The Blackwell Lessons: Teacher Student Romance (New Adult / College Romance) (Volume 4)

by Sk Quinn

  ‘I don’t have secrets from you.’

  ‘He said earlier—’

  ‘I know what he said. But … just trust me, Sophia. Sometimes in life, timing is everything. There are right and wrong times. Like telling you about Sigourney in a room full of people.’

  ‘Do you think she holds a grudge against you?’

  ‘Hopefully she’s moved on.’

  ‘I thought she was married now?’

  ‘I heard different.’

  26

  We spend the rest of the day choosing costumes, but Sigourney doesn’t turn up. I guess she must have a really bad hangover.

  Leo, Baz, Ruby and I actually have a lot of fun trying on costumes.

  Baz decides not to visit the pub in the end, and makes us laugh by wearing princess dresses and crowns. Ruby is considerate and interested in everyone – always asking questions. And Leo is the usual Leo, flirting and joking.

  In the end, our costumes all look great. And everyone agrees that the witch’s dress is the best choice for me.

  ‘It’s dark, but you’re so light,’ says Nadia. ‘So it’s perfect. Lots of contrast, you know?’

  Marc catches my eye at the mention of dark and light, and we smile at each other.

  As we’re leaving, Nadia makes an announcement.

  ‘Okay gang! So – tomorrow we’re on location. Tower of London. You arrive at six – yes that’s right. Six in the morning for hair and makeup. And then we’re shooting from nine to catch the light. So you, Baz Smith, will go straight home and have an early night. Understood? No pub for you today. Straight home.’

  ‘Yes Mum,’ says Baz.

  ‘I mean it! I want you clear-eyed tomorrow or no breakfast churros. I know you Baz Smith.’

  ‘Do you break your husband’s balls like you’re breaking mine?’

  ‘His balls are already broken. A long time ago. I keep them in my handbag, you want to see them?’

  ‘I’m not even sure you’re joking,’ Baz mumbles. ‘All right Nadia. I hear you loud and clear. You know, I should have married you when I had the chance. You would have kept me in line. Like Sophia does with Marc here.’

  ‘You never had the chance,’ says Nadia. ‘I don’t like men who sleep around.’

  ‘Oh come on!’ Baz’s eyes widen. ‘That was years ago. I don’t do that any more. I’m a changed man. Reformed.’

  ‘A changed man? Really? What do your ex-wives say about that?’

  ‘They all say the same thing. Can I have some more money please?’

  ‘I hope you pay them well. They deserve it. Any wife whose husband brings three girls to bed with him deserves a medal.’

  ‘I told you! I’m a changed man.’

  ‘Well let me call my husband. Tell him the marriage is off. I’ll run away with you instead.’

  ‘I’ll get the motor running …’

  ‘Nighty night all.’ Nadia gives us a big wave. ‘See you bright and breezy tomorrow morning.’

  The next day, I wake up feeling a little tired. I don’t know if it’s because of our busy day yesterday. Or …

  When I tell Marc, he isn’t pleased.

  ‘You need me on set with you today,’ he says. ‘To take care of you. Paparazzi be dammed.’

  ‘Marc, what if I am pregnant? We’re going to be shooting this movie for a long time. What are you going to do? Come on set with me every day? If you’re around, the press will cause a riot.’

  ‘Then maybe you should pull out.’

  ‘No way. Come on Marc. You know I’d never do that. It wouldn’t be fair on Nadia or anyone else. If I am pregnant, well … millions of women get pregnant and go to work without their husbands.’

  ‘You’re not millions of women.’

  ‘And what if I’m not pregnant?’

  Marc runs a hand through his hair. ‘You should never have accepted this movie—’

  ‘But I did. And you promised to support me.’

  ‘Yes,’ he says grimly. ‘This is hard for me. But you’re right. I did say I’d support you. So … I’ll try.’

  We drive to the Tower of London in Marc’s black Aston Martin.

  London sparkles in the sun, and I find myself marvelling at how lucky I am. To think – I’m married to Marc. Driving to act in my first movie.

  Wow.

  I find my fingers sliding to my stomach, wondering … could I be?

  Don’t think about that Sophia. You’ll drive yourself crazy.

  When we pull off Tower Bridge, there are security guards everywhere and a huge square of London is cordoned off with tall silver fences.

  ‘There is a lot of security around,’ I tell Marc. ‘Would that have something to do with you by any chance?’

  Marc smiles at the windscreen. ‘Perhaps.’ He pulls off the road and stops by security gates. ‘It’s going to be hard. Letting go of you today.’

  He leans over and kisses me. Then he releases me from my seatbelt and pulls me onto his lap, one hand still on the steering wheel.

  ‘You know, I could still drive away with you.’

  ‘You mean kidnap me?’ I say lightly.

  ‘Exactly right. Kidnap you. Tie you up.’ His fingers thread into my hair.

  ‘You think I’d be happy about that?’

  ‘Oh I know you’d be happy. For a little while, at least.’ His fingers tighten.

  ‘Are you trying to make me late for my first day of filming?’ I whisper.

  ‘Yes.’ Marc pulls my head back and kisses my neck.

  ‘Marc,’ I murmur. ‘Don’t make this difficult.’

  ‘It’s already difficult. Do you have any idea how much I’m going to miss you today? How much I’m going to worry about you?’

  ‘You have nothing to worry about.’ I kiss him quickly on the lips, then slide away from him back to the passenger seat. ‘I love you Marc. I’ll see you later, okay?’

  ‘Not okay. But I’ve been without you for three months before. I can manage a day. Just about. I’ll have something special planned for when you’re finished filming. So don’t tire yourself out.’

  ‘What kind of special?’

  ‘A surprise. At the townhouse. You’ll have to wait and see.’

  27

  After security let us through the gates, Marc and I say our goodbyes.

  It’s hard, watching him drive away. I miss him the moment he’s gone.

  ‘You lost, Mrs Blackwell?’ says a familiar voice, as I stand awkwardly in the car park.

  I smile. ‘Good morning Baz.’

  ‘It’s not a bad one, is it?’ Baz swaggers through the car park with a can of Monster Energy in his hand. He’s so tall and muscular that his shadow covers me completely.

  ‘Where’s your car?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ve got an apartment just over there,’ says Baz, jabbing a thumb towards the river. ‘I walked.’

  ‘Do you know where I’m supposed to go?’

  ‘You see that big, famous building right in front of us? I think we go there.’

  I look up at the Tower of London’s browny-white walls and the Union Jack flying. It really is the ultimate princess’s castle. The black ravens hopping around the lawns give it a slightly dark edge – just perfect for a Nadia Malbeck movie.

  ‘It’s sort of funny having temporary fences around such a historic London monument,’ I tell Baz. ‘It doesn’t seem right in a way. Everyone should be able to visit.’

  ‘Money talks,’ says Baz. ‘The film company have paid millions for this place. And it’s our playground today.’

  ‘Lucky us. I thought there’d be crowds all around the gates. Fans screaming your name. And Leo’s.’

  ‘Not yet,’ says Baz. ‘They’ve managed to keep the filming secret so far. But news travels fast in London. We’ll be mobbed soon.’

  ‘So … where do I go exactly? Nadia said to get here early for makeup. But where’s that?’

  ‘Come on.’ Baz grabs my arm and leads me across the tarmac. ‘There’s a marquee up there. Th
at’s usually where the action is.’

  I stumble along beside him, trying to keep up. ‘So you’ve known Marc a long time?’

  ‘Christ yes. He’s like a little brother to me.’

  ‘I wish you could have come to the wedding. It was silly, Marc not inviting you.’

  ‘It’s all right. I’m not offended. I know Marc. Having me around … he just didn’t want to be reminded of certain things, that’s all.’

  ‘What certain things?’

  ‘Listen Soph. You seem like a nice girl. Marc got up to some things he’s not all that proud of.’

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘He told me.’

  ‘Everything? Somehow I doubt that princess. Come on. Let’s get a cup of tea.’

  28

  The marquee is more like a luxurious room than a tent. It has a red carpet, and the wooden chairs scattered around have brass studs and thick leather cushioning. There are big spotlights, makeup cases on legs and a long wooden table holding a tea urn, giant cafetière and cardboard cups.

  I also see a makeshift changing room of curtains and wooden rods.

  Ruby sits in a plastic chair straightening her hair with gas tongs. Clouds of steam billow up as she pulls her curls straight.

  ‘Hey!’ She waves. ‘Good to see you guys. I was getting lonely. Word of advice – don’t eat the Chelsea buns. They’re rock hard.’

  ‘I’d better not touch them then,’ says Baz, putting a finger to his mouth. ‘This tooth is still lose after the last stunt I did. How about you, princess? You had breakfast yet?’

  ‘Some muesli,’ I say.

  ‘Muesli! What are you, a rabbit? Get some sugar in you girl. Have a stale Chelsea bun.’ He takes another swig of Monster Energy.

  ‘A cup of tea will be fine.’

  ‘Come on then.’ Baz claps his hands together. ‘Let’s all have a cup of tea.’

  ‘Don’t let Baz make the tea,’ Ruby calls out. ‘He’ll put twenty sugars in it. Or a shot of brandy.’

  Baz snorts. ‘Have you been looking in my recipe books?’

  After Baz has made everyone tea, including the makeup girls, he hands around the cardboard cups. When he passes me mine he says, ‘There you go, princess.’

  ‘Baz! Will you stop calling me princess.’

  ‘Sorry, but you’re stuck with that name now. It’s your own fault. You should never have complained about it. Now I have to call you princess because I know it pisses you off.’

  ‘My little brother is more grown-up than you,’ I mutter. ‘And he can barely walk.’

  ‘You’ve got a baby brother?’ Baz’s eyes soften. ‘Have you got any pictures?’

  ‘I do as it happens.’

  I take out my phone and show him pictures of Sammy.

  ‘He’s a funny little lad, isn’t he?’ says Baz, a soppy smile on his face. ‘Reminds me of my boys when they were young.’

  ‘You have sons?’

  ‘Three. With three different women. Don’t you read the newspapers?’

  ‘Not often.’

  ‘Smart girl.’

  ‘Are you with any of the mothers now?’ I ask.

  ‘Nope. Wish I was. I messed up the last one, as per usual. All my own fault. So I’m free and single and ready to cause mayhem. Anyway, enough about me. How’s Marc doing these days?’

  ‘Good I think. He speaks highly of you.’

  ‘I speak highly of him too. I’ve got nothing but respect for him. He may dress like a ponce, but he’s the toughest bloke I’ve ever met.’

  ‘I heard you took Marc bare-knuckle boxing when he was just a kid.’

  ‘He was an angry young man. He needed to channel it. He would have ended up in prison otherwise, trust me. I nearly did plenty of times. Fighting saved me too.’

  ‘What was Marc like? When he first started?’

  Baz raises an eyebrow. ‘Lethal. His first fight he got pummelled. We all do. But after that … I’ve never seen anyone so fast. I made a few quid on him, I can tell you. No one expected the pampered little boy actor to hit so hard. He tore down anyone in front of him. After that first fight, I never saw him lose.’

  ‘I’m glad he doesn’t fight any more.’

  ‘I doubt the fight has left him. It never does. If you’ve had time in the ring you want to get back in there. It’s like an addiction.’

  ‘He hasn’t boxed in the time I’ve known him,’ I say. ‘And I’m glad.’

  ‘Women! You lot just don’t understand. Fighting is fun.’

  ‘Even when you get hit?’

  ‘Especially when you get hit. Then you want to pound the guy even harder.’

  ‘We don’t want to understand,’ Ruby shouts from her makeup chair. ‘What goes on in men’s heads is best left there.’

  ‘Are you girls picking on poor Baz?’ Leo strolls into the marquee holding a greeny-brown smoothie in a domed cup.

  ‘Fucking hell mate,’ says Baz. ‘What are you drinking? It looks like gone-off curry.’

  ‘This is my nutritious breakfast,’ says Leo. ‘Tofu, wheatgrass and a few other natural pick-me-ups.’

  Baz shakes his head. ‘Give me egg, bacon and sausage any day of the week.’

  While my hair and makeup is being done, I send Marc a text.

  On set. In hair and makeup. Missing you already. Are you going to tell me more about this surprise you have planned? Your loving wife xx

  Always so impatient, my loving wife. It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you more. Don’t tire yourself out. I’m missing you too. Your loving husband.

  How much do you miss me? xx

  Unbearably. Does that help? I hate you being away from me.

  What would you do if I was there? xx

  I’d force you to rest. Maybe by tying you to a chair.

  Fully clothed? xx ;)

  Mrs Blackwell, you certainly know how to torture your husband.

  Are you avoiding the question loving husband? I thought married men weren’t supposed to keep things from their wives. xx

  And wives aren’t supposed to tease their husbands.

  Or else what? Xx

  There’ll be consequences.

  Like? Xx

  Haven’t we talked about Pandora’s box before?

  I grin to myself at that last message, imagining Marc both frowning and smiling at his phone. But I just can’t resist teasing him a little more …

  Mr Blackwell, I don’t mean to be so curious. It’s a bad habit of mine. Perhaps you could teach me better behaviour. xx

  Very well. When you come home, I will sit you naked on a hard wooden chair. I will tie your to the chair legs and bind your wrists behind you. Then I will cane your legs until you beg me to stop. Then I will fuck you. Do you think you’ll learn your lesson then?

  29

  ‘Okay, so how do you like your hair?’ asks the hair stylist, twirling my chair around in front of the mirror.

  ‘Oh!’ I turn my phone over on my lap so she can’t see Marc’s last message. Then I look up at the mirror. My eyes widen. ‘Wow. It looks really amazing. Thanks.’ I cross and uncross my legs, hoping my blushing neck isn’t too obvious.

  The stylist has added about twenty hair pieces so my hair goes all the way to my feet in one long plait. She’s plaited my real hair in too, but left it kind of loose and natural – although she’s added some shiny stuff to stop it frizzing up. And she’s woven silver threads through the whole style to give me a princessy look.

  ‘Makeup next,’ says the hair stylist. ‘I’ll send Casey over.’

  I glance down at my phone and text:

  Can’t message any more. Having makeup done. Can’t wait to get home. xx

  I did warn you about Pandora’s box …

  Just as our hair, makeup and costumes are in order, Nadia arrives.

  She checks her watch and frowns.

  ‘No Sigourney yet?’

  ‘Haven’t seen her,’ says Ruby.

  ‘For fuck’s sake. I told her. On time today. We’re shooting on lo
cation.’ She points at a man with a clipboard and earpiece. ‘Daryl. Call her, okay? She has five minutes to get here. If she doesn’t, she’s off the movie. I’ll get a replacement. I don’t care.’

  Leo and Ruby exchange glances.

  ‘Okay!’ Nadia claps her hands. ‘Everybody ready? My word, you all look so beautiful. I am so lucky to work with such good-looking people! My sister is a stockbroker and she works with all these ugly people in suits all day. I don’t know HOW she does it.’

  The first shoot takes place right outside the Tower of London. Ravens peck the lawn nearby and flags fly around us.

  As the camera people are setting up, a tall, ill-looking girl stalks across the lawn.

  I guess, judging by her height and skinniness, that she’s Sigourney. But she doesn’t look much like her photos.

  ‘You started without me?’ she calls. ‘Thanks a lot.’

  ‘Sophia,’ Leo whispers. ‘Meet Sigourney. My ever-so-easygoing ex.’

  I let out a snigger, and Sigourney glares at me.

  She’s beautiful in a way. But a little pointy looking, with sharp cheekbones and a long, angular nose. Her brown hair is pulled back tight in a bun and she wears big black sunglasses. There are a few spots on her white cheeks and her skin looks tired. Like she could use some healthy food and a good night’s sleep.

  Sigourney doesn’t greet any of us, but she sidles up to Nadia and whispers in her ear.

  Nadia nods, not looking at Sigourney, then calls the camera people over. They all huddle in a corner, talking in hushed voices.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ says Ruby, fluffing out her fairy skirt.

  ‘Sigourney making drama,’ says Leo. ‘Just like always.’

  ‘She should be fucking apologising to us for being late, ’scuse my language,’ says Baz. He’s wearing chain mail, a metal helmet and a huge sword.

  ‘What’s going on Nadia?’ he calls out. ‘This costume weighs a ton. I’m fucking boiling, ’scuse my language. Oh fuck it – you ladies are going to have to get used to my language. Otherwise I’ll be apologising every other second. Anyway. We can’t sit around all day waiting for Miss Supermodel to get her act together.’