The Wonder of You

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Galway had been good for me. I loved the scale of the city, how friendly the people were, the many delicious places to eat, even the swim in the sea.

I had woken up on my last Sunday morning there with the intention of going for a long run, when a FaceTime call came through on my phone.

It was only when my mum’s name appeared on the screen that I realised I hadn’t been doing a good job of keeping in touch with my parents since I’d been in Ireland.

‘Hello, Mum!’ I greeted her cheerily waiting for her face to appear on the screen.

My run could wait, I wasn’t in a huge rush to get out and I assumed she wanted to gush with approval about the news stories about Ben and me.

But when eventually she appeared on the screen, she was sitting side by side next to my dad, and they didn’t look happy. At all. ‘What’s up?’

The pair of them glanced at each other, waiting for the other one to speak, but neither did. ‘What?’ I urged them, feeling my pulse quickening. Something was wrong.

‘We wanted to talk to you, sweetheart,’ Mum said, finally. ‘Obviously we would rather have this conversation in person but we don’t think it can wait much longer.’ I was coming home the following week, so whatever they had to say must have been pretty bad.

‘The thing is, love, the thing is—’ Dad tripped over his words. The tension was almost unbearable.

‘What? Please just tell me!’

‘When you get back from Ireland, we won’t be living together anymore,’ Dad said quickly.

I couldn’t imagine a stranger way to put it. To say what he seemed to be saying.

‘What? Why?’

‘There are a lot of reasons,’ Mum said, shaking her head, looking off to the side. I could imagine the picture she was looking at – a print of a Mark Rothko painting that hung in the living room. ‘There isn’t just one.’

‘For God’s sake, Ruth, just tell her!’ Dad burst out before burying his face in his hands.

‘What?’

‘It’s my fault,’ he wailed, and I realised Mum was stony-faced.

‘What have you done?’ I urged him.

‘I’ve . . . I’ve had a bit of a problem with . . .’ He cleared his throat. ‘With gambling.’

‘What do you mean?! What gambling?’

‘It’s so stupid.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s so bloody stupid.

It’s just too easy. You get into it and you think it’s just a bit of fun and you’ll spend what you put in and then forget about it, but you don’t.

That’s how they get you! You think the bad stuff won’t happen to you, that it’s something that happens to other people, people who are less clever than you, but it’s not about being clever.

’ He kept talking, the words flowing out of him like blood from a wound.

‘So you do that classic thing of chasing your losses, convincing yourself that the next one will be different and the next one after that and the one after that, that statistically your luck has to change because you’ve been on a losing streak for so long and surely it has to end any minute.

But it doesn’t, and you still have nothing to show for it, and now you have even less than nothing.

So you move money around, borrow from here and there—’

I couldn’t help cutting him off at that moment. ‘Is that what you were doing? When you’d ask me if you could move money around? Covering your losses from online gambling?’ I asked, my mouth dry. ‘Not for the business?’

‘I’m sorry, Emily. I hate that I lied to you . . . to both of you.’

It was almost impossible to take in. What would he have done if he didn’t have a daughter with more money than she knew what to do with? What sort of situation would he be in right now?

‘And so,’ I said, disbelieving. ‘You’re breaking up.’

‘The trust, Emily,’ Mum said simply. ‘It’s just gone. I can’t be with someone who could have this kind of secret life.’

I didn’t think she was wrong. I couldn’t get my head around it. My parents were separating? After all this time? And it was because my dad had racked up God knows how much in gambling debts?

‘How much?’

‘What, love?’

‘How much was it?’

He took a deep breath and named a number that I hadn’t even imagined possible. I felt sick.

‘Say something, Em.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’ We sat in silence for a moment. ‘And you can’t pay it, can you?’

‘Well, I mean . . .’

‘I have it. I’ll pay it off.’ I could make more money, couldn’t I?

That was when Mum lost her composure. The tears came fast, and my heart absolutely broke for her.

‘For God’s sake, how has it come to this?

You taking money your daughter has worked hard for, just to pay off stupid gambling debts!

How could you do this?’ It was like she had forgotten I was there and they were just continuing an argument they’d been having without me.

‘Love, I couldn’t ask you to do that.’

‘Why not? You’ve already taken enough from her as it is. Why stop now?’ Mum snapped, and to be honest I thought she had a point. I just wanted to throw money at the problem and for it all to be over.

‘Let me think about it,’ Dad mumbled.

‘So is this it?’ I looked between them. ‘You’re breaking up?’

‘We need some time apart, that’s all. I’m going to Uncle Jack’s for a bit. I don’t blame your mum for needing a bit of space.’ Dad looked broken.

‘A trial separation,’ I offered.

‘Exactly.’ Mum nodded.

And that was how a normal Sunday morning went completely to hell.

With shaking hands, I put in my headphones and laced up my trainers.

On my walk to the lift, I passed Ben’s room.

For just a moment, I considered knocking.

I even made a fist, held up my hand, as if I was daring myself to knock and ask him for time and attention.

As I withdrew my hand, I realised with a sinking feeling that the person I really wanted to talk to was Josh.

Not the old Josh who wouldn’t have been able to even pretend to listen to a word I was saying, but the new Josh, the kind, thoughtful Josh I’d got to know.

But he had his own stuff going on, and more to the point, we didn’t have that kind of relationship, did we?

I ran down to Claddagh Quay, around South Park, along Grattan Beach and back into the centre of town.

I’d just turned a corner, wanting to head up towards the cathedral, when the blare of a car horn cut through the nebulous swirling thoughts that were clogging up my brain.

I gasped in horror at how close I had come to getting run over, which would have been entirely my own fault, and doubled over on the pavement trying to catch my breath.

‘Emily?’ I heard someone saying my name.

I really wasn’t in the mood for a selfie with a fan, but I would do it if I had to.

‘I thought that was you!’ It was Lucy Lennon.

I was so relieved to see her that I burst into tears on the spot.

‘Hey, hey, what’s going on?’ She drew me into a gentle hug.

I cried into her shoulder in a way I hadn’t done since I was little, and certainly not on a busy street corner on a Sunday morning.

‘You look like a woman in need of a coffee. And breakfast.’ She looked at her watch, a sleek analogue style with a dark snakeskin strap.

‘Or rather, brunch. Join me?’ Before I could answer she was marching me back in the direction I’d just come from, down towards the quay.

Luckily we didn’t have to wait long for a table, and soon I had a steaming flat white in front of me.

‘So.’ Lucy fixed me with an intense gaze. ‘What’s going on?’

I tried to hold back tears as I told her. It wasn’t even a long story – I had so few details, and all of it had been going on behind my back.

She nodded, thoughtfully, listening without interrupting or giving an opinion.

‘That must be really awful to find out. I’m so sorry, Emily. And to not be able to see them right now must make it even harder.’ She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘Has Ben been nice about it?’ I didn’t blame Lucy for assuming that Ben and I were closer than we actually were.

‘I haven’t told him yet. I . . .’ I trailed off.

‘Yes?’

‘I was going to, but then I realised I just . . . didn’t want to, I suppose.’ I couldn’t look at her when I said it.

‘So are you two seeing each other, then?’ she asked, casually sipping her coffee.

‘It’s sort of heading in that direction, I think,’ I said, a little apprehensively.

She looked at me, twitched the end of her nose. ‘I only ask because I know he’s not popular with the crew. He can be abrupt . . . impatient, entitled, that sort of thing. Just wanted to make sure he wasn’t like that with you.’

I tried to keep my face neutral and composed. ‘No, of course not. Why would someone say that about him?’ I asked lightly, though I knew why.

She shrugged. ‘You know how these things work on set.’

I bit my lip. ‘I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong,’ I added, quickly.

‘In lots of other ways he’s wonderful, and I really like the idea of being with him.

It’s just . . . every so often I see this side of him that makes me miss—’ I stopped myself.

I’d said too much, and I didn’t want to start talking about Josh right now, not one bit.

‘That makes me wonder a bit, you know?’ I regretted it as soon as I said it.

It felt like the genie was out of the bottle and I wanted it to go back in.

I wanted the image of Ben and me to be perfect, to be exactly what the press wanted for both of us, to be in a couple that made sense, two people who were compatible and boosted each other’s image, reflected something good back on each other.

‘I think wondering is always worthwhile, Emily. It means you’re not just accepting the status quo, you’re thinking about it, making sure it’s all enough for you.’

I sighed and covered my face with my hands. ‘He’s gorgeous, he’s charming, he’s talented, isn’t that enough? Why isn’t that enough?’

Lucy sighed. ‘Sometimes it just isn’t. That’s just how things work. It doesn’t always make sense.’

‘But I want it to make sense! I want it to work!’

She took a breath, like she was trying to psych herself up to say something she knew she shouldn’t. ‘And you know why else?’

‘Why?’

‘Because he’s not kind. You need to be with someone who’s kind. He can make all the sense in the world on paper but if something is holding you back,’ she said, holding up a hand to stop me from protesting. ‘I’m just saying, you should trust your instincts.’

‘I’m not much of an instinct person, that’s the problem. I absolutely hate doing things on impulse.’ I covered my face with my hands.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know if you have to be one or the other. I think we all contain both.’

I thought about how Josh had become more considered over the filming of the last Wonderwick.

Maybe I needed to do the same, in the opposite direction.

Maybe I needed to stop looking for sense and clarity and logic.

Maybe that was true, but this didn’t feel like the moment to be taking big swings. I needed stability, continuity.

I sighed, always grateful for her presence, her wisdom. ‘Lucy, why aren’t you . . . you know, an Oscar winner? It doesn’t make sense. You should be the most famous actress in the world.’

‘Whenever you wonder why an actress isn’t more famous, the answer is either going to be because she’s a proper nightmare to work with, or because she refused to sleep with someone important. Do I strike you as a proper nightmare?’

I shook my head.

She smiled wryly. ‘That’s just what happens to women who don’t play the game.

Who don’t let the men in the room tell them how it’s going to be.

Who don’t let them do whatever they want to her.

’ I blinked at her. ‘You can be as talented as you want but being a woman with boundaries is one sin Hollywood can never forgive.’

I could read between the lines, and it broke my heart.

‘Thank you for this, Lucy,’ I said, meaning the breakfast and the chat.

But I wanted to say more, to open myself up to her.

I didn’t want to be the restrained, embarrassed person I’d been for so long, always holding back, scared of showing affection.

‘It’s been amazing working with you, actually.

I’d grown up in such a specific world and hadn’t played anyone other than this one iconic character and you really .

. . well, you showed me this whole world of possibilities. You’re amazing.’

The skin around her eyes crinkled with delight. ‘What a lovely thing to say! I don’t know if you realise it yet but this film . . . it’s going to be big for you. Not big like Wonderwick, but big in other ways. I hope you’re proud of it.’

I knew Orientations was good, but so were a lot of films. I’d never done a non-Wonderwick film before, so I had nothing to compare it to.

I hoped every actor went home after a day of filming with the sense they’d worked on something brilliant that day, so it was possible Lucy was right and I didn’t quite comprehend what Orientations was for me.

‘I am proud,’ I said, trying to fight back tears. It had been a long day already and it wasn’t even lunchtime. ‘I miss it already.’

But there was no avoiding it: I had to go home.