‘Move departments? Go into teaching or community nursing?’
‘Maybe…’
‘Well, that’s a start. Something for you to think about.’
‘If I had the time,’ she grumbled.
‘Make the time,’ snapped Hannah, and Ellie was surprised by the strength in her docile friend’s tone. ‘I’m serious. If you’re about to burn out, you need to take some time out and think about what you really want. And then sort a plan, andmakeit work.’ x ‘Maybe…’ She hated to admit defeat, but Hannah was right. She’d worked so hard for the goal of her own place. But with the fate of the shop at stake, she’d given it all up in a heartbeat. Which left her working her arse off for nothing. She needed to slow down, to rethink.
‘You need a holiday, Ellie, and I’m not saying that just because I want you to come out here and visit me. I’m saying it because I was about to burn out myself. Coming out here, that’s part of my plan. I think things are going to be better for me over here. I might even try nursing here. The pay is better, the patient ratios… I need to look into getting my registration, but I’m feeling… hopeful.’
Ellie wiped away a tear. She hadn’t realised she was crying until she’d felt the wetness on her cheek. Hannah seemed so confident, so certain, and she wished she could feel the same, but she didn’t. Despite her bravado, Ellie was lost. Not quite as alone as Bob, but almost. She tried to gather her strength, but the idea of Hannah living in Australia permanently was another bitter blow. She resolutely brightened her voice. ‘Now, tell me more about you learning to surf.’
When she got home, Ellie couldn’t face her family. She decided to go to bed, sleep and then go straight out again.
Not to work though.
She wanted to relive the fantasy of being friends with Alex King. She was like Gatsby, staring out across the void, longing for a life she could never have.
No, she would put on her glad rags and go see his play. Pretend she lived in a nicer world.
How cool would it be to have someone as interesting and gorgeous as Alex as her boyfriend? She could pretend in her mind that she was going to see her boyfriend’s play, and imagine a life where she wasn’t single, skint, and living at home in her thirties.
She only hoped Alex didn’t see her and think she was stalking him.
Chapter Seven
Following the matinee performance, Alex met with theArts Reviewjournalist and photographer for an interview. Russell had pretty much taken their conversation this morning as a green light and had been quick to arrange it before Alex could think of some excuse to wriggle out of the meeting.
The photographer was taking shots of the actors on set, while the interviewer, a cheerful Asian woman in her mid-fifties called Mei, sat with him in the front of the auditorium.
She crossed her legs and turned her platform heel towards him. Her phone rested on the arm of her chair, recording their conversation – she may as well have placed a cobra next to her; he would have been less nervous.
Mei wore a smart and fashionable pink trouser suit that reminded him of some of the play’s costumes; bright and stylish, it screamed corporate glamour. ‘Thank you so much for agreeing to speak with me, Alex.’
Russell beamed at them from across the auditorium like a proud stage mom. Alex suspected he hadn’t run this past Richie, but then again his agent rarely came to the theatre. In fact, he was a little surprised Richie had come to London at all, considering how little he saw of him normally. Still, Richie – despite his faults – had shown far more loyalty than the rest of his family, none of whom had taken a day or two out of their busy schedule to come and see his play.
Alex stepped into the charming persona he always wore during interviews. Friendly, yet professional. ‘Did you enjoy the performance, Mei? By the way, love your suit. You look like you could be part of the show.’ He was careful to give her a compliment early on. A trick his mother had taught him to helpmake a connection with journalists, and hopefully keep them on your side.
Mei beamed with enthusiasm. ‘I loved the performance, and thank you. You’ve certainly brought the luxurious glamour of New York to the West End.’
The interview started well, plenty of questions about the actors and his artistic choices, and Alex quickly relaxed.
His first mistake.
‘How did your own experience growing up in a famous Hollywood family inspire your interpretation of Gatsby’s parties?’ Mei blinked wide, innocent eyes at him.
He laughed to hide his building anxiety at the more personal question, and then gave a couple of sweet anecdotes about his mom’s star-studded Halloween costume parties, all while being careful to steer it back to the costume and set designers he’d chosen for the production.
However, the next question tested his acting skills and patience to the max.
Mei tilted her head thoughtfully. ‘Did your recent break-up influence your direction of this production?’
Alex glanced at the recording phone, an unspoken threat. To buy time and collect his thoughts, he sipped from his water bottle. If he denied any heartache or refused to comment, it might be viewed as confirmation that he was the callous villain after all, but if he told the truth and explained the situation it would paint his family in a poor light – or, worse, be viewed as defensive lies.
‘Mei…’ He purred her name, in a subtle rebuke, fixing her with a firm look that made her shift in her seat. He waved his hand dismissively. ‘I don’t really know what you mean. I’m at an exciting point in my career, and feeling optimistic for the future and that of my family. Now, Gatsby on the other hand, and in fact all of the characters in this production, are tragicallydoomed…’ He went on to explain the themes and how he explored them with his direction, then wrapped up the interview quickly by saying he had to go and congratulate the actors on another brilliant performance.
But he made a point of glaring at Russell as he passed him, and said coldly, ‘No more interviews.’
