by Natasha West
Denise’s rictus grin fell away with breath-taking speed. ‘What in the fuck happened there?’
Emily didn’t answer. She looked to Ruby. Ruby rolled her eyes and looked at her mother. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, we had him. He was on the line. And you threw him back!’
Ruby picked up a salad leaf. ‘We’ll get another chance. He said so.’
‘Unless that was a kiss off. Because he was offended that you left the table when he was trying to talk to you.’
Ruby gave a world-weary sigh. ‘Look, mom, I’m tired. Can you berate me tomorrow?’
Denise grabbed a waiter by the arm, said, ‘Check’ and then looked at Ruby, disappointed. ‘Well, you’re no good to me now, so I guess you can go.’
Ruby stood, leaving half her salad. ‘Come on’ she said to Emily. Emily shoved the last part of her chicken in her mouth as she stood, saying, ‘Nice to see you again, Mrs Knight’ with her mouth full.
‘It’s Ms’ Denise said, getting her purse out to deal with the bill, already disinterested.
Emily and Ruby walked out to the car in thick silence. Emily didn’t mind. For the first time in a while, she felt like she’d taken some control. She was content to ride that moment as far as she was able. It turned out that was about five minutes into the car journey. ‘So. We gonna talk about it or what?’ Ruby asked.
‘Talk about what?’ Emily muttered, though she knew damn well.
‘I’m not playing around anymore, Emily’ Ruby said firmly.
‘Were you playing around before?’ Emily asked.
Ruby gave a short, frustrated groan. ‘Did I do something to you?’
‘Like what?’
‘You tell me. But you’re being… You’re not being you.’
‘You don’t know who me is. You’ve known me about a week’ Emily informed her.
‘So you’re the kind of person who slams people against toilet walls and makes out with them hard before storming out? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?’ Ruby demanded.
Emily enjoyed hearing it put like that. ‘You told me I was rented, remember. I was just giving you what you paid for.’
Ruby put a turn signal on and pulled sharply off the road, parking up on a small dark suburban street. A dog barked, a baby cried. It was all very cosy on the street. Not so much in the car. ‘That’s NOT what I wanted’ Ruby said, unclipping her belt and turning to face Emily fully.
‘No? Are you saying you wish I hadn’t done that?’ Emily asked.
Ruby’s face was aflame and for a moment, Emily was sure she was going to say she did wish that, that Emily had crossed a line. But after she looked at Emily for a few blazing moments, she said, ‘Yes. I did want you to do it. Alright? You got me hot. You win.’
‘I win?’ Emily exploded. ‘You think any of this is winning? I got drunk in Vegas and married a stranger who then ditched me and now I have to play pretend wife with that person so they can get their dream job!’
‘That’s what’s sticking in your craw, still? That I left?’ Ruby asked.
‘Yes’ Emily said tightly. ‘It was hurtful.’
‘So that’s why you kissed me. For revenge’ Ruby said to herself.
Emily wanted to tell her, ‘No! Not for revenge. I fucking liked you and I still do and it’s killing me to keep trying to fake something I’m starting to actually feel!’ But she didn’t say that. She wouldn’t give Ruby the satisfaction. She said instead, ‘Yes. Revenge.’ And she turned from Ruby to look out at the dark night.
Ruby started the car.
Eighteen
On the drive home, Ruby was fairly boiling with rage. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel all the way back like it was a neck she was trying to strangle.
But it wasn’t just rage. She was angry, sure. She didn’t like that Emily had kissed her to punish her. It was fucked up, but worse, effective. She’d never felt so pent up and confused in her life. Half of her wanted to scream at Emily. But the other half… The other half wanted to make Emily scream. In other ways. It was perplexing, frustrating, stupid. She hated feeling this way.
Ruby let them both into her place and then she slammed into the kitchen. She did something she never did. She started washing dishes. Angry scrubbing of plates, crashing them onto the rack. She had a dishwasher, she didn’t know what the hell she was doing this for, but her hands needed occupation. If she didn’t do this, she didn’t know what else she might do.
Once it was done, she looked at the rack full of dishes. She’d done a terrible job. There were still bits of food stuck to the plates. She was thrilled. She took them back out and did them again. This time, when she was done, those fucking plates gleamed.
But she felt no less pent up. She had to do something else or go crazy. She went to her room, walking past Emily who was sat on the sofa. Ruby didn’t look at her. It took everything she had, but she managed it. She went into her room and grabbed some workout clothes, getting out of her dress, leaving it on the floor. Once she was in lycra, she slammed back out into the living room.
Emily did a double take. ‘Where are you going?’ She asked.
‘Gym’ Ruby told her flatly.
‘It’s ten at night’ Emily said primly.
‘What’s your point?’ Ruby asked.
‘Is it even open?’
‘It’s open twenty-four seven’ Ruby told her.
‘Oh. My gym at home closes at eight’ Emily said.
‘Welcome to LA’ Ruby said and headed for the door. She heard Emily get up but she didn’t stop. At the door, she felt a hand on her arm. ‘Wait.’
Ruby rounded on Emily. ‘For what?’
‘What the hell are we doing?’ Emily asked, and she didn’t look so tough anymore. She looked appealingly delicate again.
‘Look, I’m sorry, I have to go’ Ruby told her. ‘I can’t be around you right now.’
‘Why not?’ Emily asked.
‘Because of what you did.’
Emily looked down. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. You’re right, I’m feeling a bit… Not myself.’
Ruby didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing.
‘Look’ Emily went on, ‘I realise that wasn’t… It’s not what we talked about. I won’t do it again. Not like that.’
Funnily enough, that wasn’t really what Ruby wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that Emily had meant the kiss, that it came from real passion. But she wasn’t going to get that, she knew. Because Emily was right, she’d blown her real and true shot right at the start, by walking out on Emily in Vegas. All they had left was this. A contract. Ruby thought she’d better use those last two kisses very wisely because once they were gone, they were gone. She inhaled deeply through her nose and said, ‘Alright, fine.’
‘So, we’re alright?’
‘I guess. Look, I’ll be back in a few hours. You should take the bed tonight, I’ll take the couch.’
‘You’re still going to the gym?’
‘Yeah. I need to work out anyway.’
Emily looked disappointed. ‘OK. Well, enjoy.’
Ruby nodded and let herself out.
***
The treadmill was on twelve, an incline of ten. It had been on those settings for twenty minutes and Ruby was starting to flag. She was thrilled by the exhaustion that was taking her body. She needed it. She needed to stop feeling like this, like her body was on fire for Emily. It was pointless. But the tiredness had arrived at last, along with endorphins. She could stop.
However, as she climbed off the treadmill, she wondered if tiring her body out was going to cut it. Because there were still stupid thoughts going around her stupid brain. Flashes of what happened in that toilet cubicle. The impact of Emily’s lips and body against her own. It might take more than a few miles on a treadmill to clear that out.
Nineteen
Emily woke up in Ruby’s bed and for a second, she wasn’t sure how she’d gotten there. She’d moved from the sofa to t
he bed, how many ways were there for that to happen? But no, Ruby had simply offered her a one-night swap, that was all. Last night had not led to any revelatory romantic declarations. Not even simple sex. Not that she wanted that, an empty act, sweaty and meaningless and probably very hot. No. In the end, Emily still wanted a fantasy.
She got up and went out to find Ruby had already left. There was a post-it on the bathroom mirror. ‘Went to work, you should take the day off. R.’ No kiss, Emily noted.
So she was on her own, for a day. But there was no chance she was sitting around to dwell on everything. That way, madness lay. She had to get out.
***
Hollywood was a bust. It was a dirty, hot trek through crowds of tourists to see what? Three separate people dressed as Elmo in front of Mann’s Chinese Theatre? A concrete collection of stars with the names of lots of people who were now accused of molestation? A museum that contained a waxwork of Tom Cruise that if you slapped a pair of glasses on it became a dead ringer for Billie Jean King?
It wasn’t a lot better than Vegas. Emily wondered if she was the problem. Why could she not enjoy the same nonsense as everyone else?
She would try somewhere else. There was one place that had offered a morbid attraction.
***
‘Well’ Emily muttered to herself. ‘That’s that.’
She was looking at a brick in a wall, essentially. On the brick was a plaque, and behind that lay Judy Garland. Emily had come a long way to look at this plaque in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. It hadn’t really been worth it. Her feet hurt. She hadn’t even wanted to come here, she’d wanted to see Marilyn Monroe, but that cemetery was in somewhere called Westwood, miles and miles away. This was the compromise. This walk had taken still taken forty minutes. She hadn’t realised that you couldn’t really walk anywhere in LA, you needed transport. In Oxford city centre, anywhere was walkable in twenty minutes. It was absurd. Why was any place this so damn big?
***
The franchise coffee shop was bursting at the seams. The queue was at least ten minutes long. Emily just wanted a bloody water.
She was about to turn and leave when a young woman, no more than nineteen, said, ‘Hey, I know you.’ Emily, quite sure this was not true, said, ‘Oh, no, I don’t think so.’
‘No, I do… Let me think, what is it… Oh shit! Ruby Knight’s Insta! That’s you, isn’t it?’
Emily was shocked. This was her first tangle with a member of the public. She’d sort of thought this might be avoidable. She was just a few pixels in a picture, standing next to someone who would really grab your eye. She never really believed anyone would care about her. But here she was, spotted. ‘Yes’ she admitted. ‘That’s me.’
‘I can’t believe it’ she said, turning to her friend. ‘You know how I’ve been talking about how Ruby Knight - you know, from that dumbass vampire thing - married some British hottie in Vegas and no one knows who the fuck she is and she doesn’t have any online presence and I’m totally obsessed with how cute they are? This is her!’ she enthused.
The friend peered over, a guy, a little older, moustachioed. ‘That’s you?’ he asked. He looked Emily up and down in a way she didn’t much care for. ‘Can we get a selfie with you? I’ll tag you in.’
The girl rolled her eyes. ‘Jack, I told you, she’s not on anything. You can’t tag her. No one even knows her last name.’ She turned to Emily. ‘What is your last name?’
‘It’s Bartlett’ Emily said. And then she realised her mistake. This girl might post about meeting her and she could put her full name in. And then it became searchable. Anyone that Googled her would find it. A marriage between a medium famous actress and a nobody called Emily Bartlett. Emily had thought herself somewhat safe to go home and not have this be discovered. She was just starting to realise how bloody naïve that was. The internet was an omniscient entity. Oxford was not exempt from it, despite the still abundant number of bookshops.
The girl wasn’t content with her name, though. ‘And where do you come from? You’re British, I know, but like what’s your story? How did you meet Rub-’
Emily looked at her wrist, where a watch would have been if she had one and said, ‘Oh, you know, I’m very late for… I’m late for…’ she grappled until at last a word came to mind. ‘I’m late for a… Colonoscopy.’
The girl’s eyes about popped out of their sockets. ‘Oh, wow. OK.’
Ruby ran out of the coffee shop cursing herself. She could have said anything. Dentist, hairdresser, massage. Anything but an appointment to have a small camera shoved up her bum.
But she soon forgot about that. She had to talk to Ruby, stat.
Twenty
Ruby was drained. Rock had been a royal pain in the ass all day. All she wanted was to do her job and that little needle-dick had made every scene a nightmare. He always needed so many takes because he was awful at taking direction. God only knew how he kept his job. He was good looking and not without charisma, but that could only take you so far. The director said he had a legion of rabid teenage fans so maybe that’s why they kept him. Ruby hoped he was worth his cost in production time, though she doubted it.
She just wanted to go home and get in the bath. She kind of hoped Emily might be out. She needed some time alone.
But when she walked into her living room, Emily was there, pacing a hole in the carpet. She turned at Ruby’s entrance. ‘Oh, thank god. I need to speak to you.’
‘Can it wait?’ Ruby asked, tiredly.
‘No. It really can’t’ Emily said, worked up.
Ruby forgot her bath plans. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I never wanted to be famous, you know? I know everybody wants that, but I never did. I don’t like being looked at. I was happy to sit in the stacks and read and sell people books and now all that’s screwed because I’m going to end up being known for being your wife.’
Ruby blinked. ‘You didn’t realise that might happen?’
‘No, I didn’t!’ Emily said. ‘I’ve been Googling you for the last hour and all I’ve found are pictures of you and me. In Vegas, on the set, the one that guy took at the brunch place, others people took that I didn’t even know about, they’re all over the place.’
Ruby frowned. She really didn’t want to ask the question she was about to, but she was compelled. ‘Did you not understand how the internet worked?’
‘Of course I understand how the internet works’ Emily said, exasperated. ‘But… I thought… I had myself convinced this wasn’t a big deal. But it’s going to spread, isn’t it? Little by little, it’ll be everywhere. Because one day, someone I know will see one of these snaps and recognise me and they’ll post about it and they’ll say, ‘Hey, how weird is this? This person looks exactly like our Emily Bartlett’ and someone else will see it and say, ‘That is our Emily Bartlett’ and then it will reach friends, my brother, my dad, my mum, my bloody gran will see it on her old biddy Facebook. Katie even. She’d probably have a good laugh. They’ll all find out I married you. People will talk about this weird thing I did, marrying a stranger and then getting a divorce. I’ll become known for it. I won’t be anything else. I’ll have to tell people the minute I meet them to negate the damage. Like a sex offender!’ About there, Emily ran out of breath and collapsed on the couch.
Ruby looked down at Emily and she didn’t know what to say. Because she’d never thought about any of this stuff. She’d been too consumed with the effects of all this on her own life. She’d never stopped to think about the consequences for Emily. Now she did and she was guilt-ridden. Why had it not occurred to her before this moment that where she stood to gain, Emily could really only lose? Money, even a large amount, would not solve Emily’s future crappy celebrity. She felt like she’d cursed Emily to share the shittiest part of her own life.
Ruby sat down on the couch next to Emily. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why’re you sorry?’
‘Because I started this. I posted that pic.’
‘And
I got drunk and married you. And I took the deal your mother offered. I can’t blame you for that, Ruby. Much as I’d love to’ Emily said, putting her head in her hands.
‘No, you should. I bought that vodka, remember? That was where the shit started to hit the fan.’
‘And I drank it willingly. Because I was having a good time.’
‘But I chatted you up’ Ruby reminded her.