Chapter 20
WATCHING TOBIAS STROLL on stage in his midnight-blue tux, with his salt-and-pepper hair gleaming under the lights, felt like an out-of-body experience.
Greta’s stomach performed several cartwheels.
She rubbed her eyes to assure herself it really was him.
His slightly wonky smile, leisurely walk and azure-blue eyes were all present and correct, though he looked a lot smaller in real life.
She supposed she was used to seeing him on the big screen.
‘Tobias?’ Greta hissed to Nora. ‘He’s really here?’
‘Well, he was your co-star.’ Nora nodded. ‘We have to impress him tonight. I need him on my books. Do everything in your power to reel him in.’
My co-star? Wow.
Greta stared back at the stage, her mind reeling. They’d been in the movie together? What kind of scenes had they shared? Was the film a period drama? Action in space? Oh god, had she taken her clothes off?
Nora’s voice cut through her panic. ‘If you’re feeling nervous, just pretend the audience are a row of potatoes. Or naked. It works wonders.’
Greta attempted it, but the tip was too bizarre to help.
Tobias took the microphone, his voice as smooth as hot milk.
‘Thank you, everyone. It’s an honour to be here this evening, celebrating this film and the incredible talent behind it.
And I’m not just talking about yours truly,’ he said with a self-depreciating laugh and a wink.
‘I am, of course, speaking about the wonderful lady who is so deserving of this award, voted for by you guys. But firstly, let’s take a look at her brilliance in action. ’
The lights dimmed, the curtains slid farther apart, and the screen lit up, casting a silver glow across the audience’s faces. When Greta’s own face appeared, she wished she could curl up like an armadillo and roll into the orchestra pit.
A few brief highlights from other films appeared on the screen first. Apparently, she’d starred in a few romcoms, a Victorian melodrama, a whodunnit, and a vampire/slasher movie.
Greta hadn’t thought she had any flaws in Mapleville, until her face was projected several metres high. Suddenly, every pore, every line, and every hair on her face was magnified, making even her smallest imperfections impossible to ignore.
Even though she looked better than she had in years, the experience was mortifying—far worse than spotting fresh wrinkles in her bathroom mirror in Longmill.
Next came a trailer for the film she was being honoured for. It was a sequel to the shark movie she’d seen Tobias starring in. Deep Sea Fury 2.
There Greta was, skiing on frothy waves in an orange swimsuit, her face twisted in anguish as she spotted a fin rising above the water. She thrashed in the waves, screaming prettily as she bobbed below the surface, until Tobias heroically rescued her.
The scene shifted, and now they were kissing passionately, tangled in the bedsheets. Greta’s cheeks burned, and she hoped Jim wasn’t watching. Had she really snogged Tobias Blake? Damn. She couldn’t remember a thing about it.
Unable to bear watching herself any longer, she wrenched her eyes away, sweeping them across the audience to watch their reactions instead. Most people were enraptured, leaning forward in their seats, their eyes fixed on the screen. However, a couple in the front row both stifled yawns.
The woman cradled a toddler to her chest, resting her chin on top of his head. Her eyes were half-closed with exhaustion, while her husband wore a similar dazed expression. They appeared to be here in body, but not particularly in mind.
A flurry of memories rushed over Greta, taking her back to the past. All the sleepless nights with Lottie as a baby, the endless juggling, longing for just one romantic dinner with Jim without being interrupted by fans.
She remembered trying to read a bedtime story to Lottie, only for her daughter to ask if they were rich, because a school friend wanted to know. Mapleville might look perfect, but it seemed like the demands of early parenthood were the same everywhere.
Fame, Greta was now beginning to remember, hadn’t been so glamorous when she’d struggled to balance it with family life. She’d forgotten a lot of these messy and inconvenient moments when looking at them through rose-tinted glasses.
Greta glanced at Tobias again. He was looking at his watch rather than the trailer, shuffling a foot as if he had better things to do.
When the screen went blank and the lights came back on, applause ricocheted around the room. Greta let go of a long breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
A spotlight swept across the stage, settling on the tips of her shoes.
Tobias extended his hand towards her. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said. ‘I give you the wonderful Greta Perks. Please join me in applauding this well-deserved recognition of her talents—the Gold Star People’s Award.’
Unlike her pretend ceremony at the coffee morning, this time Greta stood fixed to the spot, feeling like her bones were setting to stone. She didn’t want to walk onto the stage, and only moved when Nora gave her a small shove.
She found herself facing the man she’d admired as a performer for a long time. If she was honest, Tobias occasionally popped into her dreams, too, leaving her feeling rather flushed and flustered when she woke up.
From his easy smile, Greta could see how much he was relishing the attention. After a few moments of basking too long, Tobias quietened the crowd with a raised hand.
When he presented her with the award, Greta felt like she was in a trance.
It was a heavy, gleaming gold star on a plinth that looked rather plasticky up close.
Tobias wrapped his arms around her, holding her so tightly she felt her spine pop.
She could smell the cologne on his neck, something lemony with a hint of leather.
‘You look fantastic,’ Tobias whispered, followed by what sounded like a purr. ‘Let’s grab a drink together afterward, away from all the minions.’
Greta tried not to shudder. Minions? Is that what he thought of his fans?
She took the award and clutched it so tightly her knuckles turned white. Standing in front of the microphone, she blinked against the bright lights. The room blurred before her eyes, and for a moment, she felt so wobbly she wondered if she was slipping back to Iris’s coffee shop.
What do I say? What do I do?
Her mind was a blank.
She opened her mouth, saying the first thing that came to mind.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, wincing at how reedy her voice sounded.
‘This award means more than I can put into words. I’m so grateful to all of you, for your support, for believing in me.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so loved.
’ Greta placed her hand on her chest. ‘To be honest, this all feels like a dream. Wonderful, yes, but also very strange.’
She felt like she was rambling, yet also speaking the truth. Glancing down at the award, she noticed a deep scratch on its plinth and ran her finger across it.
Greta carried on with her speech. ‘What matters to me most are the genuine connections I have in my life, my friends and my family. I’m so proud of my daughter, Lottie, and my husband, Jim.
I like to believe that families always find their way back to each other.
’ A tear pricked her eyes. ‘At least, that’s what I hope for. ’
Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Tobias shaking his head as if bewildered.
‘I wish I could stand here and say I’m ready for the future,’ she continued.
‘That I know exactly where I’m going and what I’m doing.
But I don’t. I’m here, celebrating, with no idea what happens next.
And I think . . . most of us feel that way.
Don’t we? We chase after things, we long for things, when maybe what really matters has been here all along.
’ She hesitated and gave a small laugh. ‘Or maybe I’m just talking nonsense . . .’
Silence confronted her. People in the crowd looked at each other in confusion. Someone sliced a finger across their throat. Cut.
‘Thanks so much for this award,’ Greta said, managing to rattle off a few more sentences, thanking Tobias for his kind words. With a final wave, she hurried off the stage, feeling like she’d left part of herself behind as a human sacrifice to the audience.
It didn’t seem to be the speech anyone had expected. A long pause hung in the air before polite applause eventually broke out. It followed Greta as she stepped into the wings.
Nora stood waiting for her, holding two glasses of champagne. ‘That was, um, spectacular, darling,’ she said, handing Greta a flute as if it was another trophy. ‘Well-done. You were born for this life.’
Greta wasn’t so sure. She set down her award and gripped the chilled stem of her glass. She sipped the champagne, then instantly coughed and spluttered. It tasted sharp and acidic, just like vinegar.
Nora stared at her. ‘What’s wrong?’
Greta pulled a face. ‘It’s disgusting, like something you’d sprinkle on fish and chips.’
‘Really? It tastes wonderful to me,’ Nora said, savouring a long sip.
Greta tentatively sniffed her glass. She tried the champagne again, but this time it tasted delicious, crisp and citrusy. She frowned and shook her head. Were her taste buds at fault, or was it something else?
She’d spent the last ten years dreaming of moments like this, yearning for recognition or simply to be noticed. So why did it feel so peculiar? So empty?
All she wanted to do now was go home, pull on her com- fiest sweatshirt, and curl up on the sofa under a blanket. She wanted to wipe off her make-up, take off the tiara, and tie her hair back with a scrunchie. They were the little things that didn’t feel possible in Mapleville.
Had she spent all this time gilding the past, carefully selecting the best moments from her career and family life to dwell on, like choosing photos to display in an album? The ones that didn’t measure up were shoved in a box under the bed.
Greta swirled the champagne, watching the bubbles rise and pop. Everything around her now felt like an echo, a shadow of the life she used to have. It was a fading projection of the one she’d thought she wanted.
Then, out of nowhere, a thought struck her, sharp and unexpected, like a crash of thunder on a summer day.
I don’t want the spotlight any longer.
Greta let the revelation sink in, solid and true. The limelight wasn’t for her.
So, what did she want?