Chapter 9 #3
‘Come on,’ she says. ‘I want details.’
‘Well,’ I say. ‘The work is fun. Avi and I are doing well, I think – though we did have a bit of a nightmare on-set yesterday.’
‘What happened?’ she asks. I tell her about the light fitting.
‘Oh, my God,’ she says. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah. A few bruises, but otherwise fine.’
‘Swoon that he saved you,’ she says, moving swiftly on from the near-death experience, and my heart thumps a little. ‘Is he as hot in person as he looks in photos?’
‘Al—’
‘Come on, Lara,’ she says. ‘Give me something, at least. I need some gossip for my colleagues. They’re already finding it hard to believe I’m telling the truth about your job. I showed them the announcement and everything.’
‘Fine.’ I breathe out. ‘Yes, he is good-looking. But I already knew that.’
‘Did you ever fancy him when you worked together?’
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘End of conversation. He’s my colleague, Al.’
‘You are so boring,’ she complains. ‘But fine. Can you tell me about any cool perks yet, at least? Will you be doing any red carpets anytime soon?’
‘Mm,’ I say.
‘What does that mean? Mm?’
I sigh. ‘It means Alessandro has asked me to go to the Olivier Awards with Avi next week. But I’m feeling a little weird about going, honestly.
’ Since this morning, I’ve been turning over my answer to Avi’s proposal in my mind, wondering if I answered too quickly.
If I made the right decision. I’m still not sure if it’ll be the positive move I think it will.
‘Oh come on, Lara—’
‘See, this is why I never want to tell you anything—’ but she’s already off.
‘You have to fucking go, Lara. If you want to stay at home with your scripts on a normal day, ignoring the rest of the world, I can’t stop you.
But there’s a difference between reclusive and stupid.
And this is stupid. You wanted this career – you went after it, at the cost of literally everything else.
If you don’t go to events like this, then you’re just getting in your own way. ’
Something pinches in my chest. Because I’m nervous – that I’m going to mess up, if I go. It’s a scary, new environment. All of this is. And, as usual, she’s not listening.
‘You don’t understand,’ I say, feeling suddenly emotional.
‘This stuff comes easily to you…’ She doesn’t know that staying at home started out as a survival tactic, that my relentless pursuit of this career might seem weird, but it’s the only thing that makes me feel normal.
Doesn’t know what it’s like to stand in a room of people, not having any idea what to say.
To go from school to school knowing there’s no way you’re going to make any friends, so you may as well stop trying.
Coming home to a household full of anxiety, and not being able to stop yourself from absorbing it.
Alison was always impervious to that stuff – I never was.
Acting was the only thing I could do to escape it all.
‘It might come easily to you too,’ she says. ‘If you actually tried.’
This hits me like a punch in the gut. ‘I do try,’ I say, but even as I say them I can hear that the words ring hollow.
‘Do you?’ she asks, her tone searching. I don’t answer – I’m still wrapping my head around the turn this conversation has taken.
Regretting saying anything to her in the first place.
‘You never hung out with any of your flatmates. You say no to literally every event I invite you to. You’ve kept your life so small, Lara.
And it could be so much bigger, if you let it. ’
I did let it, I think. When I worked in the pub with Avi. When I was around him, everything made sense. I felt funnier, more interesting. Like something about him brought out everything I was never able to express unless I was on a stage.
And, in the end, it didn’t get me anywhere. And I realised what I’ve known the whole time. That this – my career – is the only thing I’ve ever been able to rely on.
‘Look,’ she says, her tone softening slightly. ‘All I’m saying is that getting out of your comfort zone isn’t always a bad thing. You never know what might happen.’
‘I have to go,’ I say. I can’t face hearing anything else from her.
‘Lara,’ she says.
‘It’s fine, Ally,’ I say. ‘I’ll talk to you soon, okay?’
I hang up and put the phone down. My eyes landing on the book Spencer and Hannah got me, sitting across the room.
‘We wanted you to have something to remember us by.’ Spencer’s words appear in my mind.
This is everything my life has been so far.
Moving on from one role to the next. One job to the next.
One flat to the next. Picking up mementoes, but not people.
Never stopping for too long. Never putting down roots, anywhere.
Because I assumed I couldn’t. And I’m still not sure that I can, or want to.
I like my life small. It’s safe, and manageable.
But some of Alison’s words stand out to me: you’re just getting in your own way. Because there’s some truth in them. As much as I hate to admit it. Because if my career is the only thing I can rely on – and attending this event is going to help it – then I need to go.