‘And she won’t travel with you? Come on location? Because you know they’ll facilitate that for you if you write it into the contract.’
‘She won’t. And how could I ask her to do that? To leave her life here and a career that she loves, to sit around and wait for me while I work sixteen-hour days on set? She’d never go for it, and she shouldn’t – she’s worked too hard, and she loves her job. Why should she give it up for me?’
Calvin wasn’t giving up. ‘But you’re going to give all this up for her?’
Ollie could feel the muscle in his left jaw pulse, the way it always did when he was stressing. ‘Not just for her… for a normal life. Maybe a family.’
Calvin took a slug of his water, regrouping to continue the debate.
‘I think you need to speak to Stevie. Ask her what she thinks and whether there’s a compromise in there. I’ve got to know her well enough that I’m sure the last thing she’d want is for you to sacrifice your career for her.’
‘That’s exactly why I can’t speak to her about it, because you’re right – she would never want to be the reason that I walked away fromThe Clansman. This has to be my decision alone because I refuse to put that pressure on her. Look, I’m so grateful for everything the show has given me, and I’ve loved it. But maybe it’s time to come off the road, time to stop living most of the year out of a suitcase. Not just for Stevie, but for me too. I’m not saying I don’t want to work. I’ll look for short-term roles. Maybe a movie every year or so. And then there’s the Netflix deal for another series of the Academy documentary…’
‘Which might not be renewed. Look, I know we hoped they’d come in with an offer before now, but they’re still stalling and we won’t know that until tomorrow at the earliest. They’ve said they want tonight’s viewing figures and to gauge the public response before committing to more. And I don’t need to list every major TV star whose movie career flopped because he was too typecast by his previous role. Have you seen the cast ofFriendspick up their Oscars?’
Ollie shrugged. It was harsh, but Calvin wasn’t wrong. Ollie wasn’t arrogant enough to think that he’d just snap his fingers and get a great movie role that would change the trajectory of his career and give him a much more manageable work/life balance. And then there was the other issue. One that they were both skirting around.
‘We might as well get the other elephant out of the room. If my earnings drop dramatically, there’s a risk I won’t be able to contribute financially to the Academy at the same level as I do now. I mean, we’ll be fine for the next year or two, but it does add uncertainty to the future. And, trust me, the thought of that kills me. We employ the people I love there and it’s the only chance for some of those kids to chase their dreams. So there it is. What do I do? I either lose Stevie, and a real shot at happiness, or I risk crushing everyone else’s dreams – including yours and my mum’s.’
Calvin groaned as he put his head on the table for a few seconds, before straightening back up and checking that his fine silver mane hadn’t budged from position.
‘I have nothing,’ Calvin shrugged. ‘Other than the need for a lie-down in a dark room until I can wrap my head around the magnitude of this. Look, let’s think about this. Take your time. Process it all. Then circle back in a few days.’
‘There’s a slight problem with that.’ Ollie knew that no amount of green juice was going to make him feel better about the next confession. ‘The thing is, I’ve been sitting on this for a while, so I have to give my answer soon.’
Calvin’s eyes narrowed. ‘How soon?’
Ollie looked at his watch. ‘The deadline is 10a.m. LA time. So 6p.m. here.’ There was no denying his timing was terrible. He should have made the decision long before now. Last week. Last month. But he’d been delaying, hoping that Netflix would renew before the show aired, and then at least the Academy would have a secure future.
‘No wonder I have heartburn,’ Calvin groaned. ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘If I had a plan, I wouldn’t be sitting here taking years off your life. I’m sorry, mate, but I needed a partner in crime today and you’re it.’
‘You know they jail partners in crime. Or shoot them.’
Ollie appreciated that Calvin was dealing with this with his usual mix of fatalistic sarcasm and humour.
‘So I guess it all boils down to what my gut is feeling five minutes before crunch time. I need to speak to my mum. Hope the Netflix deal comes in. Weight it all up again. And I need you to come along for the ride. Keep my management team off my back, and help me work out what to do. Because whatever decision I make at six o’clock tonight is going to change my life. And I think I’m going to need something stronger than green juice to deal with it.’
6
NETTA
Netta loved the feeling of the sun on her face as she walked through the gates of the cemetery. Fergus had never been a fan of the heat, so they’d travelled very little and that would always be a regret. Not that they’d had the money for lavish holidays, right enough. Not with the cost of putting Mandy through university and supporting Blair through his apprenticeship. And after that, well, Fergus had still resisted the idea. She only had a passport because she’d convinced him to do a fortnight in Spain after the kids left home, but he’d complained about the heat, about the fact that he couldn’t watch his sport on TV, about the food in the hotel. Netta had spent the whole two weeks placating him, and decided it wasn’t worth it, so after that, they’d stuck to going down south for two weeks in Eastbourne or Great Yarmouth, just as they always had. Now, she thought about going online and booking somewhere, but… well, she didn’t know where to start. And did she really want to go abroad on her own?
The pleats of the skirt on her yellow sundress rustled as she walked towards the spot where Fergus lay, in the same village cemetery as his parents and siblings. This was her best day-dress and used to be reserved for special occasions. She’d worn it to Mandy’s graduation, almost twenty years ago now, and to Blair and Gayle’s wedding, then their son, Lyle’s christening. Last summer, she’d decided that there was no point in it hanging in a wardrobe, so now she wore it whenever she felt like dressing up a little. Making an effort. She just hoped that if Fergus was looking down, he didn’t think the effort was for him, because the truth was, it was for herself.
As she turned on to the path that led to Fergus’s gravestone, she wondered if there would already be flowers there. Would anyone else have paid their respects? It wasn’t really a surprise when she reached his grave and saw that it was bare. He was the youngest of four siblings, but the two older ones had passed on too, and the one closest in age had emigrated to Canada years ago, just as Netta’s only sister had done when they were back in their twenties. Blair would be at work today. Now that he was his own boss, and living on his own since his divorce, he often grafted late into the night and on the Saturdays and Sundays that he didn’t have Lyle. As for Mandy, Netta wouldn’t expect her to have time to come here today – that lass was always so busy with her events company that she barely got a day off.
Netta filled the granite vase beside Fergus’s headstone with water from a bottle she’d popped in her bag, then arranged the bunch of sunflowers she’d picked up at a flower shop on the way. They were her favourite blooms. She loved the optimism of them. The openness. When she was done, she took a seat on the bench that sat opposite the stone that bore his name. She always liked to have a silent little chat with him, just in case he was indeed up there somewhere and could hear her thoughts. Not that she thought he’d have much to say to her. In fact, he hadn’t had much to say for the last few years of his life.
Netta had hoped that when he retired he’d help out a bit more around the house, but after he stopped working, his waking hours were dedicated to bowling, golfing and gardening – and when the weather wasn’t good enough for going outdoors, he spent all his time in his chair watching videos on bowling, golfing and gardening on the iPad the kids had bought him for his sixty-fifth birthday. That was just one of the reasons that, contrary to his wishes, she’d continued to work after he’d retired. In fact, she’d dreaded turning sixty-five, the official retirement age at the school she worked in as a catering assistant. Or a dinner lady, as they’d been called in the old days. She’d never said it aloud to anyone, not even herself, but the truth was that the prospect of long days and nights with just Fergus for company had filled her with trepidation. Her work had always been her happy place, where she got to earn her own money while spending thirty-five hours a week surrounded by other people that she could chat to and care for. What would she do when she retired? Sit beside him on the sofa all day? Go hang out at the bowling club? In the end, she’d never found out, because straight after she hung up her apron on her sixty-fifth birthday, they’d gone on a two-week bus tour around Scotland, and he’d died in his sleep the night after they’d got back. A heart attack. Sudden. Lethal. And the paramedics who’d come racing when she’d called 999 the next morning had assured her that he probably hadn’t suffered.
Netta would always be thankful for that. They hadn’t had a perfect life together, but she couldn’t stand the thought of him being in pain.
That night had changed her life in many respects, but in some ways it was still the same. Same house. Same quiet existence. Same acceptance that this was the cards she’d been dealt, and she just had to make the best of it.
Before she could give that any more thought, her handbag began to ring on the wooden seat beside her, and as she picked it up, she glanced furtively around, ready to apologise to anyone within earshot that the noise was disturbing. Thankfully, there was no one there, apart from the audience that was resting in peace. Still, face flushing, she pulled her two mobile phones out of her bag and saw that it was the one for the Listening Line that was ringing. She didn’t hesitate. She’d said she would be on call today until 4p.m., and she didn’t want to let anyone down.
