Write Your Own Script
Page 28
She activated the main screen, cleared all notifications, and then opened the message app. After a few silent moments, which tortured Maggie, Tamsyn turned with a huge grin on her face.
“Carmen says it’s amazing! Vast majority of people really positive.” She stopped, suddenly choking up, her hand going to her mouth.
Maggie carefully removed the phone from Tamsyn’s hand, wrapped her arms around her, and pulled her close. As Tamsyn cried, Maggie kissed her hair, smoothed it away from her face, and simply held her.
When Tamsyn had stopped sniffling, she eased herself back from Maggie’s arms, blew her nose, then reached for her phone again.
“Let me just read one more,” she said quietly.
Maggie watched as she scrolled to it, read it, then passed the phone to Maggie.
Proud of you x
The name at the top of the message said Lesley.
“How does that make you feel?” Maggie asked.
Tamsyn sighed. “I honestly don’t know. I still can’t forgive her for her role in Harewood’s outing, but I have known her for nearly three decades. That’s a lot of friendship to throw away over one disagreement.” She shrugged. “I’ll probably contact her again, sometime in the next couple of months, and see if we can rebuild. I’m not sure though…”
Tamsyn stood up, walked to the big windows and stood staring out for some time. Maggie left her to it, understanding the need to be with her own thoughts.
Much later, they popped open some champagne.
“To my beautiful girlfriend,” Maggie said, holding up her glass. “Who I couldn’t be more proud of today. Welcome to your coming out, my love.”
“Thank you,” Tamsyn whispered, her eyes still puffy and red from crying. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”
“I’ll drink to that!”
They sipped and laughed and sipped some more. Soon, hunger set in again and they worked together to make a risotto for a late lunch, accompanied by more champagne. By the time the sun set they were hysterically drunk, but even in her inebriated state, Maggie knew this was just what Tamsyn had needed. When they collapsed into bed at only nine o’clock that night, neither of them complained. It had been one heck of a day.
Tamsyn’s phone rang as she popped the last of the croissants on the plate and she sighed. While the calls had diminished since Saturday, there was still a steady stream of them. She saw Carmen’s name in the caller display and winced. She’d already left three voicemails, each more annoyed than the last. Maybe this time she should just answer.
“Hi, Carmen.”
“Well, it’s about time! You can’t seriously have been shagging the entire time you’ve been there?”
“Maybe we have,” Tamsyn said, snippily.
“Uh-huh, whatever.”
“Sorry I haven’t called you back.”
“I’ll forgive you. Seriously, Tamsyn, I get it. Of course you want to hide away. But I’m not actually ringing about all that now, at least not directly.”
“No?”
“No. I mean, if you want to hear what an overnight legend you’ve become in LGBT circles, then sure, I can chew your ear off for hours on that score.”
Tamsyn laughed. “That’s okay, that can wait, I’m sure. But has it really been that positive?”
“God, yes! Even Tony’s a bit taken aback. I mean, you’ve probably lost the entire readership of the Daily Mail, but I’m quite sure that’s something you can live with.”
“Hell, yes.”
“Good. So, anyway, I have something rather juicy to share with you. Are you sitting down?”
“Uh-oh.”
“Trust me, this is a good one.”
Tamsyn moved to the sofa, sweeping up her glass of water en route. Maggie strolled into the room, a quizzical look on her face when she saw Tamsyn on the phone.
“Carmen” she mouthed, and Maggie nodded before heading off to the kitchen.
“So, comfy yet?” Carmen said impatiently.
“Yes, yes. Go on, spill.”
“Well, I know it’s only January, but I just earned my bonus for this year already.”
“That’s quite the brag.”
Carmen laughed. “Trust me, I own it. I got a call early this morning from a producer in LA. Guess who they’re keen to talk to about a starring role in Ocean’s 9?”
Tamsyn blinked. A few times.
“Are you kidding me? Please, Carmen, don’t kid about—”
“I’m not. I’d never do that to you. He said they’d been thinking about casting for a while and your name kept popping up. I kind of knew this through some of my contacts, so I’d let it be known that you would be very keen to talk to them about this.”
“And they called today? A few days after my big news broke?”
“They did. I even went so far as to check that he’d heard and he just said, ‘Yeah, so what?’”
Tamsyn flopped back against the sofa cushions, her heart pounding. “Oh, my God, Carmen. This is incredible! A film that big, in that franchise…”
“I know,” Carmen said quietly. “Now, I know it isn’t in the bag yet, but when we get you this, if there’s any doubters out there questioning your career prospects, this should shut them up forever.”
Tamsyn’s laugh started small but within moments it consumed her, until tears were rolling down her cheeks.
“Tamsyn, you okay?” Carmen said between guffaws.
Maggie strode over from the kitchen, her face a picture of confusion and amusement wrapped into one.
“I’m…I’m fine,” Tamsyn stammered. “I need to tell Maggie. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Sure.”
The line went dead and Tamsyn threw the phone onto the end of the sofa. She patted the seat beside her and Maggie promptly sat.
“What the hell is going on?” she asked, then laughed as Tamsyn grabbed her and squeezed her tight.
“Remember how I worried about how being out would hurt my career?”
“Yes,” Maggie said slowly, staring at her.
“Ocean’s 9, baby. Ocean’s 9.”
Maggie’s eyebrows shot up, her eyes went wide, and her hands convulsively squeezed Tamsyn’s hips.
“Serious?”
Tamsyn nodded. “Serious.”
Maggie squealed and Tamsyn laughed, pulling her back in for one of those all-encompassing hugs she’d grown to love so much.
“I think that calls for more champagne,” Maggie whispered against her skin. “Don’t you?”
“As if you need to ask me twice.” Tamsyn rolled her eyes.
Maggie threw her head back and laughed out loud.
As they headed for the exit, the porter wheeling their luggage behind them, a sharp tug on Tamsyn’s arm brought her up short. She turned to face Maggie, whose expression was unreadable.
“What?” Tamsyn asked, another nervous tremor juddering through her body to add to the pile of nerves already in residence. They were about to face the waiting crowd at Heathrow. Tony had surreptitiously leaked her arrival time to the more friendly papers as a sop to them missing out on interviews. The idea was that they could run photos of a smiling Tamsyn returning from her break; she’d answer just a couple of questions and then be whisked away by her new security detail to the car that, by then, would already have collected Maggie. It was a good plan, one that they’d both endorsed, but now that it was here, Tamsyn was nauseous. What if people shouted horrible things? Or asked completely insensitive questions? When facing the press before, none of this had bothered her, or even entered her mind.
Somehow, this was entirely different.
“I’ve changed my mind.” Maggie’s voice was quiet, and she bit her bottom lip as soon as she’d spoken.
Tamsyn’s heart faltered and her breath caught in her throat. “What?” Terror fill
ed her—was Maggie about to leave her? To change her mind about everything they’d planned and dreamed about together?
Her fear must have been evident on her face; Maggie’s eyes widened and she rushed to say, “Oh no! I don’t mean about us. I mean about this.” She waved towards the exit. “About the plan for me to sneak out and you to face the press on your own.”
“What do you mean?” Tamsyn was thoroughly confused.
“I mean, we’re together now,” Maggie said, stepping closer. “We’re in this together. I’m your partner. And we need to get used to this—I need to get used to this, our new reality. That you are who you are, and the press are always going to be interested in you. And interested in us.” She took Tamsyn’s hand. “So, we should do this together. Hand in hand.”
Tamsyn was lighter, all of a sudden. Almost as if she were floating.
“Have you any idea how much I love you?” she said, pulling Maggie close.
Maggie chuckled. “I have a pretty good idea, yes, but, you know, you can show me later.”
“Oh, I plan to,” Tamsyn whispered. She sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?”
Maggie nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Okay,” Tamsyn said, inhaling deeply again. “Then let’s do it.”
She squeezed Maggie’s hand, holding onto it as they walked to the exit.
As the automatic doors opened before them, they were met with a wall of flashing lights, shouts, applause, and cheering, and a plethora of rainbow flags waving back and forth over the heads of the bank of photographers.
Maggie glanced over at Tamsyn and grinned, even though her eyes were wide.
Tamsyn grinned back, clasped tightly to Maggie’s hand, and together they turned back to face the waiting crowd.
About A.L. Brooks
A.L. Brooks was born in the UK but currently resides in Frankfurt, Germany, and over the years she has lived in places as far afield as Aberdeen and Australia. She works 9–5 in corporate financial systems and her dream is to take early retirement. Like, tomorrow, please. She loves her gym membership, and is very grateful for it as she also loves dark chocolate. She enjoys drinking good wine and craft beer, trying out new recipes to cook, and learning German. Travelling around the world and reading lots and lots (and lots) of books are also things that fight for time with her writing. Yep, she really needs that early retirement.
CONNECT WITH A.L. BROOKS
Website: www.albrookswriter.com
Twitter: @albrookswriter1
E-Mail: albrookswriter@gmail.com
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Write Your Own Script
© 2019 by A.L. Brooks
ISBN (mobi): 978-3-96324-157-4
ISBN (epub): 978-3-96324-158-1
Also available as paperback.
Published by Ylva Publishing, legal entity of Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.
Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.
Owner: Astrid Ohletz
Am Kirschgarten 2
65830 Kriftel
Germany
www.ylva-publishing.com
First edition: 2019
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Credits
Edited by Alissa McGowan
Cover Design and Print Layout by Streetlight Graphics