13
Nicole
They ran every day at five o’clock in the morning, and as Milly had predicted they saw no one.
The first time they left the boathouse Nicole wore a wig, dark glasses and a hat pulled down over her eyes, but after she almost broke her neck tripping over an exposed root of a tree, she agreed to remove the glasses.
“I will be watching,”
Milly had promised, “and if I see anyone I will warn you, and you can put your glasses on. Although honestly, I think sunglasses make you look more like a movie star. It’s movie-star uniform, isn’t it? Just behave like a normal person.”
“I am a normal person. But everyone forgets that.”
“If anyone should be hiding, it should be me.”
Milly tugged her baggy T-shirt down over her hips. “Workout gear isn’t very forgiving.”
“You look great.”
It shocked Nicole that Milly had so little confidence in herself, and then she realized that in an entirely different way she had no confidence in herself either, so she was hardly in a position to judge.
She couldn’t get Justin’s words out of her head. You’d be a terrible mother.
Not because she thought he was right—talking to Milly about it had made her feel better on that score—but because it was a truly awful thing to say to someone, particularly when that someone was a person you’d professed to love.
Milly scooped her hair into a ponytail. “If I really look great, why are you putting me through this torture?”
“Because it’s not enough to look great. You also have to feel great. And by the time I’ve finished with you, you’re going to be feeling like you’ve never felt before.”
“Like I’m going to die, you mean?”
As predicted, Milly had only managed ten minutes of slow jogging on the first and second days. By day five she was managing fifteen minutes and at the end of the first week she hit twenty minutes, although by the time they completed that last run, she was breathing so hard Nicole was worried she’d have to resuscitate her.
Exercise was something she took for granted as being part of her job. Most days she did it without thinking, but she thought about it now as she constructed a doable workout for her friend.
Nicole taught Milly how to warm up and stretch, and halfway round the lake she found the stump of a tree that was exactly the right height to do step-ups.
“This is perfect. Go for it. Twelve reps, minute off, then another twelve reps.”
“You’re inhuman,”
Milly had panted as Nicole had made her step onto the tree trunk so many times she eventually collapsed onto it for a rest. “Enough.”
“It’s great for your quads.”
“My quads disagree.”
Being outside like this had been terrifying at first, but she discovered that the more she focused on Milly, the less she thought about herself. The exercise was easy for her. She could have run around the lake eight times without having to pause for air, but even though she knew the training schedule she followed probably wasn’t practical for most people, still she was shocked by how generally unfit her friend was. And she was appalled by how little attention Milly paid to herself. Zoe was her first priority, then her mother and Nanna Peg, the business, Richard, and then, if there was any time left, which there never was, herself. She worried constantly about Zoe and claimed that was part of being a mother, and Nicole in turn worried that she simply wouldn’t be good enough and that her baby deserved better.
Fortunately helping Milly took her mind off her own problems.
The forest was their friend, shielding them from prying eyes and offering no end of opportunities for varying the workout. The joy of being outdoors was indescribable, and she appreciated every moment. The scent of the trees, the crunch of leaves and twigs under her feet, the birdsong, a shaft of sunlight breaking through the branches.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Nicole felt free. The early-morning runs gave her a tiny, delicious taste of what life would be like if she was anonymous, and she found herself starving for more of it. To be able to leave the house at any time of day. To be able to step outside her front door without cameras being pointed at her. To walk down a street without being stopped. To be able to sleep at night without worrying about who might be trying to break into her house.
And they were back home every day before Zoe was even awake. That quiet hour where they relaxed in the kitchen or took their coffee onto the deck was fast becoming Nicole’s favorite time of day.
She banned croissants and pancakes and instead encouraged Milly to chop fresh fruit and nuts onto plain yogurt. When her friend tried to sneak in a spoonful of honey, Nicole positioned herself by the cupboard like a sentry.
“You don’t need it.”
“I do need it. Local bees. Organic.”
“It’s still sugar. You don’t need it.”
Milly had sighed and eaten the yogurt without the honey, a martyrish expression on her face.
Nicole ate the same thing, even though it had been at least a decade since she’d eaten breakfast. And it tasted so good. The creaminess of the yogurt and the delicious bite of the nuts. Berries she ate all the time (low in calories), but somehow these berries tasted better.
Everything tasted better. The eggs Milly used to make their omelets on the days they didn’t eat yogurt. The vegetables, many of which were fresh from Connie’s garden.
And that had been a highlight for Nicole. Seeing Connie and Nanna Peg again.
They’d accepted her presence without question, welcoming her as they always had, with warmth and total acceptance. To them she was Milly’s best friend, and the trajectory of her career hadn’t changed that.
“In the end it’s just a job,”
Nanna Peg had said, waving a dismissive hand when Milly had explained that Nicole was taking a break. “Whether you’re a librarian or movie star, when you close your front door, you’re just you.”
If she’d wanted to step out of her life, then this was the place to do it.
Nicole didn’t mention her pregnancy. She wasn’t ready to talk about it. The only person who knew about that was Milly, and she knew Milly would never betray that trust.
Their friendship seemed to have settled back into a comfortable place, but Nicole was constantly aware of the things she hadn’t told Milly, things that could bring their friendship crashing down again. And that knowledge niggled, like a stone in her shoe. She tried to ignore it. She told herself that there was no reason for Milly to find out and no reason to tell her. What good would it do now? They were becoming close again. That was the important thing. There was no rule that said you had to share absolutely everything with another person, was there? Even if that person was your oldest and dearest friend.
She comforted herself that it was all in the past, not even relevant now, and gradually she found herself relaxing.
And relaxing was easier than she would have imagined because she loved it here. There was a sense of being cut off from everything that existed beyond the lake and the trees, and she felt more secure and at ease than she had for a long time.
At first she’d assumed it was the idyllic surroundings that were making her feel better, but then she realized it was being with Milly, who, despite Nicole’s undoubted deficiencies as a friend, bathed her in kindness.
It made her understand how many of her relationships were transactional. Most of her team were there because she paid them. No one was with her because they cared. Not even Justin, as it turned out.
But Milly cared. She had always cared, and the fact that her love for Nicole stretched back way before she was famous to a time when she’d worn braces and cried because her mother hadn’t bothered to show up to watch her in the school play made their relationship all the more special. It was special because it was real, and so little in her life was real.
Nicole spent most of her time pretending to be someone else, but with Milly she didn’t have to pretend.
Her whole world became the boathouse, the lake, the forest, Milly and her family. Everything else had ceased to exist.
When she thought about her old life—and she tried not to—she pushed it aside like crumbs under a rug, hiding it from sight.
“Won’t your agent be wondering where you are?”
Milly asked her one morning after they’d managed to jog for a full thirty minutes. They were two weeks into their running routine, and this time Milly was barely out of breath.
“I told her I needed a break. I probably did her a favor. I’m not exactly hot stuff, thanks to Justin trashing my reputation.”
“Does she know you’re pregnant?”
“My agent?”
Nicole felt the same little lurch of panic that she felt every time she thought about the baby. And thinking about the baby meant thinking about Justin, and she didn’t want to think about him. It also meant thinking about her future, and she had no idea what that was going to look like. She knew she had decisions to make, but she wasn’t ready to make them. She kept telling herself that there was plenty of time. “I’ve worked without a break since I was nineteen, one project after another and sometimes several at the same time. I’ve earned a rest.”
She ignored the fact that the supposed rest had been forced on her by circumstances. That if it hadn’t been for Justin, and the pregnancy, she’d probably still be working every waking hour and most of the sleeping ones too. It was her life.
And now her life was on hold.
Milly checked the fitness tracker Nicole had bought her as a gift. “Time to head home.”
“Not yet. Ten more minutes of running.”
She’d made a point of pushing her friend a little harder each day, and this time Milly didn’t try to fight her on it. Nicole tried not to feel smug as Milly took off down the forest track, her movements strong and sure.
“Look at you!”
Nicole lengthened her stride so that she could catch her, and then Milly stopped dead and Nicole almost crashed into her.
“What the—”
“There’s a man up ahead.”
Milly turned and tugged the brim of Nicole’s hat farther over her eyes. “Stay behind me. I will say a bright and happy Hello as we jog past. You keep running.”
Nicole’s limbs felt shaky. “You’re sure I shouldn’t hide behind a tree?”
“I’m sure.”
And a moment later Milly said, “Oh, panic over. It’s Joel. Phew.”
“Joel?”
Nicole groaned. Wasn’t that just typical? “In that case I’m definitely hiding behind a tree. I made such a fool of myself last time he saw me.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“No, overreacting is what I did when he walked into the kitchen.”
Nicole wished she’d never agreed to run with Milly, but it was too late to hide or turn back or do any of the other things that entered her head because she heard the sound of feet hitting the trail and then Milly’s cheerful greeting.
“Hi, Joel!”
“Hey there. You two are up early.”
He flexed his shoulders and scanned Milly’s gear with interest. “Never seen you running before, Milly.”
“This is the new me. I’m going to dazzle everyone with my fitness.”
Milly took advantage of the rest to take a mouthful of water from her bottle. “Also, it was the only way I could tempt Nicole out of the house.”
“Is that right?”
He smiled at Nicole. “It’s good to see you out and about. I’ve been concerned that you were trapped indoors.”
He made her sound like a butterfly who kept smashing itself against the window in a bid for freedom.
“It’s nice to be out.”
She noticed that he was barely out of breath despite the fact he’d been running fast when they’d spotted him. “We haven’t seen you running here before.”
“I run every day, but usually in the evenings.”
Milly glanced along the trail. “Did you see anyone else on your run?”
“You mean, are you likely to see another human?”
He shook his head and glanced back the way he’d just come. “No. Gets busier at six thirty. Most people are here to relax and enjoy themselves, remember.”
Nicole wondered how that must feel. To wake up in a cabin by the lake and be able to do anything you wanted with the day. “Lucky them.”
The moment she said it she was embarrassed because she knew that she’d had a great deal of good fortune. And she was grateful for it. But people felt that her success somehow made her immune to all of life’s blows, and of course that wasn’t the case.
But Joel was looking at her with concern, not judgment. “So you leave the boathouse once a day at dawn? I suppose it’s better than nothing. But just in case you find that a little limiting, my offer stands.”
Milly put the cap back on her water. “What offer?”
“I offered to sneak Nicole out of here in the back of my van. I thought if I took her somewhere the tourists avoid, she could have a proper walk. Get out and enjoy the scenery. Nature. Forget about things for a while.”
“In the back of your van?”
Milly gave him a look. “That sounds super creepy, Joel. I’m not surprised she didn’t accept.”
“I accept.”
The words rushed out of her before she could change her mind.
Every day Milly left for work and every day Nicole watched the time pass minute by minute, waiting for the moment when her friend came home again. She had far too much time on her hands. Too much time to think. She’d started to write a script for something to do, but her heart wasn’t in it. And sooner or later she was going to have to expand her world again. Good mothers didn’t hide away in the house, did they? She needed to start carving some sort of new life for herself.
“If you’re sure,”
she said, “then, I accept.”
And now she was wondering if perhaps he hadn’t meant it. If he’d only said it because he knew she’d say no.
But Joel smiled. “I’m sure.”
“But not in the back of your van, please!”
Milly rolled her eyes. “Just sit in the front and wear a hat.”
“We can decide that part later.”
Joel checked his watch. “I need to go. The fridge in Aspen needs some attention, and it’s my first job of the day. Enjoy the rest of your run.”
He took off down the path, and Milly and Nicole finished their loop of the lake and headed back to the boathouse.
“Are you really planning to go with him?”
Milly paused for breath at the bottom of the steps. “You surprised me when you said yes.”
“I surprised myself. But I’ve been enjoying our runs, and I need to get out more. We both know I can’t carry on like this.”
She paused, second-guessing herself. “Do you think it’s a stupid idea?”
“No. Joel is completely trustworthy. Also, he knows this area well. He’ll take you somewhere off grid where you’re unlikely to see anyone except serious climbers.”
But now she was regretting her decision. What had possessed her to even say yes? She’d been disappointed and betrayed by the people closest to her, so what was she doing trusting a stranger?
She didn’t trust strangers, but she did trust her instincts, and they were telling her that Joel was everything he seemed to be. A decent human being. And if a small part of her was reminding her that she’d trusted her instincts about Justin too, then she ignored it.
Still, the doubt niggled. “Would you come too?”
“If you want me to, then of course.”
Milly didn’t hesitate. “But you’ll be fine with Joel. It will do you good to have a conversation with someone who isn’t me.”
“I love talking to you.”
After so long apart having her friend back was a comfort she knew she never wanted to do without again.
They headed indoors and found Zoe already up and in the kitchen, earphones in place, listening to something as she made coffee and scrambled eggs. A bowl of fresh berries sat on the countertop.
She was unaware that they were in the house until Milly tapped her on the shoulder and she turned.
“Sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
She removed her earbuds. “How was your run?”
Oh, to have the confidence to wear earphones, Nicole thought. There was never a time when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings, and if someone tapped her on the shoulder like that she would have kicked them, jabbed her fingers into their eye sockets and asked questions later.
“It was great, thanks. What are you listening to?”
Nicole stole a berry and popped it in her mouth.
Zoe shrugged. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“Right.”
She remembered how worried Milly was about Zoe and wondered if she might be able to help. After all, acting was the one thing she knew a great deal about. “You’re playing Hermia?”
“Yeah.”
Zoe turned away. Her tone and body language said that the subject was closed, but Nicole refused to be deflected that easily.
She banked on the fact that Zoe was too polite to shut her down the way she might her mother.
“Hermia is a great part. She’s a strong character, able to stand up for herself. A little feisty.”
She felt a pang of nostalgia for the days when she’d played the same part. It had been the performance that had changed her life because the woman who had become her agent had been in the audience on opening night. “Are you having fun with it?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
It was said with such a lack of enthusiasm that Nicole finally understood why Milly might be worried. Something wasn’t right.
The more she watched Milly in action, the more respect she had for her. It seemed to her that being a good mother involved far more than offering unconditional love and practical support where necessary. You had to be a mind reader.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Zoe paused and then turned to look at her. “Not really.”
Nicole ate another berry. “It’s just that I’m pretty sure that whatever you’re feeling playing this part, I will have felt it at some point.”
“I doubt it.”
“Try me.”
“It’s not the part itself.”
Zoe stirred the eggs and then sighed. “Cally went for the same part, and I got it.”
She muttered the words. “And now she’s not speaking to me.”
“Oh, Zoe.”
Milly made a distressed sound. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew you’d worry. You have enough to think about with Dad.”
Zoe turned the heat off under the pan. “It will be fine. And don’t give me sympathy or I’ll cry, and if I go into school with red eyes I’ll be toast.”
Nicole sent Milly a silencing look and handed Zoe a plate. “Cally is your best friend?”
Zoe nodded and put a slice of toast on the plate. “We’ve been friends forever, and if I’d known she was going to react like this I never would have auditioned. It’s not worth it.”
She tipped the eggs onto the toast. “You probably think that’s stupid.”
“It isn’t stupid at all. Envy is something that all actors have to learn to deal with. It’s hard.”
Nicole paused, choosing her words carefully. “But you can’t let other people’s envy stop you doing what you are desperate to do.”
Zoe stared at the eggs, which were slowly congealing on the plate. She looked utterly miserable. “But she’s my best friend. We’ve never fought before. Not like this. And the hardest part is that when something is wrong she’s the one I talk to, but now she’s the thing that’s wrong.”
Her voice cracked a little, and she paused to take a breath. “And I don’t have anyone to talk it through with.”
Milly’s fists were clenched, her distress almost as great as Zoe’s.
Nicole handed Zoe a knife and fork. “What do you think would have happened if she’d got the part and you hadn’t?”
“I don’t know.”
Zoe poked her breakfast without enthusiasm. “I would have been happy for her, I hope. Disappointed too, obviously. But I wouldn’t have let it get in the way of our friendship. No way.”
She sounded so sure. There had been a time when Nicole might have said the same thing and believed it, but she knew better now.
“In every friendship there comes a point where you’re tested. You go in different directions. Things change. That can shake the firmest of relationships.”
She could feel Milly looking at her, but she kept her attention on Zoe.
Zoe shrugged and ate a mouthful of breakfast, not even bothering to take the plate to the table. “You and Mum have gone in different directions, and you’re just fine.”
Nicole’s mouth was dry. “We’ve had our moments.”
“But my mum is still the first person you call when you’re in trouble, so whatever moments you’ve had, you’ve figured them out. And I have to do the same with Cally, but that’s hard when she’s not speaking to me. That’s why I’ve been thinking I might just give the whole thing up. Maybe then things will go back to how they were.”
“But they won’t, will they? Because you will have given up something you really wanted because she couldn’t handle her own emotions. Because she couldn’t be pleased that something good was happening to you. And at first you’ll be relieved that things seem fine again, but a tiny part of you will always remember that you gave it up for her, and that resentment will niggle like a splinter. A friend who expects you to give up what you love isn’t that good a friend.”
Zoe put her knife and fork down, her food only half-finished. “I guess.”
“Have you told her how you feel? Have you been honest?”
Nicole felt like a fraud and a hypocrite saying the words because she hadn’t talked honestly to Milly, had she? The secret she was carrying sat inside her, a hard, calcified lump of deception. And there was a very good reason why she hadn’t followed her own advice and talked honestly to Milly. She was terrified their friendship might not survive it.
Why had she started this conversation? She wasn’t in a position to advise anyone on friendship.
“Maybe I should do that. If I can even get her to listen to me.”
Zoe scraped away the last of her food and put her plate into the dishwasher. “But I still think I might rethink the whole acting thing.”
“Why don’t you give yourself time before deciding that?”
Zoe poured herself a glass of water, and Nicole helped herself to another couple of berries.
“I find it helps to keep my eye on the work itself. When you’re home tonight, do you want to rehearse with me?”
Zoe was wide-eyed, her cheeks suddenly flushed. “I don’t know. It’s a bit nerve-wracking. You’re Amara—I mean, I know you’re not really Amara, but you’re so brilliant I think I’d feel self-conscious. It would be like stripping naked in front of a supermodel, you know?”
Nicole laughed. “Please don’t strip naked. And I’m just an actor, like you.”
“Um—nothing at all like me,”
Zoe muttered, but she looked happier. “I don’t suppose—no, of course you wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t what?”
“Would you come to my drama group? Watch us? Maybe give us some tips?”
Nicole hesitated, and it was Milly who intervened.
“You know she can’t do that, Zoe. Nicole has to keep a low profile, and if she turns up at your drama group everyone will know she’s staying here.”
Zoe looked embarrassed. “Yeah, I get that. Stupid idea. Sorry for asking.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
For a wild moment Nicole almost said that yes, of course she’d do it, but she couldn’t bring herself to say those words. She couldn’t face subjecting herself to public scrutiny and judgment again. She was loving this quiet life more than she could possibly have imagined.
Milly poured herself a coffee. “Thespian or not, Zoe, you need to hurry up or we’ll be late for school.”
“Maybe I’ll join you for your run on the weekend,”
Zoe said. “Oh wait, I can’t. It’s my weekend to go to Dad’s.”
Nicole glanced at her friend. She knew how difficult she found those weekends, but nothing showed in Milly’s face as she reached into the fridge and pulled out more berries.
“You can join us the weekend after. If you can keep up.”
Nicole felt admiration and the same pang of envy she often felt when she watched Milly with Zoe. In her opinion, they had the perfect mother–daughter relationship.
Zoe vanished to get ready for school, and Milly handed Nicole a bowl of berries.
“Well, you can definitely stop worrying about whether you’ll be a good mother or not. You’re going to be brilliant. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For getting her to talk about it. For handling it all so well. I told you that you’d be an amazing mother, and you just proved it.”
“She’s a teenager, not a baby. It’s different.”
Milly laughed. “Babies are much easier than teenagers. Or perhaps I should say it’s a different type of stress. One is physically exhausting, and the other is mentally exhausting. As you will discover. Anyway, thanks.”
Nicole felt a little better. Maybe she wasn’t going to be such an awful mother. Maybe there was hope. “You’re welcome.”
Milly added yogurt to her berries, but this time she didn’t bother reaching for honey. “I can’t believe Zoe and Cally aren’t talking to each other. I feel sick for her.”
Nicole had only recently learned that was a thing: feeling your child’s emotions as if they were your own. If Zoe was worried, Milly worried. If Zoe was in pain, Milly was in pain. It was as if the two of them were invisibly connected.
She wondered sometimes why that connection had been missing for her mother. There had been so many times during her childhood when she’d been in pain and she was sure her mother hadn’t felt a thing.
But it was obvious to her that Milly felt everything.
Over the past couple of weeks Nicole had watched Milly and Zoe together and studied their interactions.
She liked the way they chatted together so naturally, each one tossing a line of conversation that the other one caught and ran with. She liked the way Zoe talked so openly to Milly, and although she hadn’t told her about Cally, it was because she was trying to protect Milly. And she admired the way Milly listened carefully to everything her daughter said, never interrupting, and never judging. She bestowed hugs and comfort when needed and calm good humor when things were tense. It was obvious from the conversation they’d had on their morning runs that Milly had bitten her lip again and again rather than allow herself to say bad things about Richard in front of their daughter.
Nicole wasn’t sure she would have been able to display the same restraint.
And she couldn’t help wondering how different things would have been if her mother had been more like Milly.
Nicole’s entire inner world had been a secret from her mother, and she hadn’t had to work hard to keep it private because her mother had never been interested enough to look.
It had been years since she’d seen her. She didn’t know exactly how many years because she was afraid to count them. Every year that passed was yet more evidence of her lack of importance in her mother’s life.
The last time she’d been in touch with her mother was when Nicole had been in London for the premiere of one of her movies. Ironically she’d been playing the part of a daughter estranged from her mother, an emotional role that she’d found so true to life that she hadn’t had to dig that deep for inspiration.
On impulse she’d called her mother and asked if she’d like to meet up, but her mother had told her that she was at the airport about to fly to Australia where she had a new job as the head of vascular surgery in a major hospital.
Nicole had listened in disbelief.
Her mother was moving to Australia and hadn’t even mentioned it. If Nicole hadn’t called at that exact moment, would she even have known?
Nicole had wished her luck, as if she was nothing more than an acquaintance from the past, and had never called her mother again.
It was too humiliating. In her lowest moments she’d actually wondered if her mother had chosen Australia on purpose because it was a country Nicole rarely visited.
She’d been upset all over again, but that final move of her mother’s had confirmed what she’d always known: that their relationship would never be what Nicole wanted it to be. Gradually she’d accepted the situation for what it was.
She’d wondered briefly if she should reach out and tell her that she was pregnant, but she’d dismissed the thought right away. What was the point? And in the unlikely event that her mother was interested, would Nicole want her anywhere near her child? No, she would not.
She thought of Milly’s words.
You can choose what type of mother you want to be.
When Nicole had said she wanted to be like Milly, it was true.
She wanted to be the sort of mother who sat down and listened and laughed with her child no matter how busy she was. The sort of mother who was hands-on, who didn’t ration hugs, who loved unconditionally.
She wasn’t going to think about her relationship with her own mother. She was going to think about Milly’s relationship with Zoe, and Connie’s relationship with Milly. She was surrounded by good role models. There was no reason why she should emulate the bad one, even if it was the one closest to home.
And she was going to prove Justin wrong.