Chapter 5
Nora
I’m bursting to talk to Elle.
I can’t conceive of going through this ridiculous charade with Theo ‘Romeo’ Montague without confiding in her. She’ll know what I should do.
She’ll tell me if she thinks I’m crazy.
I get my chance the evening before my and Theo’s first outing as a ‘couple’ (oh, dear God.
Just thinking that makes me nauseous). Tomorrow we’re all due for a family lunch at his mum and dad’s place around the corner in Holland Park.
Apparently, his parents want Elle to meet Saoirse, but I suspect they also want to get their hands on Elle’s boyfriend, Josh. I mean, who wouldn’t?
Elle and Josh have caused quite the stir in the media since they got back together properly on The Gordon Kay Show a couple of weeks ago.
I suppose it’s a good thing they’re up in Elstree shooting during the week.
From what she says, it’s quite the little bubble they have up there, between the studio and the hotel.
Still, things are full on for her. She had a premiere last weekend, and a couple of weeks previously, she was in hospital with a nasty flare up. Elle has Crohn’s disease, a fact she kept from Josh until she was hospitalised, so now he knows he’s gone full-on Matron on her.
I have to say, it’s sweet. I had major misgivings about that guy—he behaved so badly to Elle in the past—but knowing how he was with her when she was ill, hearing him spill his guts on Gordon Kay and seeing how devoted he’s been since then has all helped calm my fears.
He’s a good boy. Good enough for Elle, even.
Today, Elle took Josh along to a #Crohn’sWarrior event for women that she and I organised super quickly.
She went public with her illness on Gordon Kay, and while I know exactly why she’s kept that part of herself private all these years, it’s been amazing to see the outpouring of support and gratitude around the world.
The Crohns and colitis community now has a fierce new warrior in their corner.
Great as these events are, they take it out of her, especially on top of a crazy shooting schedule during the week.
Matron, AKA Josh, has ordered her to rest while he works out in Elle’s basement gym, so Elle and I are camped in her bed with camomile tea and her gorgeous little dachshund, Olive (blonde, long-haired, miniature.
And I’m Mummy to her Monday to Friday when Elle’s shooting). It’s rock and roll over here.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I fluff up my pillow, trying not to think about the fact that I’m sitting right in the spot where GQ magazine’s Man of the Year sleeps. ‘So, I imagine Mr Lander got a warm welcome from the ladies today?’
Elle snorts, but her expression is dreamy. ‘You could say that. I may as well not have been there.’
‘Oh, come on. I’m sure they were all over you.’
‘Not so much. He was so amazing, Nor. He had time for everyone—he really, really listened to their stories and asked them lots of questions. And then he made this impromptu toast to me and all the attendees, told us we were braver than he could ever be, and that having a Crohn’s diagnosis, or even a stoma, should never make them feel less than.
He said something like, “I look around this room, and all I see is beauty and strength. And it takes my breath away”. ’
I press my hand to my heart. ‘Holy shit.’
‘I know. There was not an unaffected ovary in the room, let me tell you. He’s so getting it tonight. Even though I’m knackered.’
My beautiful friend wipes her eyes and I marvel at the length of her journey, the extent of her grace, and the joy I feel at her happy ending.
‘Did a lot of them have stomas, then?’
‘Yeah. Around seventy percent, probably.’
‘Jesus.’
I rub Olive’s soft tummy and we’re both quiet for a moment. I know this is the axe that hangs over Elle’s head constantly. That one day she’ll lose her bowel and have to poo in a stoma, which is a type of colostomy bag, for the rest of her life.
Thank God she has Josh in her corner now. Someone who’ll love her no matter what, and someone who’ll make sure she’s taking care of herself. Not spreading herself too thin.
Now might be a good time to change the subject. To cheer her up at my expense. I clear my throat.
‘So I have to fill you in on the engagement party.’
‘Yesss.’ She hugs her mug and twists to face me. ‘Give me all the dirt.’
‘Well, I saw Jonathan. And he introduced me to Lucy.’
‘Ohmygod! You poor thing—how was it? And what’s she like?’
I get her up to speed on the awkward introduction and on the girl’s ridiculous boob situation. Elle, who’s a cup size bigger than me but still miles off having a Lucy-level rack, laughs hysterically.
‘Your cousin said Jonathan’s only with her for the tit wanks.’ I shudder a little. It’s such a crass expression.
Her eyes widen. ‘Miles said that?’
‘No.’ I pause. ‘Theo.’
Elle’s expressive face lights up with a mischievous grin. ‘You were chatting to Theo? How was that?’
‘He kind of consoled me at the bar. He was quite sweet, actually. And it was weird. When Jonathan and Lucy were approaching us, Theo started, like, caressing my shoulder. In a super sexy way. And Jonathan looked like he was going to punch him. Theo said he thought that if I could make Jonathan jealous enough, I could get him back.’
Elle’s eyes are saucers. She sticks up her hand. ‘Wait. You let Theo grope you? And you thought it was sexy?’
‘Well, I didn’t let him. He took the initiative. There wasn’t much I could do about it. And I didn’t say I found it sexy. I meant it would have come across as sexy to an observer. Like Jonathan.’
‘Right.’ Elle presses her lips together to avoid grinning. ‘Of course you did.’
‘Anyway. It seems I’ve made a pact with the devil. Your cousin, that is. He can be quite persuasive.’
‘He certainly can. What kind of pact?’
I hesitate. ‘The kind of pact where we… hang out together and he helps me make Jonathan jealous while I help him persuade his family that if he’s serious and responsible enough to have a girlfriend like me, he’s serious and responsible enough to go manage their Manhattan portfolio.’
Elle’s face is a picture. ‘Shut up. You are shitting me. Like a fake dating pact?’
I roll my eyes. ‘You read too many romances.’
‘No more than you. And fake dating is my favourite trope of all time. Like, seriously.’
‘Er, I think the evidence suggests “dirty dukes” as being your favourite trope. Or second chance romance.’
‘Yes! Second chance romance! Especially with Josh. You’re so right. And no woman is immune to the charms of a dirty duke. Especially when he’s Josh… but fake dating is so tropey! I love it!’
Bless Elle’s romantic heart. I watched Josh Lander dash her romantic tendencies five years ago, and I was worried it was for good. But she’s found the courage to open her heart to him again, and she’s radiant. And I’m so pleased for her. For them.
‘So, obviously you guys are going to be forced into all sorts of public clinches and then you’ll both realise, long after everyone else does, that it was real all along.’ She hugs herself.
‘For fuck’s sake, Elle. Get it together. Have you met your cousin? He’s a bloody nightmare. He had a threesome on TV, for Christ’s sake! And my type is Jonathan. Soft. Steady. Safe. They’re chalk and cheese, okay?’
She deflates so much that I almost feel bad. ‘Yeah. You’re right. I got carried away there for a minute. You deserve much better than my cousin.’
‘Thank you. Eyes on the prize, please.’
‘Eyes on the prize,’ she repeats meekly. ‘But what’s Theo’s gig—why does he need your help?’
I smirk. ‘Seems like the lovely Trixie and Dixie weren’t exactly conducive to persuading his family he’s developed the required levels of maturity and judgement for them to trust him with some real responsibility.
And he’s desperate for a shot in Manhattan.
Enter moi, to persuade them he’s growing up. ’
‘Can you imagine Theo in New York, though? His success rate with women would go through the roof. Off a high base.’
‘Seriously.’ My mind offers up a crystal-clear visual on Theo charming the literal pants off the socialites of the Upper East Side with his British breeding and cut-glass accent, and I shudder a little.
‘But by then I’ll be back with Jonathan, and babysitting your delightful cousin will no longer be my problem. ’
‘So tomorrow…’
‘…is the first test. Persuade your aunt and uncle, and Miles, that Theo’s turning over a new leaf. That I can tame him.’
Elle snorts. ‘If they think you can do that, they’ll probably offer you a retainer. I absolutely cannot wait to see this with my own eyes. Lunch is looking up.’
I’m a little nervous about it, actually.
Not of messing up—I’m confident I can deliver the goods in front of Theo’s family—but of being, well, intimate with Theo.
Being touchy-feely. It’ll feel so weird.
Almost like I’m cheating on Jonathan. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but still. I’m apprehensive.
My moment with Elle is interrupted by Josh appearing in the doorway in a tank and jogging bottoms, those world-famous biceps slick with sweat. He leans against the doorframe and grins at us.
‘Sorry to interrupt, ladies. Baby, do you have the energy for a shower? There’s a spot on my back I don’t think I can reach.’
His smile tells me there’s not a jot wrong with his range of motion.
Elle practically vaults off the bed. ‘I consider myself quite revived, Your Grace.’
Ew.
I’ll leave them to it, then. I grab Olive and mutter into her fur as we beat a hasty retreat. ‘Come on, darling. Let’s leave the sex fiends alone.’