30. EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
“ I ’ve booked your flights. Have you managed to get the time off work?” Taylor asked Clara from where he was sprawled on her sofa. He had become a fixture in her house, there whenever he could be.
They had been together eight months and, despite hectic schedules, had managed not to go more than a few weeks without seeing each other. Clara would admit that Taylor’s solution of throwing money at the problem helped. If either of them had a couple of days off, he would pay for whoever was free to fly to the other one.
Clara had objected to him spending so much money on her and had managed to pay for a few of the flights, as now that Jack had paid her back, her money wasn’t so tight. But Taylor had sat her down and said he thought it would be fairest if they contributed to the flights proportionally, depending on their earnings for the previous year. She had agreed, then nearly fallen off her chair when they worked out he had earned two hundred times more than she had. And however much she complained, he would take no more than one two-hundredth of the cost of the travel from her.
Clara confirmed, “Yeah, it’s all booked. I’ve taken the whole week off.”
“Great. I’m flying straight in from Italy, so I’ll be there a couple of days after you.”
Clara nodded. “Yeah. Louisa invited me to stay at their house for those two days.”
After the trip to LA, she had managed to persuade Damien and Louisa to stop sending her so many flowers, but they had become firm friends. She chatted with one or the other of them most weeks, and Damien had already booked her for work on an upcoming film as his medical adviser.
“And Mom says you need to stay at the house after so she can hang out with you,” Taylor grumbled and rolled his eyes.
“Of course.” Clara laughed.
Gloria was apparently a big fan of hers and insisted on girl time whenever she could pry Clara away from Taylor, which wasn’t very often.
Clara’s phone beeped with a text message. It was from Ellen, one of the registrars. ‘Any chance of a room for the night?’
‘Absolutely. Head on over.’ Clara replied.
“Ellen’s coming over tonight,” Clara said to Taylor, who was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t reply, only giving her a thumbs up.
When the pictures of her with Taylor first hit the press, they spread around the hospital like wildfire, with multiple people approaching Clara to ask if that was her and if it was true. She confirmed the rumours and let her quiz team know that the ‘Tom’ she had brought to their quiz night all those months ago was Taylor.
At first, it caused a huge amount of excitement, and Clara arranged a meal in a private room so the team could all meet Taylor.
She had rolled her eyes at the antics of some of her friends during that first meeting, especially Sadie, who needed to look at the picture of her husband multiple times to stop herself from giggling inanely whenever Taylor spoke. Eventually, they had all settled down, and whenever Taylor was in town, he joined the team, with the ferret stuck to his face as a disguise.
While she hadn’t explicitly told the registrars that they might run into Taylor at her house, they had obviously spoken among themselves, as for a little while she had been inundated with starstruck house guests, but now everything was settling down, and they were used to the possibility that they may finish a long shift, then hang out on the sofa with a Hollywood star.
Clara initially found the interest in her life intrusive, and she noticed a few photographers lurking around and trying to follow her. She also didn’t answer her front door in her pyjamas anymore after one of the paparazzi with a camera had rung her doorbell, and she had answered it wearing her now internationally famous red plaid pyjamas.
Luckily, Taylor’s lawyers were swift and decisive and soon put a stop to the harassment of her.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Taylor finally said from his horizontal position on the new sofa that had been Clara’s first splurge after Jack had paid her back.
“Chocolate?” Clara immediately guessed.
“Nope. Better than chocolate,” he promised.
“Ice cream?” She tried again.
“Nope.” Taylor shook his head.
“Wine?” Was her next guess.
“It’s not food,” he sighed with exasperation.
“Oh. Bugger, well, do we have any ice cream? Or did you eat it while I was at work?” Clara went to walk to the freezer to check.
It had initially been a shock to see how much food he ate. She would arrive home from work to find he had polished off the last of the ice cream or eaten something for lunch that she had been meaning to have for dinner. Taylor though, had quickly solved the problem, and he had groceries and pre-made meals delivered to her house every week. And however many times she objected, the food kept arriving, and she had never had such a full fridge or freezer.
“I didn’t eat the ice cream. You know I’m dieting again,” Taylor grumbled.
He had initially binged when he was around her, indulging himself in carbs and sweet treats, but had quickly settled back into his normal routine to keep himself in shape for his work.
“Oh yeah. Sorry.” She called back and grabbed an apple for each of them instead. Walking back in, she took a bite out of one and tossed the other to him. “What’s the surprise?” Flopping down next to him, she wriggled a bit until she was tucked under his arm.
“Now, don’t get cross with me,” Taylor drawled.
Clara drew back. “Why would I get cross?”
“I know I should have talked to you first. But my business manager said it was a good investment and I should snap it up. And then I decided to keep it as a surprise.” He held his phone out to her.
Taking it slowly, Clara looked at the screen, which was open to a real estate website. Silently, she flicked through the photos of the house of her dreams. It was a simple A-frame, with four bedrooms and an open-plan living area with a beautiful fireplace in the centre of the room. There was a swimming pool and three separate cabins on the grounds, each with two bedrooms. And it was all set on one hundred acres of land. It was stunning.
“That’s lovely. It’ll make a great investment for you.” She tried to sound excited, but her voice was a little flat. If he had that to go home to, he wouldn’t be coming to see her so often.
Taylor nudged her shoulder. “Did you check the map?”
He grabbed the phone and scrolled to the bottom of the page, opening up the map and putting it back into her hands.
Frowning, she stared at it, then zoomed out a little, her eyes widening in surprise. “It’s here?”
“Yup!” Taylor crowed, bouncing with glee.
“You bought yourself a house in my town?” Clara whispered, turning to face him, hope bubbling in her chest.
“No,” Taylor said, shaking his head.
She deflated at his words; he must just be planning on renting it out.
“I bought us a house in your town.” A broad grin split his face.
“What?” The words filtered through her brain, which was working slower than normal.
“Clara Upford, I love you. I want us to have a home together.” Taylor stared deeply into her eyes.
Clara couldn’t help it; tears trickled down her cheeks. If you had told her a year ago that she would be sitting with a man she loved, and he would be asking her to move in with him, she would have told you that you were delusional. But here she was, happier than she had ever been in her life.
“I want that too,” she sobbed and flung herself into his arms.
“That’s good.” His voice was muffled against her neck, “I collect the keys tomorrow.”
“What?” Clara pulled back, her tears instantly stopping in surprise. “Tomorrow, tomorrow? As in Saturday?”
“Yeah. It was empty, and my business manager pushed the deal through. I figured you could rent out this place to pay the mortgage. Keep it as an investment. And we could move into our house.”
“Our house.” Clara tried the words out and found she loved them. “And the three cabins?” She was already grinning when she asked.
“If it’s okay with you. One for my mum, one for your parents when they stay, and the third for the registrars to use.”
“That’s perfect. I can’t wait to see our house.” She hugged him tighter, unable to quite believe how lucky she was.
Clara sat in her midnight blue gown, which she had insisted on wearing rather than buying anything new. Telling Taylor multiple times that it was the nicest dress she had ever worn; it was the dress she had been wearing when they had their first kiss, and it would be the dress she wore on his biggest night.
The red carpet had been unreal. The press had all been vying for Taylor’s attention, and they also all knew who she was and referred to her as Doc Hollywood, the nickname the press had given her. She had tried to quash the name, as it sounded so pretentious, and Sadie took great glee in calling her it whenever she could, but Taylor told her not to bother, as it wouldn’t stop them calling her what they wanted.
On the red carpet, when asked who she was wearing, Clara apologetically said she didn’t know, and Louisa, who had been standing nearby, rolled her eyes in exasperation and provided the designer’s name, whispering in her ear that she should have picked a new dress and that any number of prestigious designers would have dressed her. Clara had just shrugged; she was happy with what she wore.
Everywhere she gazed, there was a face she knew from a movie. It was overwhelming, and Taylor seemed to know so many of them, shaking hands with the men and exchanging air kisses with the women, which were always respectfully brief before he took hold of Clara’s hand again.
Standing amongst the most beautiful women in Hollywood, Clara’s insecurities threatened to surface. She wasn’t as pretty as them, she wasn’t as thin as them, and she wasn’t the type of person who should be on Taylor’s arm.
The traitorous voices were silenced when Taylor stared down at her, the love in his eyes obvious. She was the only woman for him.
Clara had seen the Oscars on television and found the whole thing fascinating. She was sat down in the main part of the Dolby theatre with Taylor, even though she had offered to sit in the balcony so Gloria could be next to her son. But the older woman had kindly insisted that she would sit with the other families, and Taylor would want Clara by his side.
When it was finally Taylor’s category, Clara clutched onto his hand as they watched the presenter make their way onto the stage.
She flinched a little as they became the focus of the camera nearest them. After nine months together, she was almost used to the constant cameras being turned their way, and she would either ignore them or subtly push Taylor forward so he would be the main focus.
However, stuck in a seat, she had nowhere to go, so she worked hard on keeping a small smile on her face, hoping not to have another article online analysing her ‘resting bitch face’.
Clara barely heard the presenter’s words as her heart beat too fast, waiting to see which actor’s name would be announced.
They had watched all the nominated movies, and she had been convinced that Taylor was the best actor, although she would be the first to admit that she was biased.
The funniest part coming up to the night had been Taylor practising his ‘gracious loser face’, so no one after the evening could analyse how he had reacted and say that he was a bad loser if the award went to someone else. Clara had practised too and was terrible, concluding that if he lost, she would just lean over and hug him so no one could see her face.
When the moment came, Clara and Taylor’s fingers were twined together, and neither moved as the envelope was opened.
“And the winner of best actor in a leading role is,” The pause felt like a lifetime before they finally said, “Taylor Anderson. Dreamless Sleep.”
Neither Clara nor Taylor moved, both frozen in total shock, until Clara turned to him and said, “It’s you.”
Taylor’s stupor broke, and he nodded, getting to his feet and pulling her up with him as applause and cheers rang through the theatre. He stared down into her eyes, ignoring everyone around him, and bent down to kiss her gently on the lips, then leaned his forehead onto hers, gazing into her eyes as he smiled.
Clara grinned back until her gaze was caught by Damien, who was right next to Taylor, jumping with delight, waiting for his turn to congratulate him. She pulled away to allow the director his moment with Taylor.
“Well done. You deserve this, Taylor.” Mr Atrosky pulled Taylor into an embrace, thumping him on the back.
“Thank you.” Taylor returned his hug, then stepped away and turned back to Clara, dropping a last swift kiss on her lips before he strode up onto the stage, looking a little shell-shocked.
The presenter handed over the Oscar and congratulated Taylor, stepping back to allow the actor to have his moment in the spotlight alone.
Standing in front of the microphone, Taylor looked around at the audience for a few seconds, breathing deeply. From where Clara was sitting, she could see the tremble in his hands where he held his Oscar, but when he began talking, his voice was calm and clear.
“Thank you so much for this honour. I will keep this speech short, as the band have been overworked this evening.”
A chuckle rippled around the theatre as he referred to the band, who started playing when people’s speeches got too long to encourage them off the stage.
“Thank you, Damien Atrosky, for creating such a wonderful role. Thank you, Devon, for being such a talented acting partner. Thank you to all the other actors who worked so hard to make this movie the masterpiece that I think it is. Thank you to the crew who all worked so tirelessly. Thank you especially to Tony from security, whose Nonna makes the best Italian food I’ve ever eaten, and no, I did not tell my trainer that I went to her house for many Sunday lunches.”
Another ripple of laughter spread through the audience.
“Thank you, Mom, for supporting me and encouraging me to dream big. And lastly, I’m most thankful for taking this role, not because of the Oscar it’s given me, but because of the woman I met preparing for it. Thank you, Clara, for taking a chance on me and this crazy life and standing by my side.”
Clara couldn’t stop the tears that formed in her eyes when she heard his words, and she fished in her handbag for the tissue she had stashed there as she knew she would cry at some point in the evening.
With a final wave to the audience, he gazed down at Clara, holding the gold statue aloft. She blew a kiss to him before he strode off the stage.
The rest of the ceremony had been a blur to Clara. She hadn’t known how long Taylor would be gone, and he missed Damien Atrosky winning the Oscar for Best Director, but he was back in his seat, clutching his gold statue in time to see Devon win her category for Best Actress and then the movie Dreamless Sleep winning the Oscar for best picture. He joined the cast of the film as they leapt onto the stage behind Damien while the director made another speech to thank everyone.
The rest of the evening flew past; Taylor and Clara had been shepherded from their seats to the Governor’s ball. They had managed to grab some food, had taken a million selfies with other famous people, and watched his Oscar being engraved with his name.
When Taylor finally whispered into her ear that he wanted to leave, she smiled broadly and agreed.
They had decided at the start of the evening that they would hop in the limo, where Luke would have food and drink waiting for them. Relax for a while as they were driven to the Vanity Fair party, where Taylor was expected to make an appearance and spend an hour there before making their escape.
They had no idea where Gloria had disappeared to, having last seen her in the corner with some of her Hollywood mums club, so they could only assume she had gone somewhere to cause havoc, and they would likely see her at the after-party.
Clara sat in the limo, leaning back against the seat, her eyes closed, and her hand gripped in Taylor’s.
“This has been a brilliant day.” Clara grinned as she spoke, not bothering to open her eyes.
“There’s only one thing that could make it better.” Taylor’s voice rumbled.
Clara chuckled. “Oh yeah? What could possibly top you winning an Oscar?”
“You need to open your eyes for it.”
Clara felt Taylor shift in his seat as he spoke, so his knees were pressed up against hers.
“Oh really?” She sat up and opened her eyes, staring into Taylor’s bright blue gaze, which was fixed on hers.
“Walking into your operating theatre was the best thing that ever happened in my life. Better than any role I’ve ever played. Better than any award I could ever win.”
His face was so serious that Clara’s heart skipped a beat. Was he going to? No, surely not. They had only been together for nine months.
Taylor continued talking, “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you. I will always love you. Will you marry me?”
Clara’s heart stopped beating, and her breath stilled in her chest, and for the second time that evening, tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.
She didn’t even notice that he held a blue box in his hand, open to show a beautiful ring, a single one-point-five-carat solitaire diamond sparkling brightly, even in the dim light, with a rose gold band studded with smaller diamonds. It was a very modest ring when compared to most Hollywood engagement rings, but he knew her well and knew she wouldn’t wear anything bigger, and even the size he had bought, she would probably tell him it was too big.
Her eyes didn’t leave his when she answered. “Yes.”
Taking her hand, he pulled the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. Then he pulled her towards him, leaning his forehead on hers and staring into her eyes.
“I love you, Clara Upford.”
Clara’s reply was immediate, “I love you, Taylor Anderson.”