Chapter Eleven
By the time Mike drove me back to the house that night, my brain felt completely frazzled. This was already feeling like a very tumultuous shoot and it hadn’t even started.
‘Sorry.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m not really in the zone this evening, am I?’
He looked at me in the rear-view mirror. ‘You’ve had a busy day, I don’t blame you for being a bit quiet. It’ll be nice to have some time to yourself this evening.’
‘It’ll be wonderful,’ I said, dreamily, picturing the quiet of the house, unpacking my suitcases which got deposited there this morning, cooking something delicious with the provisions the studio supplied. As we pulled into the drive, I could see the lights were on downstairs. ‘That’s strange.’
‘I must have left them on when I dropped off your cases.’ Mike frowned. ‘Not very environmentally friendly of me . . . they’ve got me driving this electric car and I’m still leaving the lights on!’
‘It’s all right,’ I said, hopping out of the car. ‘See you in the morning!’
‘You have a restful evening, Emily, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘I will!’ I kept my tone bright but the truth was, I was already getting a sinking feeling about why the lights were on, and as I approached the door, the noise from inside only made matters worse.
Refusing to ring the doorbell to my own (albeit temporary) home, I opened the key safe with the code the studio had emailed me, finding only one of two sets of keys in there.
I let out an involuntary sigh and let myself in.
‘She’s home!’ my dad called at the sound of the door closing behind me and within seconds my mum swooped down on me.
‘Hello, darling! How was it?’ she asked, but before I could answer, she gestured around the hallway of the house. ‘This is nice, isn’t it?! Even bigger than the last one!’
‘Only the best for our Ems, isn’t that right?’ Dad beamed and squeezed me himself.
‘Did you let yourselves in with the spare key?’ I asked, trying not to sound annoyed.
I’ll admit it: I had historically struggled to set boundaries with my parents, but this time I hadn’t even had the chance to set them.
I didn’t even know that this was a boundary I needed to enforce; ask before inviting yourselves in? .
‘Yes, love, I’m still copied on some of your emails from the studio so I had the code! We thought we would surprise you on your first night in the house!’ Mum looked at me and her expression drops. ‘Why, aren’t you happy to see us?’
Of course I should be happy to see them! They’re my parents! But gosh was I looking forward to some alone time.
‘I bloody told you we should check with her first, didn’t I?’ Dad said before I could reply, nudging Mum with his elbow.
‘I thought it would be a nice surprise! I didn’t know we weren’t wanted,’ Mum said, tightly.
‘It’s not that! I’m just tired and I don’t want to be disappointing company.’ That seemed to be enough to satisfy her.
‘Oh, you could never disappoint us, darling!’ The pressure of being an only child was at least doubled in my case by being not just an only child, but an only child who had achieved something most parents could only dream of. It could be a bit much sometimes.
Over dinner, Mum cut straight to the chase.
‘Have they told you anything more about this kiss?’ she asked.
‘No, but I’m sure it’s all under control.
It doesn’t change the script I have. I think we’re filming it towards the end of the shoot.
’ The thought of it made me feel a little queasy with nerves, knowing the added pressure I felt to make it ‘spicy’ enough, to justify my place in the Wonderwick Universe, to show that I wasn’t just a chaste, stuck-up actress playing a chaste, stuck-up character. I could be sexy, too.
‘So there’s still time to get Glen to sort it out? Get them to keep it like it is in the book?’
‘I’ve been thinking about it and I don’t know if that’s totally necessary,’ I said, calmly. ‘It might be good for the film . . . and for me, too.’
‘You don’t want to be giving yourself away like that, do you?’ She looked aghast.
‘Mum, it’s hardly like I’m doing full-frontal nudity,’ I laughed. It was like she couldn’t see that her stressing out about it would only make me stress out about it, rather than reassure me that it was all going to be just fine, nothing scary or out of my comfort zone.
‘Hmmm, well, give these Hollywood types an inch and they take a mile, that’s what I say.’
‘I’m not going to do anything I don’t feel comfortable with,’ I reassured her.
‘’Course she’s not, Ruth. She’s a big girl, she can make her own decisions,’ Dad piped up.
‘You’ve changed your tune!’ Mum scoffed. ‘It wasn’t two weeks ago that you were trying to persuade her what project to do next.’ She was right, of course.
‘So you’re gonna do that Irish film, then?’ Dad asked, shaking his head but smiling at the same time.
‘I’m sorry, Dad, I just can’t do . . .’ I swallowed, the name of the film almost too stupid to say out loud. ‘Dinky Daffy and the Detective Squad. I need something a bit more challenging next. And anyway, I really don’t think I would pass for sixteen.’
‘They clearly thought you would! Didn’t hear any objections from that casting director!’
‘I know . . . but the main reason is that I want to try something different.’
‘I don’t understand what’s wrong with doing more of what you’re already good at,’ Mum said.
‘Maybe I want to find out what else I could be good at?’ I offered, hopefully.
‘It’s your decision, Ems, it’s always your decision.
I was just telling you what I thought would be the most lucrative, you know?
Of course I think you should be chasing the big Hollywood money!
Then you can retire when you’re twenty-five,’ he said with a wink.
This was always his grand desire for me – that I manage my money in a way that means I can retire at twenty-five.
He was a financial adviser, so spent all his time thinking about other people’s money, including mine.
‘I like my work! I’m not looking for a way out!’ I protested.
‘Anyway.’ Mum leaned in, conspiratorially. ‘What’s that Darcy Jackson like?’
I swallowed, trying not to let my anxieties around her show, even to my parents. ‘She’s nice enough.’
Mum wrinkled her nose. ‘She doesn’t seem like a very serious actress, does she?’
‘Bloody LA socialites,’ Dad chipped in.
‘I guess if the producers think she’s up for it, then she must be.’
‘Or her dad leaned on them,’ Mum suggests. ‘We know that’s how things get done in Hollywood.’
‘Well, I have to work with her, so I should probably try to be her friend. Not that we have much in common, but . . .’ It was then I noticed that both my parents were sipping from wine glasses.
‘Which one of you is going to drive home?’ It wasn’t the longest drive in the world but it was already getting late.
They looked at each other and then back at me.
‘Well, we were thinking we would stay here and keep you company on your first night. It’s such a big house and you’re here all on your own,’ Mum said.
I couldn’t muster the energy to fight them, and realistically there was no way they were going to be leaving now.
‘I’ve made up the bed in the room opposite the master bedroom.
’ Well, that was that then. A sleepover with my parents.
‘All right,’ I said, trying not to sound too weary. ‘Thank you for making dinner.’
‘You know, I can stay longer if you want me to,’ Mum said, expectantly. ‘Just because Dad has to go to work, doesn’t mean I have to leave.’
‘I think it’s probably better if I just focus on the job for now, Mum.’ I tried to give her a reassuring smile. ‘Mike’s picking me up early again tomorrow so I might not see you when I wake up.’
But she was determined to give it one more shot. ‘And you’re quite sure you don’t want me to come along tomorrow?’
I looked at her, my eyes pleading. ‘It’s my workplace . . . it’s the first day of shooting . . . I’m an adult?’ I said, slightly disbelieving I had to say it at all.
‘No, no, of course.’
I instantly felt terrible but I couldn’t back down, otherwise they would just move in here full time and I would never be able to grow up.
‘I’m going to unpack . . . don’t want to be living out of suitcases for the whole shoot,’ I said, standing up from the table, not looking either of them in the eye. No matter how lightly I tried to tread on the stairs, as I headed to my room I still had the sensation of being a sulky teenager.
I set about unpacking my suitcases, hanging my clothes in the wardrobes, filling drawers, trying to make the place look a bit more homely.
My mum was right, the house was big, and part of me wondered what it would be like living here all alone for the duration of the shoot.
Well, I certainly wasn’t going to find out tonight.
Finally, I flopped on the bed, which had already been made for me, and wondered if I should go back downstairs.
Instead, I unzipped my suitcase and extracted a book, a classic Swedish thriller the second assistant director Maria had recommended to me on the last Wonderwick film.
I read a few pages and was instantly sucked in, and before I knew it an hour had gone by.
I took out my phone to WhatsApp Maria and tell her how much I was enjoying it, then got sucked into Instagram and started scrolling, idly clicking on Max’s Close Friends story.
One minute ago he had posted a video so noisy my thumb instinctively found the ‘volume down’ button, and once I had got over the audio assault on my ears, I realised what I was looking at.
Max, Tommy, Josh, Courtney and Darcy were at a bar in Shoreditch. Together. Without me.
While I was hiding from my parents in my bedroom, my colleagues were out partying.
I mean, really, have you heard of anything more pathetic?
I was clearly considered so boring and uptight that they didn’t even think to ask me if I wanted to go.
I was twenty years old! I should have been out with them!
God! This was the worst, the absolute worst. Things needed to change around here.
I mean, I know I said all I wanted was a quiet night at home to decompress, but if the choice was between feeling like the resident goody two-shoes and having to dance on a table in a club, I think I had reached the point where I’d choose dancing on the table.
The truth was, I felt like I had been forced into a role I had never really agreed to.
I mean, yes, I loved to be prepared, I loved to work hard, I loved to learn and read and do things properly, and yes, I liked the people around me to take things as seriously as I did, but .
. . there was surely more to me than that?
At least, I thought there was. How could I shake off this image?
How could I break out of this role that I’d ended up in? I never auditioned for this.
Just then, there was a knock at my bedroom door. ‘Em?’ my dad’s voice called from outside.
‘Come in,’ I shouted back, throwing my phone onto the bed.
‘I just wanted to say goodnight before we turn in.’ He smiled. ‘Sorry for . . . you know . . . I think we thought it would be nice . . .’ He looked a little sheepish and I instantly felt terrible for being ungrateful. And yet! They still should not have let themselves into my house!
‘It was nice,’ I reassured him. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just figuring things out at the moment and maybe one of those things is . . .’ How could I even explain it? ‘Doesn’t matter.’ I shook my head.
Dad lingered by the door, and I could tell he had something on his mind. ‘There was just one more thing,’ he said. ‘You’re all right if I move some money around, aren’t you? Just temporarily? I mean, you’re not short at the moment?’
‘No, that’s fine.’ I shrugged. ‘What’s it for?’
‘Interesting-looking new fund that I’ve got a couple of clients to invest in. Thought I might as well see what happens with some of your money too?’
‘Sure!’ I said, brightly, trying to make up for the lukewarm reception to my parents coming over.
‘Great, you’re a star. Night night, my darling girl.’
‘Night, night, Dad.’
I lay in bed, trying to sleep but finding my brain whirring away, trying to problem-solve, figure out what I needed to do. Eventually the tossing and turning got too much and I took out my phone.
‘Emily?’ Chloe said, urgently when she picked up. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine!’ I said, realising the time was verging on the antisocial. ‘Sorry, I know it’s late.’
‘For you it is! Not for me, don’t worry about that. What’s up?’
‘I’m wondering if I should try to be a bit more . . . I don’t know, adventurous?’
‘OK,’ she said, slowly, trying to interpret me.
‘I just wonder if I’m getting a bit . . . stale, you know? Clothes, boys, partying, all that.’
‘Emily!’ she chided me. ‘Don’t be silly.’
‘I’m not! I’m serious. I don’t mean anything crazy, but . . . maybe something to keep me a bit fresh in the way people see me?’
She thought for a moment. ‘Well, I’m sure there are lots of boys that would gnaw their arm off to go out with you. I bet I can think of someone for a strategic alliance, shall we say.’
‘Like a showmance?’
‘Exactly! It’s nothing serious, and obviously we’d make sure you liked each other, but that could be something to keep you in the public eye, right? Boost your profile outside of Wonderwick?’
I was nervous, but just about desperate to give it a go. ‘Sure, I trust you.’
‘Phenomenal! I love playing matchmaker! Leave it with me, I’ll come up with a sexy little list for you! Emily, you are truly full of surprises. Anyway, you feeling OK about shooting tomorrow? Everything under control?’
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that this exact conversation was a product of me feeling that everything was not under control. ‘Totally,’ I said. ‘I’ll let you go. I suppose I should be getting some sleep.’
‘Leave it with me. You’ve got a big day ahead!’
And didn’t I know it.