Chapter Twenty-Five Clara #2
Salma and Harry excitedly bluster a thank you, throwing drink orders at Milo, who beams back at them. He turns to Jemma, who is glowering sullenly at him. ‘And what would you like? Sorry, what’s your name?’
‘I’m Jemma,’ she says, ‘and I don’t want a drink from you .’
‘Jemma!’ I gasp, horrified, and turning to Milo, I say, ‘God, sorry about her. She’s a bit drunk.’
‘I’m not drunk!’ She sounds outraged, trying and failing to defiantly put her hands on her hips. ‘OK, I am drunk – extremely drunk actually – but that’s not the point.’
‘What is the point?’ Milo looks genuinely interested.
‘YOU!’ Jemma half-yells to a startled Milo. ‘You are the point! You’ve ruined my favourite book.’
He frowns. ‘I’ve… huh? How have I ruined it?’
Jemma shakes her head – actually, slumps it around her shoulders might be more accurate. ‘Y’know, with your… making it into a TV thing thingy. You took the most beautiful, most important thing to me and you’ve…’ she waves her hands trying to demonstrate her elusive point, ‘… ruined it!’
Harry makes an apologetic face at Milo. ‘Don’t be offended, mate. Too Good to Be True is her favourite novel, she’s been reading it since she was little.’
At this, Milo looks a little sad and I feel a wave of anger at Jemma. She’s being totally mad – the TV show is brilliant and Milo is the best actor in the universe. How can she be so mean to him? Doesn’t she understand this is her future brother-in-law?
‘Don’t listen to her,’ I say earnestly. ‘We all love the show, honestly.’
Harry and Salma nod. ‘We do actually,’ Harry interjects as Salma adds, ‘And for all her noise, Jemma here has watched some of it, too, so she can’t hate it that much.’
‘I bloody do, and for the record, I’ve barely watched two minutes of it,’ Jemma mutters, then squints at Milo. ‘What other shows have you starred in and ruined?’ She pauses, her bluster calming. ‘And can I have a vodka, orange and lemonade?’
Milo nods, looking a little cheered. He turns to the bar, then back, regarding Jemma curiously. ‘Are you’ – his eyes flick between us – ‘are you two related?’
This takes me a little by surprise. Nobody ever thinks Jemma and I are sisters – we’re so different.
‘No, we’re not related, how dare you?!’ Jemma cries, then shrugs. ‘I mean, technically, yes, we’re twins, but not really. Fraternal twins don’t count. You get all the competition and comparisons without any of the magic of one egg split into two people. It’s fake twin shit.’
Milo looks mystified. ‘Right, yes,’ he nods, ‘that actually makes sense to me. I have a brother who’s only eleven months older than me. I used to feel like I was living in his shadow a lot.’
‘You understand nothing !’ Jemma says dramatically, leaning back and almost falling over.
Harry puts an arm out to catch her and I note them touching, with detached disinterest. It’s good they’re touching, I like that they’re touching.
I love that he’s still got his arm around her.
They’ll realize they’re into each other any minute now!
Jemma is ranting some more, and Milo seems surprisingly interested.
‘You have no idea what it’s like to be a girl – or a woman!
– you couldn’t understand what it’s like to be scrutinized by society the way we are!
To be told over and over that your looks are all that are worth anything and ignored or sneered at for not trying to live up to those standards—’
Salma leans into me. ‘Is she going to do the whole speech from Barbie , do you think? Because I might go to the loo.’
Jemma continues, still swaying. ‘You don’t have any idea what it was like to be constantly compared with her !
’ She waves in my direction. ‘Always hearing people going, “ Ooh, twins! Who’s the pretty one? Who’s the fun one?
Who’s the popular one? ” Spoiler alert, it was always her.
It’s bad enough being a friendless loser as a kid, but imagine how it feels to have a shining, shiny example of teen perfection you’re constantly held up against. Believe me, it’s ten times worse! ’
Milo hands Jemma her drink and she downs half of it in one go. I study her for a minute, agog. She’s never really said any of this before. I just thought she hated me and thought I was an idiot. But she was actually – what is this – jealousy? She was jealous ?
I shake my head, trying to process the thought. I feel silly because it honestly never occurred to me. She’s always been so wise and sensible. She always knew what she was doing and why. She was always so much better than me! How baffling that she sees things this way. And why did she never say it?
‘And now,’ Jemma continues dramatically, getting in Milo’s face, ‘you take my one safe harbour – my safety blanket, my sanctuary – and you turn it into a mass consumer product with none of the depth and heart of my book!’
She finishes her speech and her drink, eyeballing Milo, who looks surprisingly calm. After a moment he nods and says, ‘I agree.’
Jemma’s mouth drops open. ‘You… agree ?’ She shakes her head after a second. ‘What, with Clara being the pretty, fun, popular twin?’
He laughs, side-stepping the question. ‘I actually meant about the book and the TV series. I don’t think there’s any way to really capture the essence of any book in just a handful of episodes, or even in a ninety-minute film.
To even start to get close, you’d have to do something like the 1995 Pride and Prejudice five-and-a-half-hour epic.
’ He pauses. ‘Absolutely brilliant in my opinion, by the way. Though I still prefer the book.’ I catch Salma and Jemma exchanging an awed glance.
Milo sighs. ‘You can’t beat books, not really, and I don’t want to.
I don’t even want to compare what we made to the novel version.
But I think Book Boyfriend the TV show was worth making, too, for its own sake.
I don’t think it takes anything away from the novel.
’ He hesitates again, looking sad. ‘But I’m really, genuinely sorry you feel it does.
I would never want that.’ He looks intently at Jemma and she stares back.
‘Well, er, now that’s all resolved,’ I say quickly, ‘um, Salma, weren’t you going to ask Milo something?
’ Salma looks a bit panicked, shooting me a confused mini-shake of the head.
I prompt, ‘Um, about your radio show? Didn’t you want to get Milo on there for an interview?
’ Salma remembers her lines at last, nodding emphatically.
‘Oh! Right, yes, sure! I’d really love that,’ she says. ‘I did email your agent about it, and they said they’d put me on the schedule for the next press junket. You’re doing some round tables soon?’
Harry shakes his head at me, murmuring, ‘What the hell is a round table?’
I roll my eyes. ‘Duh, Haz, didn’t you ever hear of King Arthur? It’s obviously what Milo’s filming next. He’s probably playing Lancelot or something.’
Milo smiles a slightly tired but professional smile at Salma.
‘Yes, and of course I’m really looking forward to doing more round tables again.
’ He shoots me and Harry an amused look.
‘Also known as group media interviews. They must be happening quite soon actually. The whole cast is heading to Australia in a couple of months to launch the series over there. They’ve bought the franchise, and it’s in our contract to help promote it.
’ He wiggles his eyebrows. ‘We’re staying in Byron Bay.
I haven’t been there since I went travelling at nineteen. ’
‘Isn’t Byron Bay a singer?’ I ask, and Harry shakes his head.
‘No, it’s a place. In Australia.’
‘No way, he was a singer!’ I insist. ‘In Roxy Music? Didn’t he have an eye patch?’
Harry squints at me, uncertain. ‘Bryan Ferry?’
I sigh. ‘ No , Bryan Bay!’
Jemma covers her ears with frustration. ‘It’s a place , Clara!’
Milo laughs. ‘I’m pretty sure it is. It certainly was thirteen years ago when I was there.’
I put my hands up. ‘All right, all right! I believe you all.’ I turn to Harry and quietly ask, ‘Can you at least get there by ferry?’
‘We could try!’ he says, looking at me fondly.
I quickly look away, checking Jemma didn’t see anything.
Not that there’s anything to see! We’re just pals.
I sidle over to Milo at the bar, thinking about what he said.
He’s going to Australia. That’s like… a certain number of miles away!
Probably a lot! I’m going to need him to fall in love with me soon, otherwise he’ll be gone.
All the way to the other side of the world for god knows how long, surrounded by gloriously gorgeous Margot Robbie-esque Home and Away actors.
‘So, bloody hell,’ I begin, ‘flying to Australia, promoting your TV show! Doing, er, rounded table and chairs. It must be an exciting life!’
He laughs shortly. ‘Yeah, I guess it is!’ He pauses, swallowing.
‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, I really love what I do.
The acting is everything I ever wanted from my life, but the rest of it is…
um, a lot.’ His eyes travel the high-ceilinged room bedecked with glittery lights and round to the crowds of people surrounding us in their finery, all clinking glasses and schmoozing.
‘All of this is nice occasionally, I guess, but a bit exhausting.’
A memory from my Milo-stalking days flashes: him storming out of an interview. ‘I can totally imagine,’ I say sympathetically. ‘You must hate having to do all that media stuff!’
He glances over his shoulder nervously. I’d hazard he’s checking where Katiezzz is. ‘Um, it can be quite rough,’ he says in a low voice. ‘And so much gets twisted and misquoted.’
I lean closer. ‘I understand, Milo. Personally, I’d upend a table and storm out with all that press intrusion.’