by G J Morgan
Then again. And again. Every couple of minutes.
64
I looked everywhere, stayed on the red carpet longer than I should, let myself be photographed, let people stick microphones in my face, answered their questions, even let myself be rained on when everyone else rushed inside, let my hair get wet, my arms, my dress, everything Team Goodridge told me not to do. Inside I sipped champagne, made conversation, all of the time I was checking doorways, looking over people’s shoulders, excusing myself for no reason other than to climb steps, get high enough where I could see across the hundreds of guests, scan the room, check every face. Even as they called us in, as we got to our seats, as the lights dimmed and the title music played, even then, rather than digest the film, analyse my performance, appreciate the script, all I could do was search, look at fire exits, at the back of heads, searching for Tom, when all I could see was a black room and a glowing movie screen. I was at the bar, flute glasses had turned to cocktails, cocktails were about to become shots. Jon was to blame, he was the catalyst for all the drinking, said we deserved to enjoy ourselves, said getting ‘sozzled’ as he put it was completely acceptable, implying it may not be with the others. Can’t imagine he wanted our media campaign to turn into a worldwide booze tour. I suppose Jon was right though, we did deserve one night to cut loose, though most of the praise should have gone to him and his editing staff for what they pulled together up there for all to see. The movie looked and read so much better on screen than it ever had on paper, and that included me, I found it all very nostalgic hearing my awful accent again, all those greens of England, oceans I was still just as fond of as I had been before. The end even made me cry, even though I knew what was coming, though sometimes that was worse, like even though your body braced itself, it was still gonna hurt just the same. I wasn’t quite sure where we were, wherever we were it was gorgeous all round, awesome view, hot bar staff, beautiful drinks, it couldn’t have been that far from Leicester Square, as I was only in the car for a matter of minutes between being dragged from one bar and dropped off at another. Somehow, I was alone, I’d lost the girls or they’d lost me. I checked over my shoulder, they were on the dance floor en masse, slut dropping and dancing dirty. Few more shots and I wouldn’t be far behind them. “Yo, Goodridge in the house,” said a voice behind me.
I turned around, I didn’t mean to look so shocked.
“You stopped giving hugs these days or what?” his arms spread out.
“I thought I’d be the last person you’d want a hug from.”
“You’re my favourite person to fall out with, you know that,” he said, grabbing me off the floor.
“You drunk?”
“Only a little. Not as much as Jon. That guy is hilarious, keeps pinching my ass. What you reckon?”
“To what?”
“The movie.”
“I liked it. You?”
“I’m surprised I managed to stay awake.” He leaned his bicep against the bar.
“It was a lot more fast paced than I thought it would be. Especially as we all did was drink tea and stroll gardens.”
“I enjoyed watching me and you up there.”
“I bet you did. Quite the convincing couple. Well, not our accents, but the rest of it.”
“Our accents were a joke. That’s the last time I go British.”
“Why did you even take on the role? It was like the exact opposite of a Rogan movie.”
“Not my idea, trust me. My manager thought it would make my IMDB look a bit more varied. Y’know, something animated, something serious. The dude’s not my manager anymore anyways so I’ll be in a loincloth or blowing stuff up soon, don’t you worry.”
“Do you mind that? Being the hero all the time?”
“I just wanna get paid in the easiest way possible. You wanna drink?”
“I’d love one, thanks. I’m glad we’ve finally got a chance to properly talk just me and you.”
“Oh,” he smiled, like I was flirting when I wasn’t, as he ordered us some drinks.
“Just wanted to say I’m sorry for what happened before.”
“Before?” watching as the barmaid pretty much flopped her breast in his lap.
“Before. When I invited you back?”
“Oh that. Dude I haven’t even thought about it.”
“I shouldn’t have led you on like that. That was wrong of me.”
“Hey man, stuff happens. I was mad at the time probably, but I’m easy on shit like that.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, Goodridge. It’s cool. Though you may be the first girl to turn me down. I’m not used to that sort of rejection.”
“Don’t worry, it was nothing to with you, promise. I had a lot of stuff going on then. There was a guy, it was, well it was complicated.”
“Let me guess. The guy at the restaurant that night, right?”
“That was him, yes.”
“What’s the deal with you and him? He was on set too, wasn’t he?”
I nodded. “I guess what I’m saying is, I know that me and you haven’t always seen eye to eye. But can we just put a line through it? Start over?”
“Works for me. Shall we drink to that?”
“We shall.”
“Let’s make a toast.”
“Only if you make it. I’m awful at them.”
He raised his glass, I raised mine too. “Never above you. Never below you. Always by your side.”
“Rogan, that is so cheesy,” I laughed.
“Something my old coach used to make us say.”
“Well, cheesy or not, I like the sentiment,” I said as we downed our drinks and ordered more.
“Where is the guy, anyway?” Rogan said, sucking his lime wedge.
“Which guy?”
“The guy. The one in the restaurant. The complicated guy.”
“Still just as complicated.”
“I saw him earlier.”
“Where? Here?”
“No,” sucking another lime wedge. “Back at the movie theatre.”
“Where, inside?”
“No outside in the crowd. Only briefly. Well I think it was him.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Nope.”
“How comes I didn’t see him? Why didn’t he call my name?”
“Goodridge, everyone calls out our names. I thought I heard you were back with Max?”
“Rogen, you are being serious? You saw him? You are not screwing with me?”
“Why would I screw with you? I saw him.”
“Look I gotta go. Can you… ”
“Don’t worry, you go. I’ll cover for you.”
But I was already gone.
65
Not quite sure of where to be, I quickly realized I’d made the wrong choice. I was too far away, there were far too many bodies in front of me, too many yells and cheers. The energy was building, fans starting to get territorial over their position from the front, barging and jostling for a better view. It was mostly women, young girls, Rogan fans, screaming and crying, puppy love and puppy yelps. I looked across the sea of heads, the paparazzi piled in row after row like a football team roster, that was where I needed to be, there was fewer of them, they were closer, more chance of being seen or heard.
Right Tom. Think.
I checked my clock, I still had time, a few limos had arrived but not people I recognized, probably producers and cinematography, small-part cast members. I’d brought my camera, found some old press pass in my camera bag on the tube ride here, Vince gave it to me when the whole adventure started, said it could be useful to get into places we had no right being in, turned out Vince was right. The shot pulled off, managed to elbow and fight my way across to the other side unnoticed, by sheer luck sec
urity were momentarily preoccupied with some altercation in the crowd, meant I could slip past, quickly sandwich myself between other paps, shoved my camera in front of my face, pretended I was taking photos, now it was just a case of waiting.
Jon was first to arrive, though not many recognized him, it was only when more well-known actors and actresses started to step out onto the red carpet that the screams and shouts erupted, especially Rogan. He was on the carpet a long time, chatting to fans, talking selfies, signing chests, before making his way over to the press area. I took photos of course, joined in with the melee of flash bulbs and shouting. I could’ve sworn he noticed me, for one brief moment we crossed stares. I nearly said something, wanted to shout out, not sure what, anything so he might tell Lilly I was here. But I didn’t, he was handed an umbrella and ushered inside.
Lilly was last to arrive, the main event, and the mood of the paps around intensified. The smell of money was in the air, any previous camaraderie or friendship had been forgotten, everyone in it for themselves, knowing she was the one who’d make standing in the rain and cold worthwhile. The crowd exploded when she stepped out of her limousine, as she waved and greeted the fans around her. She took longer than most, slowly making her way round the crowds, making sure every fan got their few seconds, took her time, even with the rain, she made sure the audience could walk away with a memory or memento. I had a horrible feeling she would run out of time, not to mention the weather, the rain had worsened and the film would be starting soon, I kept looking at her team behind her, they looked concerned, kept checking their watches, talking into earpieces. As she started to walk over, towards me and the dozens of cameras, I knew this was it, I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but I would do something. I had to.
Then I heard a bang. Ringing in my ear. Things went blank.
66
When I came to, there was blood. I patted my head, again more blood, not a lot but blood nonetheless. I looked up and there stood Ludo, a smile that wasn’t friendly, offering me his hand, telling me Lilly had gone inside.
Strangely, I wasn’t mad, fighting him wouldn’t solve anything, let him pick me up instead, even walked with him through London. I was just exhausted, failure was exhausting and Ludo was right. I’d fucked him, so he’d fucked me. I didn’t begrudge him his tiny revenge, just bad timing of when Ludo decided to seek it, the worst timing.
The reality was, my chance was blown. I didn’t have a plan B. I didn’t know how else to get inside. I didn’t even have her number, just some vague memory of the last three digits, from all the times I’d ignored and deleted her calls before. Instead we found the nearest bar, somewhere I could let my wounds heal and Ludo could buy us both a strong drink. Get home, forget Lilly, forget tonight, but not till I’d had a few more drinks, something to get rid of my headache, stop everything from hurting.
“You married, Ludo?”
“She live back home.”
“Kids?” taking a mouthful of Guinness.
He nodded. “Girls,” holding up four fingers.
“You’ve been busy. Guess you don’t see them much.”
“I see enough.”
“You must miss them.”
“My wife not so much,” he grunted. “She break balls.”
“How long you been together?”
“Twelve years.”
“And how long you been doing this? Chasing celebrities?”
“Two years, I think.”
“You still enjoy it?”
“I don’t think about enjoy. It gives money. If I do this few years longer, then Ludo give up, go home rich, get fat, let my five women look after me.” He took a big gulp of beer. “How’s head?”
“Sore.”
Ludo laughed.
“You still haven’t apologized,” I said, rubbing my head.
“Ludo not sorry that is why.” He took a handful of nuts. “You fuck with my money. I fuck with your money.”
“Well, I guess we are even. I’m sorry I lied before. Sent you off on those wild goose chases.”
“I sorry I make you bleed. Ludo hit harder than should.”
“You couldn’t have picked a worse time.”
He laughed. “Ludo picked perfect time.”
“How long is she in London for?”
“She go tomorrow. Midday I think.”
“You following behind her, Ludo? America?”
“No. Too far. I work Europe. Have friend in America. He take over.”
“What is going on with her and Max? Last I heard they were getting pretty serious. Is he here in London?”
“Max here. Arrive today.”
“At the premiere?”
“No premiere. He somewhere else.”
I took a few more sips of my drink, it was too thick, half of it left, should have ordered something I could have finished quicker.
“Have you heard any rumours?”
“Rumours?”
“About Lilly? Have you heard about her with anyone else?”
Ludo looked confused behind his beer. “Ludo hear nothing.”
I looked around the pub, it was quiet and late, I was nearly out of questions. Ludo wasn’t asking much back. I needed to get some sleep, get my head back into reality, back on Florida, work out how to explain a head wound when as far as they knew I hadn’t left our hotel room.
“Thanks for the drink, Ludo. I better start making tracks.”
“Stay one more. I pay. You finish drink.”
“I better not. Early start tomorrow.”
“I tell you more about Goodridge,” he smiled.
“Honestly, I better go.”
“Tomorrow? See you at airport?”
“You wave her off for me.” I picked up my stuff. “Good luck, Ludo. Hope you earn that big pay cheque someday. Hey, go easy on Goodridge.”
Ludo stood up, offered me his hand. “You good man, Thomas. I don’t like you. But you are good man.”
“See you around.”
Just then my phone buzzed. I looked down. Had to double take. Make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
Three digits.
Three digits I’d ignored for over a year, but three I wouldn’t ignore tonight.
67
In the panic to arrive on time, I’d arrived too early. It was agony and waiting felt cruel, bare knees, open toes, my body brittle, my bones ached like I could be snapped. A friend at the party lent me her coat and despite the body of fur its warmth wasn’t enough. The champagne had made me brave and hot-bloodied, both had started to wear off just when I needed them the most.
I was already concocting the various lies I may have to tell the next day if and when my absence was questioned. Rogan said he’d cover for me, though I didn’t know how much I could trust him, though to be honest he’d been cool so far, helped sneak me out, grabbed me a car, didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t try and talk me out of it.
I was still a little out of it, the last half hour had been a blur, adrenaline had subsided, reality was taking hold, I was starting to wonder what the hell I was about to do or say. I hadn’t expected Tom to answer seeing as he never had before, I very nearly hung up out of sheer shock. Had to think on my feet, think of where we could meet, away from everything, somewhere I could get to in a city I barely knew myself. Tom didn’t say much, agreed we needed to talk, asked me where and when, like I’d planned that far ahead.
God, I was petrified. I wasn’t prepared for face to face. Talking on the phone felt safer, I could hang up, he could hang up, at any point we could both escape. Meeting up like this, being able to see him up close, see what damage I’d caused, how much he hated me and how much I still loved him. It felt far too intimate.
The park was quiet, lifeless, stood under a street lamp on a street corner, in designer gown and floor-length furs. I was more prostitute than princes
s and I would have laughed if my jaw wasn’t froze shut by cold, laughter would have helped stopped the nerves. Funny I should choose this place of all places to meet, though not really, the only place I knew close enough to escape or flee, not that I would need to. I looked up, power lines, buildings so huge they made the sky look possible. I should have been more scared than I was out there in the dark and although I felt some fear I wasn’t fearful for my safety, just scared he wouldn’t show, but even more scared that he actually would.
Suddenly I heard something, the sound of iron gates being rattled, bushes and twigs being disturbed. I kept looking, maybe it was nothing, the wind and shadows playing tricks with me, just like they were supposed to. But then I saw him, watched as a silhouette landed on its feet, I had to stop myself from running to him, instinctively it felt the right thing to do, to sprint toward him, and him to sprint to me, but he didn’t run and nor did I. His walk was slow, his shoulders slumped, his body awkward. I caught glimpses of his face going in out of light and dark, he was hard to read, it changed with every step he got closer, from relief to anger, to happiness to disappointment. Like he didn’t quite know the appropriate emotion, torn between whether to slap me or never let me go.
68
“Hi.” I smiled, letting him know this was a happy invitation, not the opposite, not that it worked. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt.
“I’m sorry. Should have found somewhere indoors, with an open fire and good whiskey,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.
“You caught me off guard when you answered. It was the first place I thought of.” He seemed unconcerned about where he was, more concerned with why.
“Just making it clear. I didn’t know you were here. Me being in London at the same time was not deliberate. I wasn’t following you. Just some bizarre coincidence.”
“I’m just glad you are, Tom, and that we finally get to talk. I think there are things that need to be said between… Oh my God what happened to your head? You’re bleeding.” Instinctively I went to touch him.