Chapter 20
20
OLLIE
It was rich that Sienna had been the one giving the ultimatums. You couldn’t knock that level of confidence. Or arrogance.
‘Last chance, Ollie. Forget your precious Kara and come back to LA tonight or we’re done.’
‘Really?’ He’d reacted with a sad smile and shake of the head, before delivering the answer in a quiet, resigned tone. ‘You know I don’t respond to ultimatums, Sienna.’ Even after the whole debacle with Van Weeks, the viral humiliation and betrayal, he still didn’t know for absolute certain what his answer would be until it came out of his mouth. ‘I’m not coming back.’
There had been no point raging. Or getting angry. Or making this any worse than it already was by treating the other one with contempt.
‘Then it’s over. Go fuck yourself, Ollie.’
Apparently, she hadn’t got the ‘no contempt’ memo.
After she’d hung up on him, he’d sat in the car for a few minutes, debating his options. He could let her cool down and then call her back and discuss this like two calm adults. Although, given her reactions so far today, he wasn’t confident about the ‘calm’ bit. Nevertheless, he could give that a try. Or he could walk away and accept what he’d known deep in his soul for months now. It was over. It had been amazing, and he’d never regret it, but it was done. And even if either of them wanted to, there was no point in going to couples therapy, or trial separations, or any other half-assed attempt to get them back on track. Whether today was the first time or not, Sienna was already onto the next thing. She’d checked out. Time for him to do the same.
He’d sat with that for a few minutes, waiting for some kind of internal reaction, an objection to rise from inside his soul, but it hadn’t come. All he’d realised was that he wanted to be anywhere but sitting in a car, at Glasgow Airport in the fog and the snow, so he’d restarted the vehicle and now, a few minutes later, he was steering it into the rental return site. He parked it up, pulled his beanie back on, added the specs and then went inside to drop off the keys.
‘Thanks, pal. Any problems or damage?’ the gent behind the desk asked, without looking away from his screen.
Ollie put the keys on the counter. ‘Nothing. It was all good. I didn’t get a chance to fill it up though, so just add the charge to my credit card.’
The bloke was typing something on his keyboard, paying Ollie no attention at all, and that was just the way he liked it. ‘Will do. We’ll check it over and your deposit will be returned to your credit card in the next three to five business days, Mr… Mr…’ He was peering closer at the screen now, reading what was there, and if this was a cartoon, a lightbulb would have started flashing above his head.
‘Oliver Chiles?’ For the first time he raised his gaze to Ollie’s face. ‘Bloody hell, it’s yourself! My missus loves that show you’re in. I mean, not that I watch it because it’s all that historical pish – I prefer a bit of footie or a good murder – but she’ll never believe this when I tell her. Can we get a selfie? Hang on, where’s my phone?’
He patted the top of piles of paper on his desk until he located it, then he came round to Ollie’s side of the desk, put his arm around Ollie’s shoulders, went for his very best grin and snapped.
‘Got it. My Margaret will be gobsmacked, so she will. Hey, Harry…’ he yelled, in the direction of the door behind the desk. ‘Can you come man the shop for five minutes? I’m just going to give my pal, Ollie, here a lift over to the terminal building.’
‘Oh no, that’s okay…’ Ollie began to object.
‘Nonsense. We canny have you getting the shuttlebus. My Margaret would never forgive me.’
An older gent emerged from whatever was behind the door and gave Ollie a disinterested nod.
‘Harry, it’s Ollie Chiles!’ his new best friend said.
Nope, Harry still had no clue. ‘You play football, son?’ Harry asked Ollie, in that very Glasgow way of assuming everything revolved around football.
‘Only in the garden,’ Ollie told him, before his newly appointed chauffeur interjected with, ‘He’s an actor! He’s in that show… Ach, never mind.’ He picked a set of keys off a hook on the wall behind him. ‘Right then, let’s go, Ollie.’
Five minutes, a couple of skids in the snow, two more selfies, an autograph, a vigorous handshake and slap on the back later, Ollie got dropped at the terminal building. Inside, it was the busiest he’d ever seen it, so he put his head down, made eye contact with no one and made his way to the check-in queue to drop off his suitcase.
He’d done so many miles over the last few years that he’d made it to the top of the airline loyalty scheme tiers, giving him access to the much shorter priority line. He kept the same posture as he shuffled forward a few feet at a time, using the pretext of being on his phone. To his relief, no one appeared to recognise him and if they did, they didn’t say anything. Since the whole fame thing had happened, people were mostly great, especially in his home city, but he couldn’t face the ‘It’s you!’ conversations today, especially with his wife currently trending on both X and TikTok. #sloppySienna.
‘I’m afraid your flight is delayed for two hours at the moment,’ said the lovely lady behind the desk.
‘More time for beer and tequila,’ he quipped, then he heard his publicist in his head reminding him comments like that were off limits. If there was a pap or a press mole anywhere nearby, he’d soon know about it because, based on that comment alone, there would be headlines for the next two weeks, talking about how he was devastated about his wife’s antics and using alcohol to numb the pain. Or how he couldn’t get through the day without a drink and was on his way to rehab. He’d once visited a drug treatment clinic as research for a role and, by the following day, several press outlets had reported he’d checked into rehab for his addictions to both drugs and sex. Ironic, given that he was the married bloke, who didn’t sleep around, and the only drugs he did were Rennies for the occasional heartburn.
As soon as his case whisked off on the conveyor belt, he made his way upstairs, still head down. He always paid extra for Priority Security, avoiding the general security line that he’d noticed snaked back almost to the entrance barriers. He briefly wondered if Drea and Kara were stuck in that, but he didn’t want to put his head above the parapet to search for them. Hopefully they were already through and waiting in the lounge.
A few of the security officers were familiar to him, because he’d been travelling in and out of Glasgow for years, so he made a point of saying hello. Not that it got him off trashing the bottle of water he’d mistakenly left in his backpack, and nor did it get him any favours, like being able to leave his boots on when going through the scanner. Apparently fame only got him perks in LA and the car rental return office here.
Reunited with his boots and backpack, he made his way straight to the BA lounge and had a look around for Kara and Drea, but they weren’t there yet. He grabbed a can of Budweiser from the beer fridge and settled in the furthest corner from the door, his back to the world, so that no one would give him a second glance. One of his favourite memories was of coming to the airport when he was twenty and going to LA for the first time. Kara had come to see him off, and they were just skint hopefuls who couldn’t ever have grasped what was to come. He’d got the dream… he just hadn’t realised it would come with shadows in the corners.
He pulled out his phone and hit the #sloppysienna hashtag, only to discover that #OllieCallMe and #CryOnMyShoulderOllie were trending too. He could already gauge Sienna’s reaction to that development, and it wouldn’t be pretty. What a shitshow this day had turned out to be. This morning he’d climbed out of the shower, pretty chilled and happy, and now…
His phone burst to life in his hands and he answered it straight away to hear Calvin’s melodic tones. ‘Well, hello! Apparently #OllieCallMe is trending, so I thought I’d save you the bother and get in there first, just in case you suddenly realise I’m the man of your dreams.’
‘Appreciate that,’ Ollie replied, laughing. ‘And if there was going to be a man of my dreams, it would be you, my friend.’
It was all in jest – Calvin and his husband, Pierre, had been married for years and they were devoted to each other.
Calvin’s laugh was infectious. ‘My ego thanks you. But enough about me… I’m just calling to check in. How are you doing, what’s the latest on everything that kicked off this morning, and is there anything I can do to help?’
Making sure no one was in earshot, Ollie filled him in on his conversation with Sienna, rounding off with, ‘Feels weird saying it out loud, but I guess that’s it. And what’s even weirder is that it honestly feels like it’s the right thing to do. I don’t think we’ve made each other happy in a long time.’
‘Maybe that’s what you need to think about going forward then – do the things that make you happy, Ollie, because otherwise what’s the point? Listen, no pressure, and I know that today isn’t the day, but at some point, come back to me on the theatre school. I’m going to make a decision on whether to go ahead with it in the next few days. No pressure though. If being part of it isn’t for you, I’ll completely understand.’
With everything that had happened in the last few hours, that had slipped down the list of things that were taking up headspace. Sienna no longer being part of his consultation process was a plus – but if he was going to have to reshape his life post-marriage, did he really want a commitment this big and to have more people depending on him? He needed to think it all through.
He nodded, even though Calvin couldn’t see him. ‘Yeah, I will do, pal. Let’s catch up again later in the week. And, Calvin, sorry to drag you into my mess this morning.’
‘Any time. Mess is my specialty.’ Ollie knew he wasn’t joking. Over the years, Calvin had managed some of the most notoriously difficult talent in the business. His client, Odette Devine, was a legend and a brilliant actress, but it was well known in the industry that she could give J.Lo a run in the diva stakes, yet Calvin had been her manager forever. ‘And like I said, if you suddenly realise you’re besotted with me, call me. You’re my celebrity hall pass, so you won’t be wrecking a home.’
That made Ollie laugh. ‘Good to know.’
He said goodbye and put his phone back in his jacket pocket. He rarely left it on a table in public just in case anyone managed to swipe it.
Picking up his beer, he took a sip, thinking about what Calvin had said about focusing on things that made him happy. Now that his life had blown up in his face, he was going to have to rethink what that was.
He got up to go for another beer, but as soon as he turned, he spotted a couple of new arrivals entering the lounge.
One of the things that made him happy had just walked in the door.
He rose his hand and waved to Kara and Drea.