Not Without You (38 page)

Bill looks thoughtful.

‘Maybe she’s not by herself,’ he says. ‘Maybe she’s got someone with her. Or maybe she’s dead and someone else is … I don’t know. Beyond me.’ He shrugs.

We’re all silent for a moment. ‘No, it was her, I’m sure it was her,’ I say obstinately. ‘I’m not mad.’ I rub my eyes. ‘I know what I saw.’

I sound too emphatic. There’s an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the thud of a sound man hitting something with a boom and cursing.

Alec breaks the tension. ‘Well, you say that, but you did go out with that pranny Dave Oldman,’ he says. ‘For four years. What you see and what others see isn’t quite the same thing if I’m honest, darling.’

I can’t help smiling, and he pats my arm. ‘You were just jealous,’ I say.

‘You bet I was. He was cute, for all he was an idiot.’ His eyes glint.

‘Oh, go away and check your make-up again.’ I sit back down on the damp grass.

At that moment my phone rings and Sara, who is sitting next to me, glances up from her laptop. ‘Want me to get it?’

‘It’s fine.’ I look down at the flashing screen, and see a photo of a face I haven’t seen for a while. I think for a second, and then I pick up the phone and say, ‘Hey, Tina!’ Sara looks up quickly.

‘Hey, Sophie. How – how are you? How is everything?’ I’d forgotten how timid she sounds, with that low, slightly lisping tone. I’m pleased to hear from her; but I don’t know what to say.
Do your lips still look like that?
‘Good, thanks. How – how was Vegas? How are you?’

‘Great. Thank you. The procedure went really well.’

‘I’m so glad!’

‘Thanks. Yes, this whole process has been … very, er, helpful. Made me see a lot of things more clearly.’ Tina gives a little laugh, which I find disconcerting. ‘I’m sorry, I just realised what a strange time it is to call, but I had to speak to you, Sophie. Did you get my message?’

‘What message?’

‘I called you last week about coming back early – I was going to fly to London. I’m kind of going mad, hanging round here. I’d love to start with you again as soon as is convenient. I’ll pay for the flight—’

I interrupt. ‘When did you call me?’

‘A few days ago. I left a message. I emailed you too. I know you’ve been busy—’

Tina’s voice is really faint but it’s still weird, hearing her after six, seven weeks. It takes me straight back to Hollywood. ‘That’s odd, I never got it.’ I look round for Sara, but I can’t see her. ‘Look, there’s no need for you to come over. Things are working out really well,’ I say, then regret my choice of words. ‘I mean, Sara’s here and it’s all fine so why don’t you just take some more time for yourself and I’ll see you back in LA.’

There’s silence. ‘Tina?’ I ask tentatively, after a few seconds.

‘I wanted to come back and help you right away,’ Tina bleats, suddenly loud in the murmuring static. ‘You need me.’

It’s such a curious thing to say I can’t reply immediately. ‘Stay in Vegas for a while and I’ll let you know what’s going on.’ I realise that doesn’t sound good so I add, ‘I’ll need you soon, that’s for sure! Sara’s great, but she’s not you.’

I realise someone’s at my elbow and I turn to see Sara standing next to me, slightly out of breath, her eyes enormous as she watches me intently. I give a little start, and then roll my eyes and silently mouth,
Tina
at her, in a co-conspiratorial way that makes me feel shitty.

Sara says in a loud voice, ‘Sophie, I have Artie on the line for you, it’s urgent. About the police case.’

I stare at her. ‘Hey, Tina,’ I say into the phone. ‘I have to go. Please don’t worry. Enjoy your time and I’ll see you in a month.’

‘But—’ Tina says. ‘But Sophie, are you sure? Are you OK?’

‘I’m good. I’ll see you soon.’ I say goodbye and end the call, turning to Sara.

‘Is that Artie?’

‘What?’ She smiles. ‘Oh, no, he’s not there. I just figured you could do with a little help.’ Then she says, ‘I mean, not to – Tina is great, I just thought maybe—’ She passes her hand over her forehead, like she’s tired. I’ve noticed it lately, she seems less perky. ‘I’m jealous of her, I guess! I like working for you.’

‘Sara, I—’ I look around, as there’s some sort of commotion on set and I think they’ll need me soon. ‘What are you going to do next, after this job?’

‘Is Tina coming here?’ she asks immediately.

‘No, no, of course not.’ I choose my words carefully. ‘I mean, it’s just – it’s a three-month contract and it’s halfway through now and this has been great, but – don’t you wonder what you’ll do afterwards?’

‘Sure,’ she says. ‘It’s OK. I’ve got a plan.’

‘Cool. What is it?’

She taps the side of her nose. ‘Can’t tell you. But you’re going to love it.’

‘Are you going back into acting?’ I say suddenly.

She gives me a strange look. ‘No. Why would you say that?’

‘No reason,’ I backtrack. ‘Just think it’s a shame you don’t do it any more. You were really good.’

‘I think I’ve found something else to be good at,’ she says. ‘And it’s all thanks to you.’ She touches my arm and points over to where T.T. is standing. ‘They need you, Sophie.’

My mind is racing as Alec comes towards me and takes my hands. ‘Do you mind standing in to play an old lady?’ he says. ‘Mm, I see a little touch of loose skin around the upper arms. Yes, you’ll do perfectly.’

He smiles and I roll my eyes. His fingers are warm in my clasp, and the night is chilly. ‘Who was that on the phone?’

‘Oh, my old assistant. My assistant, sorry.’

‘The one with the crazy face?’ I bat him lightly on the arm. ‘Where’d she go?’

‘She went to Vegas to get her crazy face fixed,’ I say, watching Sara walking away. ‘At least I think she did. I’m not sure any more.’

NIGHT SHOOTS TOTALLY mess me up. By the time we’ve finished, a rosy dawn is creeping out behind the black trees around the cottage. Kim, a new on-set security guard, drives me and Alec back to the hotel. I look at my watch and it’s almost five o’clock. I’m numb with tiredness, that slightly fizzing feeling you get after a red-eye flight. Thank God we don’t have to work today.

I’m still in the loose cotton Elizabethan dress Annie changes into during the scene; they said I could wear it home. I stare out at the sunny yellow wheat fields. The sky is now bright, candy pink.

‘Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning,’ Alec says, beside me. ‘What does it mean? I’ve never known a red sky in the morning mean a storm’s on the way.’

‘I don’t know.’ I think about it. ‘You don’t really get dawn in LA. Not in the same way.’

‘Get some lovely ones in London,’ Alec says. ‘Rising up over the rooftops. I often see it if I’m on my way home from somewhere.’

‘I bet you do,’ I say. ‘How’s Eloise, by the way?’

He frowns. ‘Who? Oh, her. She’s – I think she’s fine, isn’t she?’

‘Alec!’ I say, shaking my head.

‘I’m not the total slag you think I am, you know,’ he replies.

‘Of course you are.’

He clicks his tongue almost impatiently, and purses his lips. ‘You don’t understand. I’m not really like that.’

I put my hand on his knee. ‘It’s fine by me,’ I say. ‘Honestly, I don’t care. You never messed me around. I don’t have any hard feelings.’

The car purrs along, and otherwise there’s silence. There’s a dewy mist rising just above the contours of the fields, gentle curves like bodies. Across the horizon towards the south, a bird rises up above the yellow corn. I watch it circling, higher and higher.

‘Sophie, there’s something I want to tell you—’ Alec opens his mouth to say something, and then suddenly clamps it shut.

I rub my eyes. ‘Go on then.’

We swerve around a corner and I loll against him.

‘Never mind,’ he says, after a pause. ‘Doesn’t matter. I’m talking rubbish.’ He kisses my hand swiftly, and it’s so abrupt that I feel my heart jolt. I hold his hand in mine.

‘Alec—’ I say. ‘You think you have to change for me. You don’t. I love you just the way you are.’

‘I loathe the way you misquote romcoms and try and pass them off as your own off-the-cuff remarks,’ he says, and then he leans forward and kisses me. ‘Darling Sophie.’

He slides his hand around my neck, his tongue into my mouth, and I hear him sigh, deeply, somewhere in the back of his throat. I am surprised, but I move towards him, sliding my hand up and around his smooth neck. I’m not
that
surprised, after all. It’s Alec. Haven’t I been wanting this to happen, since the day I first discovered he was on this film? The answer is yes.

I need to give Kim the new guard the slip, so as we walk through the deserted lobby I say, ‘Give us a minute, will you, Kim?’ I wink at her. ‘Angie’s in the next room, it’s fine. You can leave me here. I just want to say goodnight to Alec. See you tomorrow.’

She nods shyly. We creep up the stairs, tiptoeing hand in hand and trying to avoid the creaking floorboards. We walk past my room, down the corridor and around the corner, up some stairs, to Alec’s room. When we get inside, he shuts the door and pushes me against it, cupping my breasts in his hands and burying his head between them.

‘My Elizabethan wench,’ he murmurs. ‘Aren’t you?’

He kisses the top of each breast in turn, running his lips over my skin, then fumbles with his leather breeches.

‘I love you in costume.’ I pull his cotton shirt out, take off the leather top. It makes a creaking, rubbing sound against my skin. ‘I love the leather.’

‘Me too,’ says Alec. He gives me a smile. ‘I really didn’t think this’d happen. Aren’t you seeing that chap?’

‘Who?’ I pause for a second, thinking of George.

‘Patrick Drew. The surfer dude with the idiot hair. I thought you were banging him. Said so in
Heat
last week.’

‘No, absolutely not.’ I don’t want to be annoyed, or get distracted, not by Patrick’s kind face, his intense gaze, his warm hands. I shake my head. ‘He’s not an idiot—’ I stop. ‘It’s all made up, you should know that. I’m totally footloose and fancy free.’ I run my hands over his shoulders, his smooth, pale skin like marble.

‘I am so glad to hear that.’ He tugs my knickers off. I’m not wearing a bra. I’m naked underneath the loose cotton shift and corset, my hair free from its wig, tousled and longer than it has been for ages, my shoulders bare. He puts his hands round my waist, staring at me in delight. ‘What an unexpected treat this is going to be,’ he says, as we climb onto the bed. I laugh. ‘I’m going to enjoy every inch of you, Sophie, and I hope you return the favour.’ He pulls my hand down to his crotch, and rocks his erection against me. I kiss his neck, smiling into his skin, because it just feels lovely to have someone again, and it’s him, it’s Alec, it’s – just great.

It’s nearly seven by the time we fall asleep curling together, my head on his chest, his arms around me, and then half an hour or so later I’m woken as he pushes me aside and rolls to the other side of the bed, where he lies on his back, his hands clasped together on his breast bone, like a prince on a medieval tomb. I stare blearily at him, and then drift off again and sleep like the dead, until a noise wakes us and we’re up again.

I’d forgotten, when we were together that summer so long ago, that I’d roll against him so hopefully, and he’d always leap out of bed in the mornings. He never wanted sex then, though I always did. The one thing George had in his favour was that he wanted sex. Most of the time. In fact, that’s – yes, that’s the one thing we had in common.

‘Come back to bed,’ I say, holding the duvet open.

‘No fear, you’ll just clamp your woman muscles around me and I’ll never get free,’ he says, leaning over and kissing me. ‘Besides, look at the time. It’s nearly eleven.’

I lie back grumpily. ‘But we didn’t go to sleep till seven. It’s fine. They’re letting us sleep in. Sara isn’t coming to wake me till midday.’

Alec is tying his dressing gown, a blue silk affair with a nice purple weave to it, tightly around him. ‘Well – but we don’t want to lose the rhythm of the day.’

He wants to get rid of me.
Of course. I have to get out of here before he thinks I’m begging him to let me stay. Poor Alec – I sneak a look at him. He’s rattled. He’s worried I’m going to start crying and telling him I want his babies, because all women fall for him: Eloise the poised French epitome of elegance; Helen the bouncy unguarded runner; even Margaret the pensioner tour guide at Anne Hathaway’s cottage – they all fall for him, because they know he’s bad news in some way, but he’s curiously comforting at the same time, unthreatening. Why? I’m dangerously close to being that person too, I realise.

I sit up and ruffle my hair in what I hope is a cool, unbothered fashion. ‘Actually, darling, I need to speak to Artie anyway,’ I say, ignoring the fact that it’s three a.m. in LA. ‘Can you do me a favour?’ I stretch and yawn. ‘I’d better get back, but I don’t want to do the walk of shame in this.’ I hold up the Elizabethan shift. ‘Would you mind slipping along to my room and grabbing some clothes? Jeans and a T-shirt, they’re both in that cupboard on the left as you go in.’

Alec is torn between laziness and relief. ‘Sure,’ he says, relief getting the better of him. ‘Let me just put my dressing gown on. Give me the key.’

After he’s gone I lie back again, rubbing myself luxuriantly against the sheets. It’s lovely being here with him, it’s lovely feeling someone else’s skin on mine, someone inside me, someone I love as much as Alec. In fact, it’s a lovely day. Everything is good. I reach over to my bag and take out my BlackBerry, turn it on, scroll through my emails on the achingly slow Wi-Fi.

Then the phone messages start loading, and buzzing as I hold the phone in my hand. One after the other.

‘Sophie, where are you? It’s been two hours now since the last one … call me, this is Artie.’

‘Sophie dear, it’s Tony. Would you call us? We’d love to know that you’re all right. I’m sure you are – just be good to have it confirmed! Ah – if you could. Just call. Please. I don’t know if you’ve been back to your room yet, but please don’t – it’s a maniac. I’m sure you can’t have been.’

I jump out of bed, pull on the white towelling robe that hangs on the back of the door, and race down the corridor, around the corner. There’s a crowd of people, a policeman looking like an outrider in a fluorescent tabard and black jacket, a rumbling walkie-talkie attached to his shoulder. ‘She’s here,’ he says briefly, as he sees me approach. I run into my bedroom.