Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
LUKE
I t’s been one week since we shopped in Dorchester and I last saw Jessy.
When she dropped me back to the manor, she appeared distracted and refused my invitation to come inside, citing a prior engagement.
We have been caught in our own agendas ever since and while Jessy works on the business plan for Granthaven, I have been working on my fitness so I can return to the only thing I know — football.
Morgana and Jasper have been concentrating on the show and Steven has been liaising between me and the club and organising my diary, which he excels at.
He isn’t just my agent, he’s a good friend and is the first point of contact for anyone wishing to book me for events, sponsorships and general enquiries and we get a lot of those.
Before my ankle snapped, I was the top goalscorer at Manchester Rangers and there were several clubs all bidding for me in the January transfer window. Arsenal included. That amuses me because I’m guessing I would be more popular around here and yet I have no desire to leave the club I supported as a boy. I am living my dream, but as is often with dreams, they can change into a nightmare just as quickly.
“Hey.”
Morgana heads into the kitchen, where I’m taking a break, and smiles. “How are you, hun?”
“I’m good, thanks. What about you?”
“It’s all good. Tonight we’re hosting the village carol evening where they will assemble in the hallway and we will hand out cookies and mulled wine as we listen to their angelic choir.”
I raise my eyes and she grins. “Trust me, it will be so wholesome and make the most amazing segment in the show.”
“How’s that coming along?”
Aside from the odd time I’m required to talk on camera, this is Morgana’s show, and she is putting one hundred per cent of her efforts into it. The house itself has been transformed in a very short time, courtesy of the production crew and it is tasteful, homely and screams Christmas.
There is the huge tree that sparkles in the hallway, reflected in the various mirrors she has placed there. The wood panelling gleams and the air is scented with cinnamon and pine cones, the huge swag decorating the giant staircase being a particular triumph. The fire burns in the woodburner, creating a warm welcome and the rooms off from it are equally good.
Jasper really knows his stuff, and I continually remind myself that this is all a film set. It will be torn down as quickly as it went up, but it allows me to imagine what it could be like with a lot of money and vision spent on it.
“Have you seen Jessy?” Morgana asks, and I shake my head.
“No. I think she’s avoiding me.”
I remind myself of the many texts I’ve sent her, checking if she needs anything more as an excuse for communication than anything. She is always polite but keeps it formal and my heart sinks when I realise I’m not very good at this. It’s why I’m still single, I suppose, and readily accepted Steven’s plan to pretend to be Morgana’s boyfriend. It suited me – suited us and yet now it doesn’t suit me at all.
I want to be free.
“She’s coming tonight. Angie told me they would both be here. In fact, in her words, they wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“What am I going to do, Morgana?”
I sigh. “This is an impossible situation. How can I show any interest in Jessy without coming clean about our arrangement?”
“It will all work out.”
She tries to reassure me, but I’m not so sure.
“You see, it’s probably best if we let things ride as they are because the new year is uncertain.”
She’s not wrong there and as I drain the last dregs of my coffee, I face the prospect of an afternoon concentrating on my fitness.
As I make to leave, Morgana reminds me, “Make yourself Christmas carol ready at six, Luke. The producers want it in one take if possible.”
As I leave the room, it strikes me that nothing in my life is real. Even Christmas is being staged and if the public knew just how far we have gone, I doubt they would be impressed.
Smoke and mirrors. That is exactly what we live by, and I don’t want to do it anymore.
The show, the girlfriend and this house, are all make believe and I already know that when I return to Manchester, life will carry on as before. I will perform and go through the motions of acting a part and outwardly I have everything. Inwardly, I am empty and severely lacking of substance and in my mind the only person who can save me from that is the one woman I can’t stop thinking about.
As requested, I head downstairs at six pm and find the hallway full of the crew, running around, rigging up lighting and testing camera angles. Morgana is dressed in red velvet leggings this time, with a Christmas sweater with her hair curled to her shoulders, her make-up perfect and her lips painted red. She also smells amazing and her brilliant white smile welcomes me as I push through the crowd towards her.
“Luke, darling.” She grabs my hand and her eyes sparkle. “This is going to be epic. I can’t wait to open the door to Christmas.”
I raise my brow and she giggles. “That’s the title Jasper wants to name the episode. Opening the door to Christmas.”
She appears so animated I smile and she whispers above the general hum, “The carollers will be provided with an old-fashioned lantern and a book of carols. Their feet will crunch under the gravel as they crowd around the front door, the potted trees on either side glowing with the soft warm ambiance of fairy lights. The giant wreath on the door will also be lit and as the chief caroller, the one who holds the donation bucket, Mr Spalding, I’m guessing–” She shrugs. “Anyway, he will knock loudly on the door and we will open it as a team and gasp in delight at the pure vision of wholesome innocence before us.”
My heart sinks. What the hell!
She has a dreamy expression on her face as she whispers reverently, “We will stand together with your arm draped over my shoulder. I’ll have tears in my eyes as we listen to the heavenly angelic tones of the villagers. As they serenade us with their voices, we will gaze fondly into one another’s eyes and offer a gentle, loving smile as we turn to smile our appreciation for their efforts.”
I take a deep calming breath as she gasps, “Then, when they finish, I will invite them in for an encore around the amazing tree, the shot firmly focused on the door opening into a Christmas paradise with the tree at the centre of the shot.”
“Morgana – I –”
She carries on relentlessly.
“As the fire roars its welcome and the tree lights sparkle, there will be beautifully wrapped gifts under the tree, colour coordinated, of course. The scent of warm mince pies and mulled wine will permeate the air and when the carollers cease singing soft old-fashioned Christmas tunes, Nat King Cole will play softly in the background of the merry excited chatter.”
Before I can even express my dubious opinion on this, Jasper rushes in and shouts, “Places everyone! The villagers are heading this way and I need Sasha and Adrian outside pronto to distribute the lanterns and carol sheets.”
Morgana claps her hands with excitement and I don’t have the heart to ruin her carefully contrived moment, but to be honest, this is the last thing I want to do and pray for a Christmas miracle to spare my disbelieving heart.