Chapter 27
27
DAY FOUR
Now
Jesse rushed through the lofty green gates of the Jardin du Luxembourg and wound along the sandy gravel path looking for Minnie. He was fifteen minutes later than he had said he would be – he hated being late. He hated it when people he was meeting were late. And he hated that he didn’t have Minnie’s phone number to text her and tell her.
Enough with the silly game now.
He couldn’t see her beyond the beds of orange and yellow flowers, or the spiky dahlias; he couldn’t see her by the pond, where gleeful children were setting wooden sailboats down onto the water. So he kept walking, past neat slopes of grass fenced off by trim barriers ankle height, past flowerbeds of pink and purple blooms: pansies, geraniums and petunias, walking a lap around the park under the palms and fig trees, panicking with each step, until he finally spotted her. Minnie’s denim jacket was slung on the back of a sage green metal chair, the low curve of her black ballerina top revealing the grace of her spine. Her legs were curled underneath her as if she had folded herself into origami. Her short black bob was askew, revealing the most exquisite neck.
Jesse felt a surge of relief, until he noticed that there was a sadness in the rounding of Minnie’s shoulders. He stopped. He didn’t want to make her jump – he could sense something was wrong even before he saw her face.
‘Hey,’ Jesse said softly, reaching out to put his hand on her shoulder but stopping himself so sharply he almost flinched.
Minnie turned and looked up. Her smile was flat and polite. Inky trails on her cheekbones told tales of tears and weariness.
‘Hey,’ she replied flatly.
‘What happened?’ Jesse felt another stab of panic in the pit of his stomach.
Minnie’s eyes were glassy as she looked back at the ornamental urn on the wall in front of her. Fuchsia pink bougainvillea tumbled from it. She uncurled her legs, planted her boots on the floor and took a deep breath.
‘I am not thick-skinned enough for this,’ she said.
Jesse pulled up a chair next to her, the scraping sound of metal on gravel making Minnie shudder.
‘I think that’s why I fought it for so long.’
He sat down.
‘Fought what? What’s happened?’
Minnie threw a succession of small stones at the urn as if she were trying to hit a specific target.
‘Acting. Why did I come here? Why do I do it to myself?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I hate putting myself out there. I hate rejection. I’m scared of it all. I’m too scared to fucking fly, how could I think I could meet people like that in the best of circumstances and “perform” for them, let alone when I’m at my worst.’
Jesse put his backpack on the gravel underneath their chairs and leaned in, his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ He waited as they watched families and their wooden toy boats, their sails painted with the flags of Belgium, Japan and Sweden. A mother applauded her daughter. A security guard in a neat navy forage cap strolled with smiling authority at passers-by. ‘You don’t have to?—’
‘I should have listened to my parents.’
‘Why?’ Jesse was so confused. ‘I thought they supported you.’
‘They didn’t think he was all that. The director who “champions kickass women”.’ Minnie said it with a venom that threw Jesse. He hadn’t seen a poisonous side to her before. ‘He also tries to take advantage of them.’
‘God, what happened?’
‘I feel sick.’
‘Shit. Do you want me to get?—’
‘I can barely think about it.’ Minnie put her hand over her mouth.
‘It’s OK, you don’t need to tell me, but…’ Jesse looked around the park, feeling a little helpless. He looked to the handsome guard standing with his arms behind his back. ‘Is there anything I can do?’ There was a thickness in the still summer air. ‘Are you physically OK?’
Jesse thought a thousand years into his future. Of Ida and her descendants, fighting and battling through an army of faceless men.
Minnie’s stone hit the dot she was after on the urn.
‘Not really.’
She looked at Jesse and saw the panic on his face.
‘It’s OK, he didn’t touch me.’
Jesse exhaled at the sky.
‘Filthy fucker was in the bath. Asked me if I’d like to get in.’
‘What the fuck?! Was he naked?’
Minnie looked like she was going to be sick.
‘Sorry.’ Jesse let out an angry sigh. ‘Fuck!’
‘No, it’s not your fault. And yes, he was.’
Her pallor was almost green.
‘What about the casting director? Were you left on your own with him?’
‘It was just him. I was kept waiting. For hours, literally hours sitting there like a fucking lemon. It didn’t even look like I’d turned up on the right day, it didn’t look like anyone was expecting me. Eventually I was led to his suite. And left alone there while he was in the bath.’
‘ What? ’
‘I’m not joking.’
‘Clearly not. Nothing about this is funny. Slimy fucking c?—’
‘I have no idea whether it was an elaborate set-up or opportunism. Either way he’s a disgusting little man and he’s got it coming to him. Somehow.’
‘Damn right. Shit.’ Jesse shook his head in disbelief. ‘How did you get out of there?’
‘I told him to go fuck himself and walked out.’
Jesse sighed. ‘Well done. Bloody hell, you could have been paralysed.’
Jesse watched Minnie, staring ahead. Eyes transfixed.
‘Look, why don’t you report?—’
‘No Jesse, I don’t want to tell anyone yet and I don’t need fixing!’ she said defensively. ‘I know that’s how it looked when we met. The first time. Probably every time. I know I’m a total mess and I have just blown my fucking career, but… but I can sort it out.’
Minnie’s phone went off, making her jump. It said Mama Bear on the screen. She rejected the call, switched her phone off, and put it in her bag. ‘It’s about to die anyway…’
Jesse wanted to touch her as much as he didn’t want to touch her. They sat side by side in silence.
‘JP wanted to fix me – he would throw money at “the problem”, to try to get my spark back, make me the perfect arm candy, this exciting prospect. “My ingénue”,’ she said as she curled her nose. ‘Just until the point I fell for him and then…’ She moved her fingers across her throat as if she was beheading herself.
Jesse shook his head. ‘Of course you don’t need fixing.’
He said it so resolutely, he was almost angry. He thought she was the perfect human being: brilliant, bright, funny, beautiful – and she had walked away from someone who had just committed a ghastly abuse of power.
‘I’m just wondering if we should go to the police, to make a statement?’
Minnie shook her head. ‘No.’
‘But what if?—’
‘No!’ She said it more sharply this time. ‘We’ve barely got four hours left in Paris. I do not want to spend them in a police station.’
Jesse nodded. ‘OK, well, when you’re ready, you can report it, you know. I’m pretty sure.’
‘Report him for what? He didn’t actually do anything. I don’t think it’s a crime for an adult to proposition an adult. No one will listen anyway.’
‘No, but you need to be heard.’
Minnie looked at him in confusion. ‘I see Tony every week. All I do is talk at him, at my friends, at you…’
Jesse shook his head. ‘That’s not what I meant.’
He pictured Minnie’s family – he didn’t know who they were but from what she’d said they sounded loud and chaotic and that it was hard for her to be heard among all the characters. Why had she been so happy to settle for someone as disgusting as her ex, just because he made her feel adored for ten minutes.
‘What do you mean?’
Jesse couldn’t put his finger on it, and she wasn’t a project to fix, even if he had helped her with her therapy homework.
‘I dunno. I just think you’re more powerful than you know.’
Minnie looked at him, her face softening.
‘I mean, you just told Hollywood’s adored Wim Fischer to fuck off. That’s powerful. Not many people would have had the guts.’
She smiled.
‘And look at all the things you’re doing to change what’s made you unhappy. You got help, made inroads, you went up to a fucking idiot shouting at a kid in a coffee shop and got him to pull himself together before an interview…’
‘Well I didn’t quite…’
‘Honestly, don’t even question yourself and what you’re doing. I’m sure you’re an exceptional actor. Keep on keeping on.’
Minnie nudged into Jesse with her arm.
‘Thank you.’
‘Ha, what do I know,’ he laughed.
Minnie narrowed her eyes at him. What had happened with his ex? What was the deal with them? Why couldn’t she ask him?
Jesse took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the sky.
Why the hell did he track fucking planes?
‘What’s going on with you and that app?’ Minnie half snapped. ‘Is it your wife?’ She hated the way the word wife clung to her lips.
Jesse smiled, almost bemused. ‘When do you have to be back in London?’
Minnie mentally ran through her diary.
‘I’m working at the races on Sunday, then it’s Wimbledon fortnight. I’ve obviously got the summer season down pat…’
Jesse was already buckling up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.
‘Why?’
‘Come on, I have an idea.’ Jesse stood up.
‘What?’
‘Let’s get out of here.’
Minnie looked up at him, his form silhouetted in the late and low afternoon sun.
‘What about dinner? Will we make our train?’
‘Don’t need it.’ Jesse extended an arm and held out his hand to help Minnie up.
‘I’m not going on a fucking aeroplane if that’s what you think.’ She took his hand and it felt comforting and it felt wonderful.
‘Come on…’