He Will Be Mine: The brand new laugh out loud page turner!

by Kirsty Greenwood

  Yeah, I doubt that very much.

  By the time we enter the movie theatre, we’ve had three glasses of wine each and, having not drunk for ages, I’m feeling more than a little tipsy. It feels quite nice to have this relaxed, happy warmth spread through my body. Although it’s a manufactured feeling, it feels surprisingly like relief, which makes me think back to what Imogene said this morning. Am I depressed? I mean, I’m not dancing with joy or anything and I do, you know, cry quite a lot more than I used to…

  Shit. Don’t think about that, Nora.

  I mentally karate-chop the thought away and take a sip from my bottle of water.

  Thankfully, the lights dim then and the notice telling us to turn off our phones blares out through the surround-sound speakers. I peep around at the neighbouring seats. It’s surprisingly busy in here, which comforts me that the movie we’re about to watch might actually not be terrible.

  I take a handful of the popcorn I bought, smacking my hand to my mouth and shovelling it all in at once, which is definitely the best way to eat popcorn. Imogene side-eyes me and glances at the popcorn, envy in her eyes. I offer it to her, but she says no. I feel bad that she’s always on a diet. Her reasoning is that Dan married her at a size ten and she doesn’t want to let him down by piling on the beef, which I think, frankly, is bullshit. Then again I’m not Dan’s biggest fan. Imogene works full-time and still seems to do everything to keep their household running, looking after Ariana most of the time, while Dan takes on occasional freelance journalist jobs and barely helps at all. Not that Imogene seems unhappy, but still.

  Taking another gulp of my water, I settle down into my seat as the movie finally begins. Cool, bassy electronica music sounds out all around us, as a wide shot shows the silhouette of a man set against the backdrop of a blazing orange dusk. He’s holding a briefcase and walking towards a beat-up maroon-coloured car. I narrow my eyes. Something about the shape of the character’s back looks oddly familiar.

  ‘Who’s the main actor in this, do you know?’ I murmur to Imogene.

  She shrugs vaguely, her eyes not leaving the screen.

  ‘Shush!’ comes a voice from behind me.

  I turn around and give an apologetic shrug to the old guy looking irritated. Jeez, it’s not like anything is even happening yet!

  But then something does happen.

  Something massive happens.

  The camera pans around towards the front of the actor and all at once his face is lit up in the warm golden light of the fierce sunset. He’s staring right into the camera, his charcoal-coloured eyes glinting. He’s staring right at me.

  He leans back against the car and smiles a devastatingly charismatic smile, brushing his slightly curly hair back from his glistening forehead before saying in a deep Texan drawl, ‘I used to tell myself that I’d never let it get this far. But even as I was sayin’ it, I knew, deep down, that I was full of shit. The truth is, I was always gon’ end up here. And the trouble is, I’m not quite sure how the fuck I’m supposed to get back…’ He tilts his head and gazes intensely into the camera.

  My heart stumbles, my breath gathers in the back of my throat and I gasp sharply.

  Oh my god.

  OH. MY. GOD.

  Holy shit.

  It’s him.

  It’s him!

  My heart is thudding right out of my chest. My breathing quickens. I feel beads of sweat prickle along my hairline. I want to glance to my right to see if Imogene can hear me panting or has noticed that perhaps I am having some kind of medical emergency, but I can’t take my eyes off the gigantic image of the stranger on the screen.

  The character is now on his phone saying something to someone, but I don’t hear a word of it even though the surround sound means the warm timbre of his voice vibrates right through my chest.

  This is nuts.

  This is ridiculous.

  This is not how I imagined seeing my soulmate for the first time.

  Chapter Five

  Nora

  I consider that maybe I am going crazy. I rub my eyes like a cartoon character and squint at the guy in the movie.

  Yep.

  Total, actual thunderbolt. I can feel it, right through my belly, just like Mum said I would.

  And it’s not because the man on the screen has the darkest, most intense eyes I’ve ever seen or shiny obsidian curls that are begging to be tousled or that his forearms are the kind of forearms that can make a person get horny over a damn forearm. It’s not that… I… God, I feel like I know him. I’m staring at him on this ginormous HD technicolour projection and he’s both unfamiliar and deeply, unerringly familiar.

  I want to reach out and touch the screen and say ‘Ah, there you bloody well are. Come on, let’s go and start this thing finally!’ Which is bonkers, I know. Who is he, even?

  The rest of the cinema is deathly quiet while I sit there along with them all, my world tipping on its axis. Shit. I feel all fizzy. Am I actually having some sort of stroke? This being the anniversary of my parents’ death has made it a particularly stressful day. Is this a strange new manifestation of my grief? What is going on?

  I feel hot and weird and great and super super weird, but definitely great and excited. And hot. So hot. I have to get out of this stuffy room. I have to get out of here right now.

  I grab my handbag off the floor beneath me and stand up quickly.

  ‘Where are you going? What’s wrong?’ Imogene hisses, looking up at me in surprise.

  The older dude sitting behind us grumbles, ‘Please move, you’re blocking my view!’

  ‘Sorry!’ I turn back to Imogene. ‘Just need the loo.’

  Her eyes float back to the screen as I scooch past everyone else on the row, banging a couple of them on the knees with my bag.

  ‘Sorry, very sorry. Apologies!’ I mutter, causing even more annoyance.

  Once I’ve irritated everyone in the theatre, I push open the double doors and stumble, blinking, into the brightly coloured, artificially lit lobby of the cinema complex. I lean against a wall to catch my breath and try to figure out what’s going on with me. I feel so hot. Bringing my hand up to my forehead, I check my temperature to see if I’m spiking a fever or something when my elbow bumps into a big cardboard cut-out, which then tumbles forward onto the floor.

  ‘Oops,’ I whisper, wrestling it back upright and noticing as I do that there, life-size, eye to eye with me is… him. Well, his picture, on a cardboard stand advertising the movie we were just watching. I reach my hand out and touch his dark cardboard curls, my heart starting to thud again. This feeling I have is much stronger than I thought it would be. Stronger than Mum and Dad could have ever explained.

  ‘God he’s hot, right?’ the cinema attendant who upgraded our seats earlier comes over to straighten the display. ‘Not, like, your typical heart-throb, but just, really sexy and manly.’

  I jump, quickly retracting my hand from the cardboard cheek and pushing it into my coat pocket.

  ‘What is his name?’ I breathe, studying his face like it’s cake and I am starving.

  The girl points to the top of the poster and taps it twice. ‘It says it right there. Gary Montgomery.’

  ‘G-Gary?’ I ask, eyes widening. That’s… unexpected. From the way he looks, I’d have expected him to be called Fitz or Ace or Maverick. I draw my bottom lip between my teeth. To be fair, his name could be Adolph Van Soggypants and it wouldn’t suppress these crazy feelings I’m having right now. ‘Hello, Gary Montgomery,’ I beam up at him.

  ‘Gosh, you’re a strange person,’ the attendant says matter-of-factly. ‘Listen, don’t try nicking the cardboard cut-outs all right? We spend a fortune replacing them. When La La Land came out, we had to hide all the Ryan Goslings because they kept getting pinched.’

  ‘Of course I won’t nick it!’ I laugh casually, although I know my cheeks are turning red because it definitely crossed my mind.

  ‘Gary Montgomery,’ I say again with a wide grin.

/>   ‘Okay… um… I’ll leave you two alone,’ the girl says, backing away, bewildered.

  I continue to squint at Gary, trying hard to figure out if I’ve seen him in anything before, why I’m experiencing this full-on feeling of recognition, this colossal pull?

  ‘Nora, what are you doing out here?’ My thoughts are interrupted by Imogene’s voice. I drag my eyes away from Gary. ‘You’ve been ages. I thought you were doing a poo and then I remembered you don’t like to poo in public places. Are you coming back in? You’re missing the film. It’s gripping.’

  I point with a shaking hand to the life-size Gary Montgomery display. ‘It’s… it’s him.’

  ‘What? Who?’

  I can barely formulate the words, my heart is thumping so hard in my chest. ‘I think… I think this guy might… be my soulmate.’

  As soon as I’ve said the words out loud, I know how outrageous they sound.

  Imogene laughs flatly, like I’ve just told a shit joke, but then her eyes flick to my trembling hand and my serious expression. ‘Are you pissed?’

  I shake my head: no. ‘I’m tipsy from the wine earlier. Quite a lot tipsy actually, but it’s not that. I got this weird feeling as soon as I saw him and—’

  Imogene’s face falls into an expression of deep concern. ‘Oh Nora… Fuck. This is bad. You’re actually losing it.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. I know it sounds dumb. I just… I just…’ I look at his face again and shake my head slowly. ‘Just ignore me. I’m clearly going crazy.’

  ‘Come on,’ Imogene says gently, grabbing my hand and pulling me across the lobby. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  Chapter Six

  Gary

  Hey,

  The weekend back home was just what this country hick needed. I saw my old horse, Bess. She’s not up to riding these days, but it was good to groom her and take her for a slow walk around the pen. I did everything I wanted to do; read the books I wanted to read, ate way too much pecan pie and shot pool with my old man. It was great for Tori to meet Pops, finally. I think he liked her. He told me she was way outta my league, and he ain’t wrong. I wish he’d find someone of his own. Mom died giving birth to me (Ira is having a field day with this information) and Pops has never ever been on a date with another person. He swears he’s not lonely, but I reckon he’s lying.

  I was thinking about things on the flight back to LA. It’s funny, I always had this ridiculous idea that when you met the person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with, you know right away. Like you see them and some funky chorus of angels sounds out in your head or your heart just about bursts out of your chest. Like there’s this inherent knowledge that this total stranger is absolutely meant for you, like a big corny thunderbolt or something. I know it sounds absurd, but that’s what happens when you grow up with a nanny who loved to watch every romantic movie in existence. Even when she wasn’t really watching them, she’d have them playing in the background. That corny shit worms its way into a developing brain!

  Anyway, my point is that I always expected to have this amazing moment. And then I met Tori and it wasn’t like that at all. Our relationship was a slow burn. Thoughtful and considered and solid. I like that. It feels much sturdier than some frivolous infatuation. I like sturdy. Sturdy is safe. Sturdy lasts.

  Okay, my three amazing things for today:

  Pop’s face when I showed up at the door. He was so happy. I cried a little. Just one tear though. One beautiful macho tear.

  Argh. I’m cringing just writing this, but it was amazing so I gotta. Dustin Hoffman. THE FUCKING DUSTIN HOFFMAN sent me a note to say he enjoyed Justice of The Peace. What the hell is my life? Do I call him? Do I write him a note back? Will we become pen pals? Will I become pen pals with Dustin Hoffman? So much to think about.

  My friend Seth sent me a script his girlfriend Olive wrote. Aileen reckons it’s too small fry for me now that JOTP has done so well, but I love it. It’s called Chuffed. It’s an indie comedy drama and it’s about a broken American family who discover they have a rich ancestor in the county of Yorkshire, England. They have to travel across the pond together to hear the will. It’s pretty small-scale, but it’s so funny and the idea of playing Joseph, the asshole brother, sounds like so much fun. I have to convince Aileen to read it. I mean, I only did Justice of The Peace because the script was so good. Does that mean I have to do only big-budget movies now? I don’t know. I’d like to do what I’d like to do, y’know?

  Tori’s calling me. Gotta go!

  Chapter Seven

  Nora

  In the absence of anywhere else nearby, we find ourselves in Mama Romano’s. For the first time in my life, I have zero appetite. In fact, I feel slightly pukey, which is useful, considering the dubious food prep practices at this place. While Imogene is getting us drinks from the bar, I peer around all the red leather booths filled with people tucking in to big plates of saucy gloop. They must not know about the two-star rating.

  With still slightly shaking hands, I dig out my phone and google Gary Montgomery.

  Gary Montgomery.

  Three million results! Woah. I cannot believe I have never seen or heard of him before. I suppose I only use my Netflix account to watch old romantic comedies and I don’t really read newspapers or go on social media a lot, beside the Crown Kissers forum. But there are so many articles and pictures of him here, I don’t know where to begin.

  This feels too weird. I thought I’d spot my dream man on a train, or on the street, maybe I’d save him from choking on a little piece of fillet steak at a high-end restaurant or our eyes would meet between the shelves of a dusty but super charming second-hand bookshop. Not in super HD vision at Brigglesford Cinema.

  I immediately notice that Google says he lives in Los Angeles.

  My shoulders slump. Los Angeles. That feels like such an abstract, distant place to me!

  He doesn’t appear to have any of the usual social media accounts, so I click onto his Wikipedia page and hungrily read his bio. It’s not hugely long, but it tells me that Gary Montgomery was born in 1990, making him three years older than me. That he lives in the Venice Beach area of LA, was born and raised in Texas and that Justice of The Peace is his second major film. The first, a small indie film, won him a Critics Choice Award for best actor, and before that he was mostly in New York theatre, as well as having a few smaller parts in independent movies.

  I feel a rush of pride, also a very peculiar thing to feel towards someone I didn’t know existed until thirty minutes ago. Then I see an article slagging off his acting in Justice of The Peace as ‘one note’, which gives me a surge of rage on his behalf. Whoever wrote that is clearly a moron who is full of shit and knows absolutely nothing about anything.

  Argh! Why am I getting so angry on behalf of a person I have never met? About the acting abilities of which I saw about three minutes’ worth?

  Taking a deep breath in an attempt to slow my racing heart, I click onto the Google Images page. There he is. Picture upon picture of Gary Montgomery. Mostly him at film premieres and some paparazzi shots of him eating a gigantic burrito in the same way that I eat popcorn – a full shovel and smack to the mouth.

  There’s a close-up still from his first film. I zoom in even more. It strikes me once again how familiar his face looks to me. The intense darkness of his eyes, planes of his sharp jaw and his slightly wide, slightly too large nose. The cool pink flush to his cheeks and the upward curl of his stubby eyelashes. It’s not the face of most other identikit stars you see in films. It’s more offbeat, more intense, more arresting. I feel like I know those eyes. Like, really know them.

  I click onto a picture of Gary Montgomery at some award ceremony. He’s standing beside a tall, rangy blonde woman with a chic pixie crop and a stylish printed dress with billowing Victoriana-style sleeves. She is stunning. I open up the accompanying article. Gary Montgomery at the Screen Guild Actor’s Brunch with Tori Gould, a noted make-up artist, Instagr
am influencer and the daughter of Gary’s uber-successful Hollywood manager Aileen Gould. Gary and Tori have been dating for over a year and Tori accompanied him on his recent press trip.

  My stomach flips in envy and sadness.

  So that’s that.

  He’s on the other side of the world and he has a girlfriend. I’m clearly going nuts. But that feeling I had in the cinema. The feeling I still have now, right in my belly…

  Imogene swishes over with two Cokes, mine a full-fat that she was reticent to get me and hers a diet of course, and pops them down on the table. She takes an anti-bacterial wipe out of her handbag, wipes the rim of both glasses and takes a deep breath. ‘I’m worried about you, Nora. You’re acting very strange.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say, waving her away with a still trembling hand, my shoulders hunching up around my ears like they always do when she expresses worry about my mental health. ‘Let’s just forget about it. It was honestly nothing. Just having a weird day.’

  ‘Um, no, it wasn’t. You just said that the guy in that movie, a stranger, was your one true love. That’s ridiculous. Seriously ridiculous.’

  ‘Just please forget I said anything.’ I stir my straw around my drink and sigh. ‘Please.’

  ‘You don’t genuinely think he’s your soulmate?’ Imogene presses. ‘Do you?’

  I pick up a green paper napkin and start pulling it into pieces. ‘I just saw him and, I don’t know, I felt like Mum said I would feel… Like I needed to be near to him. But I’m obviously just cracking up, right? And, like, even if he was my soulmate, it’s not like there’s anything I can do about it. He’s in LA and he has a girlfriend, so that’s that. There’s nothing I can do. I’ll just have to, I don’t know, get over it? Ugh. This is so weird.’