going. Bishi said they’d be sending a cab for me at just after seven. I check my phone again as I run and see I have six missed calls from a random number. Great. So the cab has been and gone.

Ridiculously, I still don’t have Nell’s number, so I can’t even call her and find out what’s going on. Something must be really wrong for her to leave like this, surely? After the night we’ve just had . . .

Fuck. I hope she’s OK.

It’s nearly half past nine by the time I get to Pinewood. It’s taken two trains, one bus and a taxi to get here, and as I sprint to the security gate and breathlessly give my name, my phone rings.

I pull it out, praying it might be Nell somehow.

No. Bollocks. Bishi.

‘Charlie? Where are you?’ Her voice is sharp and icy.

‘Hey, Bishi! At Pinewood now – sorry, I overslept so I’m just running a tiny bit late!’ I tear across the concrete towards the soundstage the security guard directed me to.

‘You’re only just arriving now?’ Bishi hisses. ‘You were meant to be there an hour ago! Did the cab not show up?’

‘Erm, I’m not sure, actually . . . I just . . .’ My brain clanks and whirrs as I try to summon any other excuse than ‘I overslept’. I’m even on the cusp of blurting out, ‘Nell was supposed to wake me up!’

‘Charlie?’ Bishi snaps.

‘Yeah, sorry – I’m at the soundstage now! Erm . . . have you heard from Nell?’

‘Yes. She’s just got back to the office. Apparently, the Kay DeBlue interview went down a storm.’

Confusion briefly hobbles me – I actually stop in my tracks.

‘Charlie, what is going on there?!’ Bishi cries. ‘Are you going to make this interview or not? We really need that Max Ribiero piece!’

I start running again. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine, Bishi!’

But at that moment, the doors of the soundstage open and out come Marek and Sam.

‘Charlie.’ Marek frowns. ‘What happened, man? Where were you?’

‘I’m so sorry, guys,’ I gasp. ‘Nightmare journey! But I’m here now – let’s do it!’

Sam shakes his head. ‘We’ve missed it, mate. Max has been called to set. The interview’s not happening.’