Her American Classic (Part 2)

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Her American Classic (Part 2) Page 5

by G J Morgan


  “You have a tattoo on your finger, don’t you?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Can’t even remember. Some website.”

  “Done your research haven’t you?”

  “What’s the six mean?”

  “Means I made another mistake.”

  “Least it was only a little mistake.”

  “Was it?” I laughed. I didn’t even know why. “Can we stop now?”

  “Sure,” he replied, as we dropped our surfboards to the sand, looking towards the dunes yet to come.

  Back at the van, the car park had filled, the nice weather had brought them out in droves. Dave looked busy, sorting out money, getting people in and out of wetsuits. Again, it was mostly men, big men with beards and bellies, naked or half naked, even saw a penis. Tom and I were exhausted, hands on our knees as we got our breath back.

  “Tom!” Dave shouted through the bodies. “Not too bad out there, bra. Need to get up a bit quicker, stay low once you’re up. Lillian, you just need to paddle a bit harder, build up your speed.” He threw us both a bottle of water. It was gone within seconds, still couldn’t shift the taste of salt.

  “Hey, if you two fancy it tomorrow, I’ll be here around ten or thereabouts.”

  I looked at Tom, he looked at me. We shared a similar expression, told Dave we’d let him know.

  “Lillian.” Dave came closer. “Do you mind if I ask you a little favour? Just in case we don’t see you down here again.”

  “Sure,” I said, attempting to unzip myself.

  “Do you mind if I have your autograph before you head off?” he whispered. “My wife is a huge fan.”

  “How long have you known?” I said, feeling myself blush.

  “All along, I’m afraid. Don’t worry, your secret is safe. You’re just another girl in a wetsuit as far as the punters are concerned. Oh, by the way fella.” Dave was talking to Tom. “Someone was asking about your Jeep, man.”

  “My Jeep?”

  “Said he was your friend.”

  “Did he give a name?”

  “No, fella. Just asked who you were with.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “Said I didn’t know. He asked if you had an American with you too. He was a strange dude, Russian maybe, Polish. He didn’t hang around for long. Don’t think he likes you much, didn’t seem too happy.”

  “Thanks for the heads up.”

  On the drive back to my house, my hair still wet, my eyes still stinging, I asked Tom who his friend was. Tom said he wasn’t a friend. I asked if he was his partner, asked if we should be worried, he said no both times. I didn’t know if he was protecting me or exposing me. I felt uncomfortable with both.

  Back at the house I offered Tom a beer from under the sink.

  “Sorry if it’s a bit warm.”

  “Funny place to keep beer.”

  “Needs must.”

  My cell buzzed, I read it quickly.

  “My agent. He’s sending me a couple of scripts to look over.”

  Tom looked impressed. “You know what for?”

  “Not sure. They sound quite a big deal.”

  “I don’t why but when I think of agents I just think of Jerry Maguire. Show me the money and all that.”

  “What, my Ralph? You’re not far off. There’s not much Polo about Ralph. He’s a slime ball but he makes me rich, apparently.”

  “Must be exciting though,” he said. “Being sent scripts.”

  “You haven’t read them.”

  “Nothing good then?”

  “No, that’s the sad thing. Nothing groundbreaking. Mostly predictable.”

  “There must be one, surely? They can’t all be duds.”

  “They’re all the same movie. No matter what film, I’m still down to play the damaged one, the one with problems. For me it’s the same movie, just on a different location with different types of damage and problems. I must just have a face people like to see suffer.”

  “Or people just believe in what they are seeing.”

  “Great, so you’re saying I’m both damaged and a bad actress. Anything else?”

  “I’d just be happy to be in a movie, credible or otherwise.”

  “I shouldn’t moan but I do. I know one of them is a Michael Bay production.”

  “Michael Bay? You’ll be saving the world in some capacity then. Blowing up meteors or fighting robots.”

  “Either way I’ll be in a short skirt.”

  “You don’t have a very high opinion of yourself?”

  “I can’t act, silly. I thought you knew that.”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s imperative these days.”

  “Thanks for the boost of confidence.”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t act. I’m just impartial. Besides judging by your popularity, being you seems to be working just fine.”

  “I’m just playing with you. I act OK, not the best but not the worst. You ever acted?”

  “No. I’d be awful. Tried out at school, but it was painful. I think acting is something you are born with.”

  “I disagree. You know I went to acting school?”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Really? I thought that was public knowledge.”

  “Where?”

  “Beverly Hills Playhouse. You gonna ask why I went?”

  “I wasn’t actually. I would’ve thought most actors did the same.”

  “You’d be surprised how many don’t. They see it as a flaw, admitting that they aren’t the finished article. Be like a doctor going back to med school. People assume once you’ve made the big screen then you’re qualified, after that the education stops.”

  “Must have felt a bit weird, sitting amongst all those students. You being you and all that.”

  “It was more than weird, on my part mostly, they couldn’t give two craps. They just treated me the same as anyone else.”

  “Did you get a lot of it?”

  “Oh lots. I’m glad I went. I had far too many limitations before. I still have some, just not so many.”

  “You said ‘went’. You stopped going?”

  “I had to stop going. Got found out, started hounding the students, it wasn’t fair on them so I just stopped going.”

  “Shame.”

  “Shame indeed. What about you? What’s your story?”

  Just as Tom went to answer, there was a knock at the door, startling us both.

  “That’s weird. I don’t know who that’d be.”

  “Better check it’s not the paps.”

  “Good idea,” I said as I went to the games room for a closer look. “Fuck, it’s Max.”

  “Max? What do you want me to do? Ask him to leave?”

  “No, that’ll make things worse.”

  Another knock on the door.

  “Don’t answer it.”

  “My car is outside. He knows I’m here. Tom, just go upstairs or something.”

  Another knock.

  “You sure?”

  “Go. I’ll be fine.” Tom dashed past me as I took a deep breath and opened the door.

  * * *

  “What are you doing here, Max?” I said through the gap in the door.

  “I brought flowers.”

  “I don’t want them, Max. Now isn’t a good time. Can you please just go.”

  “You running a car dealership here? Jeeps and Jags.”

  I went to close the door.

  “Lilly, please don’t. I haven’t come here for another fist fight. I’ve come to say sorry for last night. I was drunk and crass. I acted like a brute. I deserved that slap.”

  “Aren’t you tired of apologizing?”

  “Not when it’s the right thing to do. Look, my flight lea
ves soon. I don’t want things left like this. Please can I come inside, just for a few minutes?”

  “Max, I’m not feeling great.”

  “I promise I will be quick as a flash,” he said as I let him in, or he let himself in, I couldn’t tell which.

  “You fixed the electricity then I see. I’m impressed.”

  “Max, I’m really tired. I accept your apology, but I don’t think we should see each other for a while. Whatever else you need to say, just say it and go.”

  “Look, when I head home I’m going to try and get my head round our next move, like I said, our situation is delicate, I need to understand how to let it play out. For the time being just leave the talking to me. I’ll speak to Sally and your team, make sure we are all on the same page.”

  “I’ll speak to Sally. Sally is not your employee, Max. I’ll fill her in, not you.”

  “Less snarling, Lilly. I’m not starting a dogfight.”

  “Max, I want to make one thing crystal-clear. After that shit you pulled last night, there is no me and you, or ever will be. So, any plans you have to involve me in your grand schemes you best leave me out.”

  “Lilly, look…”

  “No, you listen, Max. What I do from now on is of my concern. And whether I choose to be on your side or against you is my business. But don’t think for one minute your career is top of my agenda. In fact, right now, watching you fail and plummet seems a lot more rewarding than seeing you succeed.”

  “I thought we could be civilized.”

  “I’m in a pretty far fucking place from civilized, Max. Now for the last time take your fucking bouquet and fuck off back to Tinsel Town.”

  Max looked at me, smiling, waiting for my face to change, which it didn’t.

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “That is what I want.”

  “You might as well keep these. I doubt they’ll let me take them on the plane.” He placed the flowers on the side, as he noticed the two half-drunk beer bottles. “Didn’t have to search too far in the end did you, Lilly?” he said, pointing at them. “Still cold, too.” He picked one up, looking through the kitchen, up the stairs. “You call me when you’re less busy entertaining.”

  * * *

  Once Max’s car had gone, Tom came back downstairs.

  “How are you? That was pretty close. You think he knew someone was here?”

  “Is it all right if you go too, Tom?” I was sat facing away from him, looking out across the garden. “I’ve enjoyed today, I really have, but I think it’s a bad idea what we are doing. Thank you again for what you did last night, honestly, I can’t thank you enough. But it’s for the best we leave things as they are, end on good terms now rather than let things turn sour. I hope you understand. It’s just better this way.”

  He said something back, that he understood, or that he was sorry, either way he left straight away, another door slammed, another man being asked to leave.

  9

  “Dot, here, hold my arm.”

  “I’m fine,” she said mid-breath, trailing behind.

  “You’re not. Hold my arm.”

  “Tom, leave me be. I’m just old that’s all, just takes me a little longer. I have done this before you know, more times than I can remember.”

  “I’m looking out for you. Don’t want you going over the edge, that’s all.”

  “I appreciate the concern, but as far as I can tell these cliffs haven’t changed in the fifty-nine years I’ve been up and down them.”

  “Well, if you tumble to your death I won’t be held responsible. Has anyone actually ever died up here?”

  “No one I know. Though it’s seen a few shipwrecks in its time.”

  “Really?”

  “Probably why they felt the need to put up a lighthouse. Those rocks down there are a death trap. Seabed full of sailors’ bones, I bet.”

  We carried on walking, watching, taking it all in. The sea looked rough but I couldn’t hear it through the wind and birds. The ocean looked busy, tiny ships in the distance, tiny teenagers jumping off rocks twice their size. Through my binoculars I could make out a cluster of houses, roofless and abandoned. I was on the edge of England, about to fall off.

  “Not a bad way to spend a lunchtime is it? Whilst most of the country are sat behind some desk looking at percentages.”

  “It’s impressive, I’ll give you that.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t brought your camera. You don’t get much better views than this.”

  “I’m surprised Alfred let you come.”

  “He’ll be in a sulk when I get back, no doubt, moaning about how hard he’s had to work, how much his back hurts, the big girl. When are you going to tell me the real reason why we are both here today? Why I’m on top of the world, rather than at the bottom of an ironing pile?”

  “I told you. Just fancied a day out.”

  “Just seems peculiar. A Monday seems a strange day to have off. In fact, you having a day off at all is very out of sync for you.”

  “Thought it would be nice, that’s all.”

  “Everything is all right, though? No problems at work is there?”

  “No nothing like that. Just felt like doing something spontaneous.”

  “Well, as long as you’d tell me if anything was bothering you. I’d like to think I’m someone you can confide in.”

  “Course I’d tell you. But I’m fine, Dot, honest.”

  “Back at work tomorrow then, or should I plan for more of your new unbridled spontaneity?”

  “Ha ha. Yes, I’m back at work.”

  A family walked past, we exchanged smiles as their dogs sniffed the cliff’s edge like they were about to jump off, before dashing back towards their parents’ ankles.

  “I’d like to see some of your work one day, if you’ll ever let me. Never know, I could pick out a few I liked, get Alfred to hang them up around the house. I’ve always complained our walls lack a bit of activity. A nice seascape, perhaps, a pretty field. Be nice for people to look at whilst they eat their full English. Hey, after the lighthouse, do you fancy a pot of tea?”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “Good. There is a place not too far. I know the owner. Warm ourselves up before we head back to civilization and chores. Thanks for me bringing, Tom, it’s nice to get out, I don’t do it enough, seeing as it’s all bang on my doorstep.”

  “It’s been a pleasure, Dot.”

  “We should both give ourselves more days off like this, living here sometimes I take it for granted, it’s not if as if I’ll be able to climb up here forever. Thank you for making me remember, giving me an incentive to explore again. Feel like I’m a teenager again, bringing boys up here for views and a little bit of something else if they were lucky,” she laughed.

  We went quiet, taking in the view, breathing in the coastline, breathing out all that was in our heads.

  “Dot, today wasn’t really my day off. There’s more to it than that.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m not really a freelance photographer either.”

  “So, what’s all the camera equipment for? Why are you here?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Well we have a long way back so now is as good a time as any,” she said, linking my arm, heading towards the lighthouse, like we were looking at the end of England’s chin.

  * * *

  “What you going to do tomorrow, Tom? I can’t go walking every day, it will take me a week to recover from this one.”

  “I don’t know. I really have no idea what to do next. Go home. It seems the right time to call it quits.”

  “I wouldn’t give up too soon. If you’ve gone this far, you might as well see it through.”

  “I’m not knocking on her door, Dot. She made it clear that I wouldn’t be invited in
again.”

  “Then that will be her call.” She sipped her tea. “And besides. us girls to tend to change our minds.”

  “I don’t think Lilly will change hers.”

  “Then at least you’ll be there when she does.”

  10

  When England first got discussed, when the film got the green light and I got the part, Sally’s initial idea was to have the three of us living under the one roof. Tried to sell the idea of us being one big family, dinners round the table, movie nights, and although it sounded tempting I pretty much put a halt to her plans from the off. Of course, she sulked for a few days, took it personally, but once she and Frank had sorted out alternative accommodation not too far away from mine, she soon changed her tune. To be honest it made little difference, they might as well have lived with me, the amount of time they’d spent here. Though, to be fair, that was mostly my fault, it was normally me asking them to come, or asking them to stay, most days we’d all be sat watching TV, or watching each other cook stuff. To a point where I felt a little guilty when it reached the natural time for them to leave, when all our eyes were half closed in front of the fire and the last thing they’d both want to do is get into their cold cars and drive back to their cold little houses and cold little beds. In reality, this house was a wrong choice. Far too big for just little old me, probably too big even if I had agreed for us all to live together. Someone obviously assumed I needed big rooms and lots of them, an assumption which happens a lot, when you’re famous you get used to being offered more than you need and most of the time you take it. Most of the time the size of the house never bothered me, at night times, with all the creaks and shadows but otherwise the three of us coming in and out made it always feel like there was something to do or something to talk about.

  I was missing Frank and Sally today, it was weird not having them around, I wasn’t used to hearing my own thoughts and being in control of my day. I was in a strange mood anyway, girl problems that made my stomach go sideways and my hormones up and down. So, there I was, two days later, torn between being productive and being idle. So far, I’d been both, slouched about feeling guilty, attempted chores I didn’t finish, but I enjoyed neither. Truth was, I was bored and it was hard to be bored knowing there was someone equally lonely watching me through a camera lens about fifty yards across the garden. Unless what I told him the night before scared him off. I hoped not.

 

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