Chapter 52
52
JESSE
Now
Jessica Fletcher! Your dad’s hero!
Jesse wasn’t used to his mother replying to a message straight away; she must have been out in Arles, perhaps at the theatre with a friend, so she had phone reception.
Jesse had sent his mother a photo of himself, crouched down at Angela Lansbury’s star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, giving a big thumbs up, and what his dad ascribed to Dash Draxler as a ‘shit-eating grin’.
I know right!
Jesse added a star-struck eyes emoji afterwards. He didn’t know Caryn had actually laughed out loud when she’d opened the photo. He followed up with:
Are you OK?
Yes thank you darling. Just in Marseille with Marcheline.
Cool. Give her my best!
Likewise to Angela! Safe flight home darling. Love you.
Love you too Mum x
Jesse pocketed his phone, smiled to himself and walked a few steps further until another star caught his eye.
Geraldine Byrne.
Minnie’s mother.
How had he not noticed that? The same light green eyes and wild beauty, even if Geraldine was older, wiser, with Titian-esque hair. Jesse thought of all the films and plays he might have seen her in. He thought about how Minnie’s childhood might not have been that different from his own. Noisier perhaps. Less long-distance travel. Not many people knew the Venn diagram of pride, prejudice and total embarrassment that came with having a famous parent. At least Jesse’s childhood could be more anonymous. He imagined it must be hard for anyone who’d been in a Harry Potter film to grab a quiet coffee anywhere in the world.
He wondered if Minnie had been on this spot this week, to see her mother’s star. She’d come all this way. Had she crouched down and taken a thumbs-up photo too? Did she even know it was there?
He went to take a photo, in case he could one day share it with Minnie, but then he realised that was weird, so he left his phone in his pocket and carried on his way.
At the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Franklin Avenue, Jesse looked up and saw the Hollywood sign in the hills beyond the buildings, Griffith Observatory on the other side of the canyon.
Do I bother?
He thought about the same disheartening wait, the unlikelihood that Minnie would ever come, even if he had 365 sunsets in which to wait for her. Then he felt the weight of Saraswati in his pocket, almost as if she were prodding him in the thigh. This was what he had come for. Saraswati and his dad. If he could ask his dad his advice right now, he would tell him to climb the bloody hill and go see that view again.
The trail’s terrain felt familiar, even though Jesse was taking a third and different path to the top. He had the sensation of déjà vu, as if he were revisiting a dream from a different angle. The dry brush. The warm sunshine. His thirst. The winding steps. Greeting hikers, overtaking them or smiling as they passed, as they went about their days.
It was 5.40p.m. when Jesse got to the Observatory and walked to the Astronomers Monument. The serene men still stood guard and welcomed him with an imaginary salute. He walked past the sundial and its neat lawn, looking at all the faces he passed, which were all different, but every face blurred into one. He found the staircase to the upper West Terrace, which he crossed, heading to the wall that had the best vantage point over the lawns.
Then he saw a figure, leaning against the white wall, her back to him. Hair slicked to the side, an incredible black sequin suit, vertiginous gunmetal heels.
It can’t be.
He thought his mind was playing tricks on him; maybe that wasn’t her at breakfast; it definitely wasn’t her now.
Except she turned around, as if she knew he was standing there, his expression agog. Finally, he cleared his throat.
‘I didn’t think you’d ever come.’