Chapter 5 #2
Our tense conversations screeched to a halt, as Evan’s breakfast and coffee arrived at the table.
As soon as the woman disappeared, Evan picked up his knife and fork.
‘Look, if it’s any consolation, I watched Sinister, and I thought you were great.
In fact, I thought you were the best thing about it. ’
My fork stilled half way to my mouth.
‘I wouldn’t have recognised you, though, if you hadn’t explained who you were. I think it was the platinum blonde bobbed wig you wore for the role.’
‘Thank you,’ I managed, surprised.
Evan sliced into his bacon. ‘And I just want to apologise on behalf of those journalists who don’t take their jobs seriously enough. It shouldn’t be about hurting people or making them feel less than they are.’
I took a sip of my tea, studying him across the rim.
‘I think you’re right. It’s just, you have no idea what it’s like to put all your energy into something and then find it’s been trashed.
’ I lowered my cup and held it in my hands.
‘When I heard I’d got that role in Sinister, I couldn’t take it in.
I was beyond thrilled. All the hard work and trailing around auditions, to finally secure a spot in a new TV drama like that.
’ I set my cup down on its saucer with a decisive rattle.
‘And now, the names of the cast are being treated like a bad smell.’
We spent the next few minutes eating in comparative silence. All around us, there was the clink of teacups. Some gentle violin music wafted from the speakers.
‘What sort of journalist are you? I mean, what do you write?’ I asked, finishing off my scrambled egg.
‘I’m a freelancer. I tend to write topical news features.
Anything from pieces about dating apps and romance scammers to the increasing popularity of women’s football and how politicians use social media.
’ Evan took a mouthful of coffee. ‘I’m lucky.
I know a lot of editors, so I tend to have a good in when it comes to having my pitches accepted. ’
I drained the remainder of my tea and pushed my almost-finished breakfast plate away. ‘And would you ever be tempted to follow in the likes of Fox’s footsteps? Become a critic, in the loosest sense of the word?’
‘Never say never…’ Evan began.
Of course. Why did I ever think otherwise?
Any glimmer that this man was different to the bombastic idiot at the lunch yesterday withered inside me.
I might have guessed as much. I shot up from my chair.
Birds of a feather flock together, echoed the voice of my late grandmother.
She always used to say that. Looked like she was right.
‘I’ll see you outside in half an hour. I want to leave here no later than quarter past nine. Please don’t be late.’
And with that, I stalked off to check out and ring Grandpa to give him my estimated time of arrival.
* * *
Marlene was packed up. Evan and I had both checked out of the bed and breakfast, and he was now back in the passenger side.
Sunday morning sunshine, like patches of soft, golden marmalade, pooled on the tree tops. It bathed the stirring Ambleside and brought out the keen ramblers and water sports enthusiasts.
A nearby stream slid over the rocks in a twinkly silver ribbon as we prepared to drive off.
I’d rung my grandpa and told him that he could expect me in around five hours. He was delighted, saying he’d have the kettle on and couldn’t wait to hear about London and my next acting roles. My stomach had dropped when he’d said that, and I’d changed the subject.
I’d also told him that I was dropping someone off in Forrest Bank on the way back to Strath Ross. As soon as I’d said it was a male passenger, my grandpa had asked, ‘Och, handsome, is he?’
I’d gripped my mobile tighter to my ear back in the guest room. ‘No. Ok, yes, well, I suppose he is, but he’s not my type.’
My grandfather had then proceeded to ask me his name and occupation and what his prospects were. I think he was trying to suss out if he was good breeding stock. ‘Nothing like that, Gramps. Just a favour, that’s all. He couldn’t fly up to Scotland because of all the technical problems.’
My grandpa’s voice brightened even further. ‘Scottish, is he?’
‘Yes, he’s actually from Forrest Bank, but he’s spent a lot of time in London.’
‘Och, never mind. You can’t have everything.’
I’d laughed, but my heart had shrivelled in my chest when he’d repeated that he was desperate to get an update on my acting career. I was dreading telling him.
I resolved to reassure him though. I’d just talk around it; say there were a few possibilities in the pipeline. Hopefully, if I sounded convincing enough, he wouldn’t fret.
As I drove along, I allowed myself a brief glance over at Evan. Then I wished I hadn’t.
He was looking across at me at the same time.
I almost gave myself whiplash and drilled my attention back on the road.
‘Daisy?’ His voice washed over me. I could feel the sun kissing the tops of my shoulders through my T-shirt. ‘You ok?’
‘Yes. Fine, thanks.’
Evan brandished his mobile phone in his hand. ‘Just saw the headlines. Seems the airports are back in business, but it’s going to take a good few days to get everything sorted out.’
We drew up to a set of traffic lights.
‘Thank you again for giving me a lift. Really.’ His voice softened. ‘I do appreciate it.’
I turned to look at him. He pulled a pair of aviator sunglasses from his T-shirt pocket and slipped them on. They suited him.
I snapped my face away and waited for the lights to turn to green. ‘You’re welcome.’ Oh, please don’t start being nice to me. I felt all tangled up and despondent inside, and the last thing I needed was empathy.
Now it was my turn to hesitate. There was the sense of a truce unfurling between us.
Less of an awkward tension and more of an acceptance.
It caught me off guard. I cleared my throat.
‘And I should thank you again, too. For stopping me from throwing that champagne over Fox.’ The light shifted to green, and I moved off.
‘I know you did the right thing. I would’ve looked like such an idiot in front of all of those people, not to mention losing my job when I really needed it. It’s just…’
Evan stretched his legs. ‘I get it. I do.’ A small smile tugged at his mouth.
‘I agree with you, if that helps. That guy deserved a headful of champers and then some.’ He rubbed at his chin, his eyes concealed behind his smoky sunglasses.
‘He was asking for it.’ Now it was his turn to pause.
‘But you’re the better person. Know that, Daisy. Please.’
My cheekbones glowed. ‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’
A flicker of a smile crossed my mouth. Wow. What was happening here? Had we reached some sort of understanding after all?
‘Just try not to pick up any more stray passengers on the way please, will you?’ he joked. His mouth hinted at a smile, as he shook his head at me in mock disbelief.
‘Well, I picked you up,’ I replied back.
‘I’m glad you did.’
There it was again; something zinging between us.
I concentrated on the traffic up ahead. ‘Scotland, here we come.’