From London with Love

by Jemma Forte

  Paul arrived back with more drinks and a couple of packets of crisps. ‘Sorry if I got a bit heavy before,’ he shrugged, wrenching open the packets. He’d given more of himself away than he had to anyone in years and now wasn’t feeling quite brave enough to look Jessica in the eye.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, waving her hand around dismissively before letting it dive into the chips or ‘crisps’. ‘I’m sorry too for sounding a bit “woe is me”. I feel bad actually. My mom does try and – well, deep down I’m pretty fond of her, you know? I mean, she has her faults but … at least I know she loves me, I guess.’

  ‘Good,’ said Paul. ‘So no more depressing chat about our dysfunctional families, although at least now you know why I can’t stand people who aren’t straight up. My dad has a lot to answer for.’

  ‘Er, yeah,’ said Jessica, trying to swallow away a rather large lump of doubt that seemed to have lodged in her throat.

  A couple of drinks later, they left the pub and strolled through the leafy streets, eventually reaching Primrose Hill. It was dark by now and the twinkly lights of the city winked at them through the darkness. Paul stopped and put his arms around her.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ said Jessica.

  ‘So are you,’ said Paul, drawing her towards him and kissing her right there and then.

  It was an amazing kiss and the force of feeling behind it quite overwhelming. Jessica kissed him back and her hands travelled up his back to his hair, which she stroked, gently pulling his face further into hers.

  ‘Oh my gosh,’ Jessica gasped when they finally came up for air a while later. ‘That was –’

  But Paul hadn’t finished. He kissed her again, gently scraping her bottom lip with his teeth and sprinkling little fairy kisses around her mouth before sliding his tongue back in again. Jessica was now, without a shadow of a doubt, in kissing heaven and she found herself pressing up against him, wanting more. She honestly couldn’t imagine anywhere she’d rather be in the world and any last remaining doubts she may have had about getting involved disappeared altogether. Not that she had much choice. Her mouth couldn’t get enough of him. His lips were the perfect combination of firm yet soft. When they did eventually pull away Jessica couldn’t get rid of the huge beam that had taken up residence on her face.

  Meanwhile, Paul, who was equally saturated with both desire and happiness, was dying to be at home in his bedroom with her so much, it was taking all his restraint not to just flag down a cab and bundle her in without asking. Still, that could be translated as kidnapping, so instead he whispered for the second time in a week, ‘Come home with me, Jess?’

  And ignoring all her instincts, Jessica found herself replying, ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Really?’ said Paul, looking unbelievably disappointed before leaning in to gently kiss her again.

  Jessica sighed. The combination of the almost full moon and the streetlight meant that she could see just how much he wanted her in those intense, beautiful eyes of his. She could feel it too, thanks to something she’d just noticed pressing against her. She was only grateful that females didn’t have to deal with giveaway erections, for if they did, hers would have probably catapulted Paul down the hill by now. There was no question that she wanted them to be in bed together as much as he did, but something (something annoying) was making her want to wait a little longer. Probably the fact that, deep down, she wanted this to be more meaningful than some holiday fling, wanted to be able to look back one day and be able to say she’d waited. Yet until now she’d convinced herself that the only thing that could happen between them was a holiday romance, in which case why bother waiting? Besides, if he liked her anywhere near as much as she liked him then why would he think less of her? Had she just been programmed to think that you only ‘put out’ after at least three dates? God, who even gave a shit? She was out of breath with longing, dizzy with desire and desperate to be naked in bed with him. She knew it would be mind-blowing, so what the hell?

  Jessica pressed into him again, inviting him with her pelvis to persuade her to change her mind. However, to her bitter disappointment, now Paul was the one pulling away.

  ‘As much as I don’t mind admitting that I am dying to get you back to my place, you’re right,’ he said reluctantly.

  ‘I am?’ said Jessica, gulping, determined to disguise how gutted she was. Why had she said no? What an idiot. Disappointment and frustration practically engulfed her and yet she was comforted by the fact that she knew they both wanted it to happen one day.

  Having admitted defeat, and knowing full well that there was one thing guaranteed to dilute the atmosphere, she added, ‘Oh, well, I guess we do need to be on top form for tomorrow’s production meeting.’

  She was right. The merest allusion to Mike was enough to kill the moment and put things back on to a friendly footing. Paul had to laugh before saying, ‘I’ll try not to feel too insulted that you’re turning me down for the sake of being fresh for one of Mike’s production meetings. Although I like to think I could have shown you a slightly more interesting time,’ he added hopefully, bending his head down to give her one last lingering snog.

  As Jessica kissed him back, she nodded. Of course he would have done, which was why – unbeknown to him – she had been on the very brink of saying, just as Kerry would have done in her shoes, ‘Fuck it.’

  They’d better sort out their next date quickly though, she thought ruefully, as she wasn’t sure how much more waiting she could cope with.

  26

  ‘Right, you ’orrible lot,’ joked Mike, delighted to be back at the helm of yet another Tuesday production meeting. He was in good spirits today. Last night he’d managed to persuade a sceptical Diane to meet with Jessica tonight so she could decide whether she was good babysitting material. He was purposefully wearing a white shirt that showed off his tan and had already clocked a few appreciative looks. He’d definitely got one from Natasha and was pretty sure that Vanessa had given him the once-over too. The lion was back in his lair.

  ‘Firstly, I want to say well done for coping so well while I was away.’ Paul snorted loudly at this but Mike continued unabashed. ‘Secondly, I want you all to listen up because I’ve got big news. Huge, in fact.’

  People visibly perked up a little. Isy even went as far as lifting her head up off the desk.

  ‘I’ve finally persuaded David Bridlington that it’s time we reinvented the wheel a little,’ announced Mike, being slightly economical with the truth. ‘It took some doing, as you can probably imagine, but I think I’ve brought him round to my way of thinking. As a result, I’m pleased to announce that in September we are going to be doing a two-hour special which has been designed especially to coincide with a huge event in the showbiz calendar.’ He paused and started pacing the floor behind his chair. ‘Now, we’re going to be navigating uncharted waters here. It’ll be our first ever themed show and we need it to feel fresh, yet slick, because if it goes well then “t’powers that be”,’ he said in a mock northern accent, instantly managing to offend about a quarter of the people present, ‘might look at us doing some more specials. So any guesses as to what the theme of the show is going to be?’

  Twenty faces stared back, some baleful, others curious, though in the main, vacant was the key expression. Maureen’s eyes appeared to be closed. Mike frowned.

  ‘Maureen!’ he yelled at the costume supervisor, causing her to jump three feet in the air.

  ‘What?’ she said, gathering her wits about her. ‘Um, so Bradley’s going to be in royal blue this Thursday and I’ve also received a twenty per cent discount card for River Island should anyone want to borrow it.’ This warranted a ripple of applause.

  Mike sighed. ‘Come on now, guys. Has anyone who’s not half asleep got any ideas about what our show’s theme might be?’

  Jessica, who was sitting directly behind Paul, stared longingly at the back of his neck, wishing she could kiss it and reliving last night’s date scene by scene. She loved how
dark his hair was, and longed to run her hands through it. Then she jumped as Paul twisted round in his seat. ‘I wonder if he’s ever considered just telling us a bit of information without turning it into a drama?’

  She stifled a giggle, torn between seeing Paul’s point while actually feeling quite sorry for Mike, whom she knew was just desperate to evoke a bit of interest from the team. She’d agreed to go and meet his wife and kids after work later, though they’d both promised not to tell anyone. Her only reservation was that if she passed inspection, she wouldn’t be able to see Paul tomorrow night either as she’d be babysitting. Then it would be show day on Thursday … God, how frustrating.

  ‘It’s not fashion week, is it?’ guessed Natasha, earning herself a grateful smile from the boss who’d been patiently waiting for an answer.

  ‘No, but thanks. Anyone else?’

  Some shrugged, some made comedy faces to show they were at least trying to think. Others continued to look blank.

  ‘OK,’ said Mike. ‘I’ll give you a clue. What film is due to come out in the autumn? A film that is part of a brand in itself?’

  Suddenly there was one person in the room who knew what the answer might be.

  ‘Jessica?’ said Mike, who had noticed her flinch. ‘Any ideas?’

  She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just shook her head vigorously and flushed red.

  ‘Ooh, hang on a minute,’ piped up Luke, looking enthusiastic about something other than pawing Kerry’s leg under the table for the first time that morning. ‘It’s not Bond, is it? Isn’t the next Daniel Craig movie coming out around that time? It would be fucking wicked if it was Bond.’

  ‘At last,’ declared Mike triumphantly. ‘Somebody is bloody listening,’ he said, pretending to put an imaginary noose around his neck and pull it. ‘We have lift off!’ he declared, having finished pretending to hang himself. ‘Bond!’ he shouted, really getting into his stride and startling Jessica, whose nerves had already managed to fray themselves. ‘Double-oh seven! Everyone’s favourite spy. The latest Daniel Craig is out on twenty-seventh September and we are going to do a whole special dedicated to it. So, Kerry and Jessica, while I appreciate that we only have about seven weeks to book guests, I’d like to brainstorm with everyone now about who, in an ideal world, we would love to have on. Of course, we absolutely need at least one Bond to make it a goer, a Bond girl –’ he paused to give a laddish leer – ‘and a villain would be good. So, any ideas please?’

  Jessica had an idea. Her idea was to get up, leave and throw herself from the top of the building. She tried desperately to think of an excuse that she could use to extricate herself from the room, but her mind was blank. The only thing in it was panic, which was racing up and down like a headless chicken …

  ‘Well, initial thoughts are that I’ll be starting with Daniel Craig and working my way back from there,’ said Kerry. ‘I’d say there’s a pretty good chance he’ll do it. After all, he’s already guaranteed to be in town for the première anyway and they won’t get a better chance to promote the movie than this.’

  ‘Oh, can’t we get Edward Granger?’ whined Natasha.

  ‘Edward Granger, eh?’ said Mike, his hands on his hips in a way that made him look ever so slightly effeminate.

  ‘Ooh, yeah,’ she replied, flirting outrageously. ‘He’s the best. Everyone pretends it’s all about Daniel Craig but deep down what they really want is Edward … or Pierce. I wouldn’t mind a look at his lethal weapon either.’

  ‘Naughty girl,’ said Mike, pretending to look shocked but loving every minute of it.

  ‘My mum met Edward Granger once,’ piped up Paul, causing Jessica to stare at him as if he’d just announced an intention to blow up the building. ‘It was years ago,’ he continued, blissfully unaware of the palpitations he was causing Jessica. ‘She won a competition to go to one of his premières and he was there with Angelica Dupree. Mum still raves on about how “dishy” Edward Granger was. Apparently old Heavenly Melons went into labour that very same evening too.’

  ‘At which point they became Milky Melons,’ quipped Luke.

  ‘Wow,’ said Natasha. ‘That’s so cool.’

  ‘Well, I’ll definitely put a call in,’ said Kerry. ‘Let’s face it, I’ll put a call in to all the Bonds. More the merrier, I reckon.’

  ‘Or Roger Moore the merrier,’ interjected Mike, looking truly delighted by his play on words.

  ‘But I can tell you now,’ continued Kerry, ignoring Mike but wondering vaguely why Jessica was looking so odd, ‘Edward Granger’s agent, Jill Cunningham, is one of the toughest in Hollywood and given that he doesn’t have anything he needs to promote at the moment it’s not like he needs the publicity. I bet she’d make a stink about him sharing the limelight with other guests.’

  Jessica sank a little lower in her seat, as low as she was able without slipping off altogether. She felt sick and her heart thumped loudly in her chest. This was literally the worst thing that could have happened and she’d have to quit, surely? There was no way she could endure having to listen to people talking about her dad … and quite possibly her mom too … oh, God.

  ‘Shame,’ added Vanessa on cue. ‘I bloody love Edward Granger too. He’s frigging gorgeous and that scene where he escaped from that mad African despot and then scaled that tower to save Heavenly Melons was hot. The way he flung her on to the bed for a quick one before saving her always got me going.’

  For once Jessica was glad she couldn’t understand much of what her colleague had said. She wanted to put her fingers in her ears and sing. Blood thumped round her head.

  Julian piped up. ‘I don’t know how you girls can be sitting here talking about the cheesy housewife favourite Bonds while missing out the original and the best. I’m sorry, but without a shadow of a doubt the best possible guest we could get other than Craig would be Sean Connery. And, quite frankly, to say otherwise is akin to Bond heresy.’

  A few people muttered their agreement. Mike put his hands in his pockets and chewed his lip as he mulled this over, loving the debate that had ensued.

  ‘Actually,’ said Paul, ‘while I agree with Julian that Connery is undoubtedly the best Bond ever by far –’ Julian gave him a satisfied thumbs-up – ‘thinking about it now, if you could get Daniel Craig, who – let’s face it – is vying for the top spot with Connery and has to be the guest we most need, then if you could get Heavenly Melons on as our Bond girl, I think we’d have a ratings winner. I don’t know one man alive who didn’t fall in love with her in The World in Your Hand, for two very obvious reasons. In fact, other than possibly Ursula Andress or maybe Halle Berry, she is unquestionably the sexiest Bond girl of all time. Quite apart from that, I bet she’d be really interesting to talk to too. I mean, she wasn’t just in a Bond film, she married one, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah, she wasn’t just in a Bond. Bond was in her,’ added Luke crudely, causing ripples of mirth.

  Jessica was beyond dismayed. Her parents were always going to be part of any Bond discussion but she would have hoped they wouldn’t have entered it quite so promptly. Plus, this was the first time in her life she’d ever had to hear anything other than blatant sycophancy about them and she’d certainly never had to hear a boyfriend of hers admit to fancying her mother, even if she always suspected that they probably did. Unable to listen to any more, she leapt to her feet, knowing there was a strong chance she might be about to throw up.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said, stopping only to grab her bag before she raced out of the room, her hand to her mouth.

  ‘Jesus,’ said Mike, looking astonished as the office door swung despondently in Jessica’s wake. ‘What is it with the girls in this office running out of my meetings? Shit, I hope she’s not ill,’ he added, suddenly less worried about what might be wrong with Jessica and more about his potential dinner plans.

  He wasn’t the only worried person in the room though and Kerry and Paul both scrambled to their feet, determined to find Jessica and to
see if she was all right.

  27

  ‘Are you OK, babe?’ said Kerry, hammering on the door.

  ‘I’m fine,’ croaked Jessica, who was in fact slumped on the toilet, silent tears coursing down her face.

  ‘Are you ill or something? What’s wrong?’ persisted Kerry. It was unsettling to see Jessica anything other than cheery. To a large extent they all took her lovely, happy nature for granted.

  ‘I’m fine. Honestly, I just felt a bit sick, that’s all,’ cried Jessica mournfully, desperately trying to stave off her tears.

  ‘Paul hasn’t upset you, has he?’

  Paul. Jessica smiled a small, sad smile. ‘No, Paul hasn’t upset me.’

  It wasn’t his fault that, like the rest of the world’s population, he wanted to sleep with her mother. It also wasn’t his fault that Mike had decided to do a stupid Bond special, meaning it was highly likely she was going to be found out and her adventure would be over, along with any hope she might have had of getting it together with Paul. Even if she came clean now, her lies would inevitably seem like a bigger deal. She may have been in England for a month and a half now but was still only in her third week of employment and things had come crashing down already. It was so unfair.

  ‘Good,’ said Kerry. ‘Because he’s hanging around outside these lavs like George Michael, so I need to tell him you’re OK. He’s really worried about you,’ she added gently.

  Jessica took a deep breath and adjusted her gaze heavenwards in order to stem the flow. She didn’t want Paul to be worried but couldn’t face him just yet. Plus she couldn’t believe his mom had actually met her parents. Christ, his mom had nearly met her by the sound of it. What were the chances?