Beth
Beth
It’s been a shock to them both. And now that Nick’s gone and they are settled back home, Beth hates that Vaughan is struggling to cope with his new status as ‘recovering heart attack victim’.
She’s struggling to cope with it too.
On the one hand, of course, she’s grateful. So grateful he didn’t die. But on the other…
‘This is a fate worse than death,’ he says, as she brings him a cup of tea and pulls the heavy curtains back so that he can admire the view of the ocean.
‘Really? That’s the last time I make you a cup of tea then.’
But he doesn’t smile.
She swallows. She’s not used to this version of him. Grumpy Vaughan.
‘I can’t even get to the toilet without getting out of breath.’
‘It’ll take time,’ she says. ‘You need to have some patience.’
‘What have you got planned for today?’ he asks, gruffly, as she sits on the end of the bed.
‘Nothing much,’ she says, plucking at the fluff of her top.
‘You need to set up some meetings.’
‘I’m looking after you.’
‘I’ll be fine. Sula’s coming in later isn’t she?’
‘Yes but…’
‘For God’s sake, Beth,’ he says, putting the mug of tea on the bedside table. ‘I don’t want both of us wasting away in this flat. You have to keep riding the momentum from Ten to One . This is your time.’
She sighs.
Ten to One is the six-parter she shot for Sky. It’s been a huge hit, already recommissioned for another two series, but unfortunately her character was killed off in the final episode.
Vaughan is a workaholic. He doesn’t believe in having time off. She used to like it about him, but now it makes her angry. It’s too much.
‘I’ve got plenty of irons in the fire. My UK agent mentioned…’
She stops short. This isn’t the time to tell him this. What if it gives him another heart attack?
She’s found it so difficult to sleep lately. Constantly lying awake watching him breathing beside her, terrified that if she falls asleep it’ll happen again, and this time it’ll be a silent one and neither of them will wake up in time to save him.
Thank God she’d been with him when it happened.
It was a Monday afternoon, he’d just come back from the gym and was packing for yet another work trip, when he started complaining that he didn’t feel right. Within minutes, he’d collapsed on their bedroom floor. It was the most terrified she’d ever been. More terrifying even than the fire.
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ she says, standing and looking down at her feet. ‘Never mind.’
But she knows that doesn’t work with Vaughan. It never has. He’s sharp as a tack, even when he’s recovering from major heart surgery.
‘Is there something interesting shooting over there?’ he asks.
She glances at him. He doesn’t look particularly alarmed by the idea.
‘Not exactly. It’s some new writing. A play at the Donmar.’
He nods. Deep down, he’s not made for Hollywood either. He grew up in Barnsley, and his parents always struggled for money. He’s chased the dollars his whole life, understandably.
But at what cost? She looks at him now, the grey under his eyes, the way his chin seems to have merged into his neck overnight, and she thinks of his time in hospital, and she wonders what happened to that man she met outside the audition room, who invited her for dim sum and whose eyes seemed to burn with energy and enthusiasm.
He’s aged at least ten years in the past two. The pressure of juggling multiple productions, flying all over the world to try to set up financing, plus his own writing commitments, which always seem to fall to the bottom of the pile. Never getting enough sleep. Barely ever seeing his daughter.
The week Edie stayed with them was a disaster. He couldn’t be present enough for her, and Beth had to stand and watch as Edie’s heart broke just a little bit more every time Vaughan listened to her without really listening, or turned up late for some activity Beth had planned, or picked up a call in the middle of their volleyball game on the beach and disappeared for an hour with no explanation.
When they took Edie to the airport for her flight home, not long before Vaughan had his heart attack, Beth held her close and said that they’d loved having her to stay, and Edie looked up at her, blinked and replied sadly: ‘Thanks for trying to make it fun.’
Beth had to fight back the tears.
‘What’s the play?’ Vaughan asks, cutting through her thoughts.
She swallows. Perhaps it would be good for them both to go back to London for a bit. If only she can persuade him.
‘It’s about a woman who goes to stay with her ageing grandmother, to take care of her. The grandmother starts to believe that the woman is actually herself, when she was younger. That she’s not real, she’s a hallucination.’ She pauses, waits to tell him the most important thing. ‘They’ve cast Patricia White as the grandmother.’
‘Well then. You should do it.’
‘I’m not sure.’
She feels like she’s being manipulative now. But is this the only way to make him see?
‘Come here,’ he says, blinking slowly.
She edges towards him, sitting down again on the bed.
He shifts, wincing as he straightens up.
‘Listen. This thing that’s happened. It’s happened to me,’ he says, eventually.
‘But…’
‘Sssh, please. I want you to understand. It’s important, Beth. It’s happened to me. Because I’m nearly fifty, I haven’t taken good enough care of myself and high blood pressure runs in my family… All of this is my shit, Beth. Do you understand? But also, it’s made me realise. It’s been an awakening of sorts, if you like. It’s made me realise how short life is. How precious. All those clichés, they’re true. And I’m not an idiot. I know that you’ve never really settled here, that you count down the days until you can jump on a plane and fly home again.’
‘That’s not…’
‘True? Yes it is. And I get it. You never wanted this life. You didn’t want it like I did. You loved the work, you didn’t want fame…’
‘No,’ she says, feeling ashamed. ‘You’re wrong. I didn’t think I wanted it but…’ She pauses, trying to articulate her thoughts. ‘It’s like a drug, this industry. It corrodes your soul. You get a taste of attention – a sprinkling of adoration and suddenly you want more of it. It’s not enough to look back and think “well that film did OK”. Instead you spend your life looking forward, wanting something bigger and better. I never wanted the attention when I started out. But now… I find it hard to not strive for more.’
He nods.
‘It makes me sad to hear you say that,’ he says. ‘But I understand.’
She smiles.
‘Jesus, listen to the pair of us complaining about our wonderful life. Proper Hollywood brats.’
‘Yeah.’
There’s a pause. She glances out of the window, watching the people playing volleyball on the beach. She has never felt more lost.
‘I think we should go back to London,’ she says, eventually. ‘I think it would be good for us. I think… I need to get a grip. I worry that I’m losing my grip on reality here. Losing perspective on the world. This bubble we live in… it’s a nice bubble, but it’s not real. Nothing’s real. It’s all fake. And more than anything, I miss having friends. Real friends. Because no one’s really your friend here. You go to these parties and events and people smile at you and chat to you and when you take a sip of your champagne you look back up to see that they’re gazing over your shoulder, trying to see who else is in the room. Trying to see if there’s anyone more important there. I feel like you can’t have a genuine conversation with anyone. Everyone’s acting all the time and it’s so frustrating it makes me want to scream.’
‘I don’t think it’s as bad as all that,’ he says, looking sad.
‘It is.’
‘Is that why you called Nick? After my heart attack?’
She looks away.
‘I don’t know. He’s just always been straight with me. You were so sick and I really felt like I was losing my mind. Sula was helpful but she’s your friend, not mine.’
‘What about… that girl from Ten to One ? Shauna?’
‘She’s moved to Brazil to be with some guy.’
‘Ah,’ he gives a gruff laugh. ‘Sorry, not funny.’
‘Shauna has really shitty taste in men.’
‘Well,’ he says, smiling a little. ‘At least you don’t have that.’
She bats him on the arm.
‘No, I just pick men who work themselves into the ground and leave me endlessly worried about them.’
He takes a deep breath.
‘You should go to London. Do this play. How long is the run?’
‘I haven’t even auditioned for it yet.’
‘They want you to audition? Arseholes.’
She laughs.
‘Well,’ she says, realising her agent wasn’t actually clear. ‘I don’t know. I mean, I’d prefer to audition. I know it sounds crazy but… I don’t want them just picking me because I’m a name.’
‘Careful, you’re beginning to sound like someone with integrity.’
‘I don’t know how long the run is. Three or four months I’d guess.’
‘Well then, I’ll survive.’
She widens her eyes. After all, he can’t say that with any certainty, can he?
‘But won’t you come too? I mean, you can’t stay here on your own.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because… you had a bloody heart attack, Vaughan!’
‘Well, I’ll get a housekeeper. Someone to keep an eye on me.’
‘We already have a housekeeper.’
‘Oh, yeah. Well, I’ll ask Sula to move in for a bit.’
‘She won’t want to do that. She has a five-year-old son, remember?’
‘He can move in too. Hell, we have enough bedrooms. Or I’ll find someone else. We’ll work around it. I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me. This play… it sounds good. It sounds exciting, the kind of thing I know you want to do. And working with Patricia… that would be incredible.’
She sighs.
‘I’m not sure,’ she says, taking his hand and squeezing it. ‘I’d only be worried about you. Why don’t you come too?’
‘And spend the next four months recuperating in the miserable London weather when I could be here, with sea and sunshine on my doorstep? Anyway, you’d be busy all the time with the play. No thanks. I’d be better off here. We’ve done long-distance before. We can make it work again.’
‘I suppose,’ she says.
He smiles at her. His eyes are the same as they ever were and she feels reassured. He’s a fighter, he will get through this.
‘It’ll all be fine my love,’ he says, kissing the back of her hand. ‘I’ll be very well looked after. Now, promise me you’ll call your agent and fly over and set up a meeting with them as soon as possible.’
*
Eleven weeks later, Beth comes back to her dressing room after the first technical rehearsal. She’s tired, but exhilarated. It feels as though her work in this play might be her best yet. Nick texted her earlier to say he’d bought opening night tickets and she can’t wait for him to see it. Given his feelings about his own grandparents, she’s hopeful it will resonate with him.
As she reaches for her water bottle, she realises that her phone is buzzing angrily on the dressing table. She rushes towards it, but she’s too late, and the call goes to voicemail.
She looks at the screen.
Six missed calls from Sula. Two voicemail messages.
She stabs at the buttons, trying to get the voicemail to load.
But somehow, she knows even before she listens to the message what it will say.
Vaughan has had another heart attack. And this time, he didn’t make it.