Jennifer’s smile grew even slyer. “We’ll make a ruthless corporate husk out of you yet.”
“Looking forward to it.”
The sky was fully dark now and the air fully chill. Jennifer rose to her feet, shook herself against the cold, and then said, “I should be heading back. Work to do, you know. If you wanted to—I mean, you’d be welcome to join me.”
And that, more than permission to search for an enigmatic aristocrat, more even than the final chapter of a story she was still trying to process, was the best offer Audrey’d had all evening.
Saturday
It had been an incredibly long time since Audrey had tried to actually spend the night sharing a single bed with another adult, so when she and Jennifer were awoken by a hammering on the trailer door she was feeling like a badly braided loaf.
Jennifer slid out from under the covers, wrapped herself in Audrey’s quilt, and went to see what was up. Or rather, to hear what was up by shouting to whoever was outside from the comfort of her supervillain chair.
“What is it?”
“Alanis isn’t coming on set,” replied Colin Thrimp’s trembling voice. “I don’t know why but she’s refusing to come out of her room and they’ll be needing her in makeup soon, and if she throws off the schedule—”
Jennifer was already dressing, as was Audrey. Although Audrey was managing to do it without also sayingfuckrepeatedly under her breath like it was the opening scene ofFour Weddings and a Funeral.
Once they were both presentable, Jennifer yanked the door open and Colin came stumbling in like a surprised Labrador.
“I’ve tried everything,” he explained, “but she seems quite inconsolable.”
Jennifer looked over at Audrey. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Well, go on. Get out there and hold her hand and tell her everything is going to be fine.”
That put Audrey in a bit of a spot because she hadn’tnotbeen going to do that, but she didn’t really want to be taking instructions from somebody she was sleeping with. “Can I remind you I’m not an employee?”
Jennifer made a strangled noise of frustration. “I’m so sorry. Audrey, my dear friend, will you please as a personal favour and out of the goodness of your heart get the fuck up and sort this fucking mess the fuck out?”
Adjusting the line of her dress to something slightly more face-the-world-worthy, Audrey smiled. “Glad to.”
With Colin Thrimp scampering in her wake, Audrey made her way down to the Lodge and, from there, up to Alanis’s room. And it was only when she was knocking on the door that it struck her she wasn’t actually the best person on set to be doing this, since Meera had kids of her own, Doris had kids and grandkids, and Joshua was way closer to Alanis’s age. On the other hand, all three of those people were still in the middle of a high-stakes baking competition.
“Go away,” said Alanis. “I’ve already said I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I’m not Colin,” Audrey told the door. “I’m, um, me.”
“Audrey?”
“Yes.”
“You know”—Alanis made a sniffling noise from inside—“forsomeone who’s not on the show anymore, you’re on the show a lot.”
“Yeah, it’s a long story. Can I come in?”
For a moment, there was no reply. But eventually Alanis opened the door, looking as miserable as Audrey had ever seen her, even worse than she’d been after a bad week’s baking. Then she went and perched on the edge of the bed, still in her self-consciously retro nightdress, her eyes tearstained.
“Want to talk about it?” asked Audrey. Which wasn’t a great opener, especially since she had no idea whatitwas.
Alanis just shook her head. And Audrey—still not completely certain what to say—sat down beside her. Maybe if she was lucky, this would be one of those situations where silence was stronger than words.
It wasn’t.
After a few minutes in which the only sounds were intermittent sniffing from Alanis and the muffled tapping of Colin Thrimp pacing outside, Alanis leaned her head against Audrey’s shoulder and started full-on crying again.
