On Top of the World
On Top of the World
“OK, so this is your red-carpet pose,” says Eve’s film publicist, Brenda. “Legs crossed, hand on hip, elbow out, chin up.”
“Right,” says Eve, looking at herself in the mirror. She’s in her glittery Jenny Packham dress—she knew she would need it one day—and there are diamonds winking at her ears, courtesy of earrings loaned to her by Boodles. On her wrist is a bracelet worth ￡80,000. She’s not sure she’s going to be able to think anything tonight except Don’t lose the ￡80,000 bracelet.
As she’s practicing different poses, her family piles into the room, all scrubbed up and in their best.
“Arthur’s eaten all the chocolate from the minibar,” reports Leo.
“So have you!” retorts Arthur.
“I had the freebies on the pillows,” contradicts Leo. “You didn’t want those.”
“Yes, I did!”
“OK, leave it!” says Eve quickly. “No arguing today. You all look very smart, by the way.”
“So do you, Mum,” says John. “Super-glamorous.”
“Thank you, darling.” She laughs. “I do my best.”
“OK,” says Brenda. “The car’s waiting downstairs. Everybody ready? Let’s go!”
—
Their car is a sleek black SUV limo and as the family gets in, they all exclaim at the opulence of their surroundings.
“Free Coke!” says Reggie in delight, reaching for a can, and Eve, who would normally veto fizzy drinks, just laughs.
As they edge their way into Leicester Square, already there’s excitement in the air. Searchlights are shooting up into the dark night, crowds are gathered, camera crews are lined up along metal railings, and beyond them is a glimpse of red carpet. It’s like seeing the Yellow Brick Road. As Eve peers out of the window she spots Carrie Sanderson, the star of the film, looking petite and perfect in green sequins, and she feels a fresh flicker of excitement. This is really happening.
“Well, here we are!” she says, looking at her wide-eyed children. “Let’s do this!”
And with that, they are out of the limo and being expertly led to the red carpet by Brenda.
“Eve!” calls Carrie Sanderson, spotting her and hurrying over. They embrace, cameras clicking all around, and Eve feels a wave of surrealism—she knows a movie star! Eve has always felt tall next to the petite Carrie, and now she’s wearing such high heels she feels like a giant.
“We made it!” Carrie holds up a hand, and as they high-five, Eve remembers the endless days on set, the late nights, the takes after takes after takes, the hasty rewriting of lines.
We earned this party, she thinks. Although even now the work isn’t done. She isn’t here to relax, she’s here to promote.
As though reading her thoughts, Brenda appears by her side.
“We’re ready for your photo calls,” she says. “First you on your own, Eve, then you with the family. Then you and Carrie, then both of you with the producer and director, OK?”
Eve walks awkwardly into place and begins the rigmarole of trying to look svelte for the cameras while another wave of disbelief washes over her. Is she, Eve Monroe, really posing for cameras on the red carpet? Her gaze travels beyond the lenses to the crowds packed behind the metal railings, some holding out books for her to sign—and she hears her own name being called, among all the others. It’s all just bizarre.
Now the cameramen are shouting for her.
“Eve, over here!”
“Eve, love, this way!”
The flashes nearly blind her, and she clings desperately to her rigid pose, trying to make flattering angles with her hips and arms, wishing she’d practiced more in the mirror.
“Now,” says Brenda, at her side once more. “One with all your family. People want to see your husband and the five kids.”
Eve knows there is interest in her brood of children. Five kids. It’s a lot, these days. It’s a talking point. “What does it feel like to have five children?” people ask, and all she can say is, “The same as having one child, times five.” The work is multiplied, the worry is multiplied, the joy is multiplied, the love is multiplied.
As her children assemble around her, Eve gives encouraging smiles all round.
“Now, everyone pretend we’re a nice normal family,” she says, quoting a comic sign that hangs in their kitchen, then turns her laser gaze on Reggie, aged nine. “And Reggie, no silly faces or rabbit ears. Stand up straight! Smile!”
“Over here!” photographers start shouting. “Kids! Look this way. Eve, to your right, please! Eve! Eve!”
Her family have done her proud, she thinks fondly, the boys in suits and Isobel in a pretty dress with silver Mary Janes. This will be something for her Show and Tell at school, anyway.
“Now ITN would like a word,” says Brenda in her ear when the photos are finished. “Come this way.”
She leads Eve to a camera crew and Eve follows, trying to stay in her red-carpet pose, just in case she gets snapped. She clamps her hand on her hip, keeps her legs crossed, and shuffles awkwardly along like a crab, wondering how on earth the movie stars manage to walk naturally.
“Eve!” A blond TV presenter greets her, holding a microphone and beckoning to a camera crew. “Antonia Horton from ITN. What does it feel like to have your book turned into a major Hollywood movie?”
“It feels surreal,” says Eve. “The whole thing is just amazing and surreal.”
“And are you happy with the movie?”
“Very happy. I think Carrie is hilarious.”
“You were on set too, I believe?”
“Yes, for a few months. It was intense!”
“What an experience! And I see all your children are here with you too—so, can I ask you, Eve Monroe, bestselling author, how does it feel to have it all? The starry career, the five children, and now a movie!”
It feels lucky, thinks Eve at once. I just feel super-uber-lucky, all the time .
Of course she works hard—but she’s also constantly aware of the good fortune she’s had. She’s lucky to have met Nick. She’s lucky to have been fertile and had children. She’s lucky that she’s able to write. She’s lucky her brain came up with the right idea at the right time and she was able to write Hey Big Spender .
Well done, you brilliant brain, she thinks—then draws breath to reply.
“I’ve been so incredibly fortunate, it almost seems like too much luck for one person,” she says truthfully to Antonia Horton. “Now I’m just waiting for my luck to run out!”