New Hope for the Little Cornish Farmhouse

by Nancy Barone

  The next morning the car arrived bang on time to take us to Heathrow airport where we’d be boarding a direct flight to LAX. Listen to me – until yesterday Lax was my nickname for laxatives and now I was already slipping into the lingo. I could already picture a casual conversation with the folks at The Post Of ice and The Post Of ice Cream:

  ‘Where are you jetting off to this time, Nina?’

  ‘Oh, nowhere special, Deirdre. Just to LAX.’

  ‘Oh, how wonderful, Nina! And what will you be doing there?’

  ‘Oh, same old, same old. Writing my successful scripts.’

  ‘Oh, aren’t you the pride of Penworth Ford now?’

  ‘That’s right, Deirdre. No more Monday morning coronaries trying to get the kids to school, my arancini to the restaurant on time, completely bypassing the pressing phone calls for money, which I now have, thank you very much!’

  It was nice to dream.

  Ironically, the day of our departure was a Monday morning, only this one saw us washed, fed and dressed way ahead of schedule. Chloe had her favourite jeans on and all her magazines (I gave in in the end, fresh start and all that) and Ben had his crossword puzzles and his portable dictionary with him. Chloe rolled her eyes but gave him a fake punch in the shoulder.

  ‘Ready, sport?’

  ‘Hollywood, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,’ he answered. Oh God, listen to these two, I thought. Had they been bingeing on American sitcoms while I wasn’t looking?

  Alice was already at the airport in an exquisite cream-coloured pants suit. Me, I had done my best in a linen dress, which turned out to be a horrible idea, because as we climbed the steps into the jet I could feel the sweat sticking my wrinkly outfit to the back of my damp thighs. Maybe I should’ve worn trousers, but Alice had said to dress smart. It only dawned on me then that she meant for the meeting, not the flight. Duh.

  ‘Is there any news?’ I asked her as we buckled up, Ben and Chloe on my left, Alice on my right.

  ‘None. Just that we have an appointment with Ben Stein on Wednesday afternoon.’

  I nodded, making a mental note on what I was going to say about the book. Of course I’d totally deny it was autobiographical – what the hell did they know about divorced mums in Cornwall anyway?

  As the plane’s engines roared to life, Chloe paled and she turned to me, her eyes huge in fear. I leant over Ben, taking her hand, which she gripped. ‘It’s okay, Chloe. You are safer here than in a car.’

  ‘Especially Lottie!’ Ben added, craning his head to see out the window next to him.

  ‘These planes are built to take off and land a million times a day, and every time they get checked thoroughly. It’s perfectly safe.’

  She nodded, the rational side of her clutching at my words, but her hand still gripping mine.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, biting her lip. ‘Please don’t tell anyone.’

  ‘Of course not, sweetheart.’ Didn’t she know that I lived for her and Ben, and that I would never do anything to humiliate them? Because if she didn’t, it was something I needed to work on even harder.

  As the plane soared into the air, Ben’s face practically burst with excitement as he craned his neck to take in every inch of the view. Chloe gasped and I made a show of breathing deeply.

  ‘It’s all right, we’re fine. Look around you, everyone’s happy. And if you’re still not convinced, look at the flight attendants. They do this so many times it’s actually nothing at all to them anymore.’

  ‘Look, Mum! Windsor Castle! And… Legoland? Mum!’

  Ben was gaga over Lego. ‘Hmm,’ I said. ‘We’re going to have to check that out when we get back to England.’

  He gasped. ‘Really, Mum?’

  Really, Mum. If I couldn’t do that for him now, where was the joy in making money? Of course, on the outside, I’d still be the staid, strict-ish mother who was their guide and driving force. But inside, I allowed myself to be naff and daft, making lists of all the things we’d actually have the money and time to do. It was fun!

  I sat back, still holding Chloe’s hand. ‘And maybe a trip to the Victoria and Albert Museum?’

  Her eyes bulged even more, only this time with incredulity. ‘You mean a trip to London?’

  It was ridiculous that we were going to America while they’d only been to London once. ‘Yes. We’ll plan it when we get back. Maybe we could even fly from Newquay – what do you think?’

  She thought about it, looking around. ‘We would have never been able to do this before your book got noticed by Hollywood, right?’

  ‘Exactly. So maybe writing it wasn’t a bad thing after all?’

  She bit her lip. ‘I don’t know yet. I’ll think about it.’

  It was going to take me more than a tour of some snazzy film studio to win this one over, as she was determined to maintain the upper hand. But I was just as determined to turn her into a happy and polite person. Well-read wouldn’t be bad, either. I smiled. ‘You do that, sweetie.’

  Would you believe me if I told you that as we exited LAX hours later, it was pouring down with rain? I thought it never rained in California. Wasn’t that how the song went?

  When we were met by a stretch limo, for once Ben was at a loss for words, lapsing into a repeated ‘Wowww! Mum, look! Look at the size of the roads! And look at the skyscrapers!’ while Chloe sat in absolute silence, her blue eyes enormous with wonder. No, I didn’t think we were in Cornwall anymore.

  As the rain lashed at the car, we pulled up under a mega-glass awning at a swanky hotel.

  The kids weren’t the only ones impressed by the sleek luxury of our surroundings. A long white counter that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the deck of The Starship Enterprise served as the reception while young gorgeous people of every colour but one size spoke into headsets or to equally swanky people pouring in and out through the sliding glass doors.

  ‘Will you be having dinner in the hall or in your rooms?’ a pretty Asian receptionist asked me. She was so beautiful she could’ve been a star herself, which, a glance around me revealed, was pretty much the norm here.

  ‘Uhm, in the hall, please.’ I scouted around for someone as normal-looking as me and found absolutely no one. Who was I kidding? I pulled my jacket closer over my abundant chest and followed Alice and the kids who were following a porter into a lift. I mean, an elevator.

  ‘Thirtieth floor,’ he informed us as the doors pinged open practically a couple of breaths after climbing in.

  This was the closest we’d ever come to my idea of paradise.

  Our suite was the size of the ground floor of the farmhouse back home, so white and glossy I was afraid we’d dirty it with our luggage and travel shoes.

  I felt like Vivian in Pretty Woman in the luxurious hotel room.

  ‘Dibs!’ Chloe called as she launched herself onto the white comforter of the queen-sized bed in the far corner of the room, leaving Ben and me to share the other queen. Which was fine by me. Any excuse to cuddle up to at least one of my kids without seeming too s-motherly was a bonus.

  Alice and I watched the kids ooh-ing and ah-ing. And then they started to argue over the TV remote.

  ‘Chloe, Ben, settle down. We don’t want to make ourselves known here as well, do we?’

  Alice laughed. ‘But that’s exactly what we want! For everyone to know who you are and what you’ve written. This is your time, Nina!’

  I grinned. ‘You’re right. My destiny will be written in the stars, just like my heroine’s.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ Alice agreed, looking around, perhaps no longer unaccustomed to so much space after having to squeeze into her own London flat. ‘I’ll be next door,’ she said, ‘washing the aeroplane smells out of my hair.’

  The exact opposite of me. I didn’t want to erase a single moment of this dream come true.

  *

  ‘Can I have a burger, Mummy?’ Ben asked as we later pored over the menus in the hotel restaurant. Outside it was still raining, but i
nside, we were Walkin’ On Sunshine.

  Chloe rolled her eyes and said, ‘Ben, we’ve got to act just a little bit more sophisticated now that we’re in America…’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ I said. ‘Just be yourselves. Right, Alice?’

  Three sets of eyes swung to her checking her teeth in the cutlery. ‘Hm? Yeah, sure. Listen, I’ve been meaning to tell you—’

  ‘There they are,’ came a jolly booming voice from behind my back. Behind my back being the operative words, as I would soon find out.

  Alice cleared her throat and stood up. ‘Nina, kids – this is Mr Ben Stein.’

  I half-rose like I’d seen in a movie and he gripped my hand so tight I thought he was trying to pull me out of my seat. He was a dead-ringer for Jason Alexander from Seinfeld but he was, at the moment, giving me the vibes of his other role, the horrible lawyer in Pretty Woman, the one that tries to shaft Richard Gere and, incidentally, Julia Roberts. Now she was a street-wise girl if there ever was one. I decided to go with my gut and be wary, because this man had our future in his hands.

  Why hadn’t Alice mentioned this encounter? Weren’t we supposed to be meeting the next day? Or – God help us – had the deal been called off just as we’d been flying in or something? I needed to know now. I was a big girl. I could take it on the chin, whatever the news was.

  ‘Sit, sit, sit. Nice to meet you all, finally! And who do we have here, my namesake Ben! Nice to meet you, buddy!’

  Oh God, please don’t let him be condescending or Ben’s going to hate him straight off the bat, I prayed behind a smile I wasn’t feeling. Already alarm bells were ringing and I made a mental note to chew Alice out for this later. I don’t know why, but years of watching my back had sharpened my sixth sense, and it was very ill at ease at the moment.

  ‘Are you all ready for this extraordinary adventure?’ Ben Stein asked no one in particular but making eye contact with all of us in turn.

  Chloe shrugged. ‘I want to know who’s going to be acting in it. I’ve got a bet at school.’

  Ben Stein laughed. ‘Oh, really? Who’s your money on for the male lead?’

  ‘My mate’s mum says it’s going to be Ashton Kutcher and maybe Kate Winslet.’

  I snorted my coffee, narrowly missing Ben Stein’s sleeve. ‘Sorry,’ I said, but continued to chuckle to myself at the mere thought. Me, portrayed by Kate Winslet. I only wished.

  ‘Does that tickle your fancy?’ Ben Stein asked in an exaggerated British accent. ‘Who do you see, Nina? Or should I call you Fab, because you certainly are fab, young lady.’

  Fab and young? Give me a break.

  ‘Two fibs in one sentence, well done. You’re not a Hollywood producer for nothing,’ was the dumbest thing I could say, but I said it. Which, luckily, made him laugh. Unless he was an Academy Award winner for acting as well.

  ‘Nina, I wanted to meet you and your kids before the official meeting tomorrow because—’

  Uh-oh, here it came.

  ‘We’re having a bit of a problem at the moment.’

  I could feel my Bloody Mary turning into a Bloody Ben (the older Ben) in the pit of my stomach. Why didn’t he just come out and say it – the movie was a no-go. I chanced a glance at Alice who was too busy with her own Bloody Mary to meet my eyes.

  ‘Oh? What kind of problem?’

  ‘Just… producer stuff. Executive decisions.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning that we don’t want to change anything about your book. We love it just the way it is.’

  I don’t know why, but I exhaled. But of course I know why. I was terrified they’d Hollywood the book all up. Make the female lead be someone absolutely glamorous like Scarlett Johansson or Charlize Theron. The book had worked because it was about a normal woman.

  The guy, admittedly, would have to be half as handsome as Phil had been. And have the same boyish charm. Not to mention the new love in Stella’s life. Good luck pulling that one off.

  ‘Who would you see in your role, Nina?’

  I coughed. ‘Uh… I’m not in the book, Ben. The heroine’s name is Stella. It’s a work of fiction.’

  Ben Stein bowed. ‘Yes, yes of course. We need someone super-talented to match the male lead. Someone who can step up to the plate – a consummate actress that normal women can relate to at the same time. Have you got any names off hand?’

  They were asking me? ‘Uh… I dunno. Maybe Reese Witherspoon?’

  He nodded. ‘Nice, nice. Anyone else?’

  I darted a glance at Alice. ‘What do you think, Alice?’

  She jumped as if I’d startled her in the shower of her own home and then shot a glance at Ben Stein, while my Ben followed the conversation like it was a ping-pong match. Chloe, I noticed, was lost in contemplation of the fashion scene around her. Something was not right. What were these two up to?

  ‘Me?’ she asked. ‘I don’t know, really. It’s up to you, Nina.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ I answered.

  ‘What if it was?’ Ben Stein asked.

  I stared at him.

  ‘What if I could get you anyone of your choice?’

  Was I dreaming, or would the restaurant suddenly reveal the Candid Camera crew? But then again, who was I that they’d be playing a joke on me?

  ‘You’re the producer. Anyone you choose will be fine by me. Well, except for maybe Cher or Liz Taylor.’

  Ben Stein guffawed. ‘That’s more like it. I just wanted to know if you had an idea of who you wanted or didn’t want.’

  I shrugged. ‘Who’s in the running?’

  ‘I can get you anyone you want.’

  ‘Right. Wow, uhm… thank you.’

  Ben Stein stood up. ‘So, I’ll see you all at the studios tomorrow! Sleep tight, kids.’

  Alice nodded and polished off the last of her drink, raising her hand for another one.

  ‘What the hell was that all about?’ I hissed when he was out of earshot.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked innocently.

  I rotated my head in an exaggerated gesture. ‘No producer goes to all the trouble to meet some obscure author the day before an official meeting. So what’s going on, Alice? Why do I feel I’ve just been tricked?’

  She gulped and put down her empty glass. ‘All right. I can’t tell you everything yet, but I feel that trust here is an issue.’ She took my wrist. ‘Nina, trust me when I say you will thank me tomorrow.’

  ‘Thank you for what?’

  ‘I can’t tell you. But Ben is in it completely. He’s one hundred per cent behind this project. But so is someone else. Someone I somehow feel you’d prefer, but I’m holding out for the highest bid.’

  ‘There’s a bidding on my book?’

  ‘Not really. They’re willing to produce it together, but there’s a catch.’

  ‘But of course.’ How stupid of me. After all, this was Hollywood, land of lies and compromises, right? ‘What’s the catch?’ I persisted and Alice hung her head. Bingo. Man, not here three hours and already I was Hollywood-savvy.

  ‘Alice?’

  She groaned. ‘The other producer is threatening to walk unless he gets his say in a few things.’

  ‘Walk? Oh, I get it. He’s got some protégé to pimp. I understand. As long as she’s good and doesn’t make the movie tank, I’m okay with it. I just want to sign the contract and get on with writing the script.’

  Alice hugged me. ‘Everything will be okay. Just trust your gut.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me who the other person is?’

  She grinned. ‘No, not yet. I’m going for the shock effect.’

  ‘Shock effect? Alice, I’m barely hanging on here…’

  ‘It’ll be fine, you’ll see. Just do what I say and you won’t have to worry about a thing for the rest of your life, baby.’

  Enough of all the drama. All I wanted to do was sign my name on the dotted line and go back to Penworth Ford before the kids got too homesick. And, obviously, enjoy the royalties. M
aybe even start on that new book with my new-found confidence. And the comfort of a new heating system. It was funny how you could suddenly get creative when you weren’t worried about survival all the time.

  8

  Once Upon A Time In Hollywood

  The next morning I got up early and showered before changing into my meeting outfit. I took extra care with my hair and make-up and donned my favourite LBD that did wonders for my figure. When the car and nanny arrived, I hugged Chloe and Ben fiercely, reminding Ben to watch his step and Chloe to watch her mouth.

  ‘Can you give me a heads-up?’ I asked for the third time that morning as I slid into the limo next to Alice, but she put her finger on her lips and tilted her head towards the driver. I groaned. ‘What can you tell me?’

  ‘That we’re on our way to see the team of producers for a preliminary meeting.’

  No surprise there. And yet, I had to ask myself how much I trusted Alice. Which was sad. She’d been my friend years now. Gosh, one night in LA and already I was looking over my shoulder. The place rubbed off on you pretty easily, I had to say.

  In ten minutes we arrived at the headquarters of TakeFive Studios and were beamed up to the penthouse floor. As the elevator swooped up, I wondered what I was getting myself into, if this was too good to be true and whether I would find myself out on my arse within the hour and on a plane back to England where all my problems would be waiting for me. Only there’d also be the humiliation of returning empty-handed. It would take me a little longer to readjust to my old life.

  ‘Act like you don’t know him,’ Alice whispered into my ear as we were being ushered into a large white office where a bunch of people were sitting and it became immediately clear that I was overdressed in my LBD.

  ‘What?’ I whispered back without moving my lips. Act like I didn’t know Ben Stein? Why? Oh my God, what the hell had she done?

  ‘Ms Conte, what a pleasure to finally meet you,’ he drawled, holding out his hand. I stared at it. ‘I’m Ben Stein. This is Anna Weiss, Marty Roth and this here is—’

  I looked over to a man holding his hand out to me. And almost had a coronary on the spot.