Chapter 23 Cynthie
As the credits roll across the screen I realize that my face is wet. I don’t know how long I’ve been crying, but it could have been since the opening shot and I wouldn’t have noticed.
I can’t believe this exists. I can’t believe there’s a film, a real, beautiful film with me in it.
My name is there. My name is right there .
And I was… good. I think. I mean, obviously it’s impossible to watch yourself on-screen in an objective way, but I didn’t actively embarrass myself, and that, in itself, feels like a win.
“Oh my god, Cyn…” Hannah whispers from beside me, her own voice thick with tears. On the armrest of the chair in the screening room, our hands are clasped tightly together. “You were wonderful,” she finishes on a watery gasp.
Somewhere in the darkness, in this tiny, fancy cinema, I know Jack is watching the screen as well.
I haven’t seen him for months, and I wonder what he’s thinking, what he feels right now, watching the two of us fall in love so convincingly.
And it was convincing—there’s no denying it: the chemistry between Jack and me on camera is ridiculous.
The scene where we kissed in the rain is beautiful—and extremely sexy—and elicited actual gasps and cheers from our small audience.
Despite their differences, somehow Jasmine and Logan have found a delicate balance between Jasmine’s thoughtful introspection and Logan’s dynamic sense of action.
It’s so surreal, so uncanny to watch the work we’d done be transformed into something that really looks like a proper film.
The first time I heard the score kick in behind the action I almost lost my mind.
There was music playing while I spoke, and it was beautiful and it had been written for this exact moment!
There were scenes where it looked like I actually knew how to ride a horse!
There were rooms that looked like they were from the 1800s, but that I know were actually filmed in a studio in Shepperton!
Every frame was like a surprise, even though—as I had to keep reminding myself—it was me on-screen; I had actually been there.
“Well, that was a fucking triumph,” Gayle says loudly now, from where she sits on the other side of me as excited chatter breaks out in the room. I still can’t believe she’s made the effort to come in person. It’s the first time I haven’t dealt with one of her associates.
“Darling, you’re going to be so big, it’s embarrassing.” She sounds genuinely delighted.
“Um, thanks,” I reply.
“Jasmine was right to make sure I came today. We’re going to need to be very savvy about how we handle this,” she says, sitting back in her seat and steepling her fingers like a Bond villain, eyelids heavy, her expression one of calculation.
“I think it’s going to be best for you to come out to LA sooner rather than later.
We have a few meetings to take anyway, and I know you’ve been raring to go, but as I suspected, the buzz around this is going to make it worth being picky about what you do next. ”
My wide eyes move to meet Hannah’s. We’ve been talking about going out to California in a vague way, but it has felt very abstract, like talking about how nice it would be to visit Paris one day, or travel in a hot-air balloon.
Yes, we had spent four weeks shooting on location, and three more in a studio in London, working painfully long days and living and breathing the script, but this was followed by six long months twiddling my thumbs at home, so it was easy to feel like the idea of a career in acting was a bizarre delusion.
In fact, if it wasn’t for Gayle’s assistant sending me a couple of scripts to look at for my “next project,” I would be fully convinced that I was lying in a coma somewhere, experiencing extremely lucid dreams caused by a traumatic brain injury.
Hannah and I had waded deep into the philosophical weeds one day, when I asked if she could prove that she was a real person and not simply part of my dream world.
She solved this problem by sitting on me and pinching the skin on my arms sharply between her fingernails in a method of torture she described as “Smurf bites.” Between the pain and the bizarre nature of this interaction, I was convinced, forced to admit, that my brain didn’t have the necessary creativity to come up with whatever it was she was doing.
“Okay, everyone.” My thoughts are interrupted by Logan’s voice, as he and Jasmine move to stand in front of the screen and the lights come up.
Immediately, my attention is focused on the back of Jack’s head.
He’s sitting on his own several rows in front of me and he doesn’t turn around.
My pulse goes into overdrive. If I really were in a coma then the machines would all be beeping like mad.
I can practically hear the handsome but overworked doctor shouting, “She’s crashing! She’s crashing!”
“We hope you all enjoyed this screening of A Lady of Quality ,” Logan continues, but he’s interrupted by a raucous commotion of clapping and cheering. Gayle sticks her fingers in her mouth and lets out a shrill whistle.
Logan looks dazed but pleased, and beside him Jasmine is so close to actually smiling that I think it might be hurting her facial muscles.
“We’re really proud of this thing we all made together,” he says, after we calm down.
“And none of it would have been possible without the incredible team I see in front of me. Jas and I just want to say thank you to every single one of you, and in that spirit, if everyone would like to head out to the room next door, we have champagne and refreshments waiting, because I think we can all agree that we should be celebrating.” There are more cheers at this, then Logan’s eyes scan the room before landing on me.
“But can I ask Cynthie and Jack to stay behind for a moment? Thanks all!”
“Ooooh, someone is in trouble!” Rufus’s voice calls jovially as the others start filing out of the room. I look to Gayle, experiencing a flutter of panic.
“I’m sure it’s just a pep talk before you begin promotion,” she says, “but I can stay if you need me?”
“No, no.” I shake my head. “You go and grab a glass of champagne. I’ll join you as soon as they’re finished with me.”
While everyone else leaves, I try to take a few deep, soothing breaths.
Jack and I haven’t interacted at all for months, though as I told Hannah, this is hardly surprising: we didn’t exactly exchange contact details and promise to become pen pals when shooting ended.
After “the incident in the kitchen” (this is how I refer to it in my own mind, refusing to give it any other name), Jack and I resumed our attitude of animosity toward each other, albeit with fewer high jinks.
The prank war was officially over and in its place was an icy professionalism that had everyone scratching their heads.
I haven’t even talked to Hannah about what happened, and I’m sure Jack hasn’t told anyone either.
I hate sharing this secret with him; it feels like one more intimate way that we are tangled up together.
Like the fact that I know how his skin tastes, or the sounds he makes when he’s turned on.
Like the fact that even though I hate him, I still want him.
I thought six months apart would be enough to put everything behind us, but clearly that was wishful thinking.
Now, when his eyes finally meet mine, it’s like being struck by lightning.
Neither of us says a word but I drink in the sight of him, my blood buzzing as I take in every tiny change in his appearance.
His hair is a little shorter. He looks tired.
His mouth is pressed in a hard, firm line. He’s still gorgeous.
Logan and Jasmine hover near the front of the screening room with a polished-looking woman in dangerously high heels who they introduce as Lorna, the head of publicity for the film.
Lorna gestures to two seats in the front row, and Jack and I sit down, carefully leaning away from one another.
“Thanks for staying behind.” Lorna smiles, wide and winning. Her accent is American, her teeth so white that they hurt my eyes. “The studio sent me to have a somewhat… delicate conversation with the two of you about the next few weeks.”
“Delicate?” Jack says with a lift of his eyebrows. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak in months, and I wish I didn’t like it so much.
Lorna’s enormous Cheshire cat grin seems to stretch even wider.
“So, naturally, everyone’s very excited about A Lady of Quality , and we really want to make sure that we make the most of our stars, positioning the two of you as fresh, young, new talent.
You’re both gorgeous; you’re crazy good in this film; you’re extremely marketable… ”
So far, so good , I think.
“Jack has the acting family royalty thing going on…” Lorna continues, and if I wasn’t so utterly attuned to every particle of his body, I might have missed his tiny flinch at this.
I try to be pleased about it, but my heart’s not really in it.
I can’t help remembering what he said that night by the bonfire.
Something tells me life as a Turner-Jones child is complicated.
“And Cynthie.” Her enthusiasm ratchets up even higher. “You’re a real Hollywood fairy tale. Plucked from obscurity to land a starring role in your first movie… It’s gold.”
I don’t love being reduced to playing Cinderella, but I can hardly argue.
“Everyone who has seen the film has said the same thing.” Lorna’s tone is earnest. “That the two of you together are absolute dynamite. The reaction at our test screenings has all of us paying attention. Your chemistry is incredible, and we’d love to capitalize on that in our promotion.”
“Capitalize on it how?” I ask with a frown.
Lorna’s smile becomes a little more fixed. “What we were thinking was that we would suggest to some of the press outlets that your on-screen romance has… progressed.”