29
OLLIE
The high of the show was a feeling that Ollie didn’t want to come down from. Man, it had been brilliant. It had delivered everything that made compulsive viewing – dramas, thrills, unforgettable characters, surprises, shocks, tears, talent and so much love there was no way the viewers wouldn’t switch off feeling just a little bit better about the world.
The television industry was unpredictable and incredibly fickle. Sometimes there was a show that had all the ingredients of an absolute smash, but it just didn’t connect with the audience. And other times, a quirky series would somehow land with the viewers and become a huge hit. Wasn’t his own TV show,The Clansman, the perfect example of that? Okay, so it was a television spin-off from a major movie franchise, but those were notoriously panned because they didn’t match up to the high-value productions of the original films. It was also set in the times of the Jacobite rebellion and had Scottish accents so thick half the world used subtitles to watch it. And yet, it was one of the top-grossing shows in the world last year, which, admittedly, made him an absolute fool for even considering walking away from it.
But that fly-on-the-wall documentary they’d just watched? He’d hoped it would be great, but it had exceeded that by miles.
‘Calvin, theyhaveto renew it. It was incredible. Emotional. Unforgettable. Tell me you’ve heard something from Netflix about another series?’ Ollie pleaded, as he dashed down the corridor on the way from the theatre to Moira’s office, Calvin and his mum leading the way. The filming of the after-show reception for the VIP guests, press and selected students would soon be kicking off in the canteen, however, the five missed calls from his LA management team in the last two hours told him thatTheClansmancontract situation had to be addressed first – a decision that would be so much easier to make if he knew thatThe Academy of Dreamswas being recommissioned.
Calvin was clearly sharing his high and still flushed from the standing ovation in the theatre after the show ended. ‘Nothing. Social media is going nuts with love for it and my phone is ringing off the hook with congratulations from everyone except Netflix. And that’s a worry. Look, I’ve been putting pressure on them, and so have the production team from Fankled, but there are merger talks, scheduling conflicts, personnel changes, financial restructures and a whole load of other stuff going on over there. Nothing has changed since they said the earliest we’d hear is tomorrow, and even then, no guarantees. It could still be next week, next month, next year.’
‘Fuck,’ Ollie swore under his breath, as he closed the door of the office behind them.
‘Ollie Chiles, language! Don’t make me clutch my pearls,’ his mother feigned disapproval over his word choice – a reproval made even funnier because everyone in this room had heard Moira swear like Billy Connolly on a rampage when riled. ‘And don’t burst my wee bubble of joy, because that was truly magical. If it wouldn’t spoil my make-up, I’d cry again, and we all know I don’t do that often because I’m a really ugly crier.’
Moira sat down on the couch, groaning with relief as she kicked off her heels, while Ollie went for the chair over at her desk. Calvin chose to stand and pace.
‘It just needs to happen, though. Mum, you were amazing. It was like watching my childhood play out, but with a hundred kids. You deserve ten fricking series of that show.’
‘Look, son, we’ll hear when we hear,’ Moira said, deploying the kind of mother-logic that she lived by. She swore her calm pragmatism came from listening to Doris Day singing ‘Que Sera Sera’ on a loop as a child. ‘If they renew it, that will be the most fabulous thing ever because everyone in this building deserves it. But even if they don’t, tonight has been one of the best nights of my life and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for giving that to me.’
Ollie wasn’t a crier either, but there was a lump like a hairball in his chest right now, so he handled it the way his family handled everything. ‘Extra socks for Christmas then?’
Moira immediately jumped on the humour bandwagon. ‘Three pairs and there will be patterns,’ she replied, deadpan, but the glint in her eyes said everything and Ollie felt that right in the heart.
Before he could answer, there was a sigh from where Calvin stood, flicking through messages on his phone. ‘You have got to be kidding me.’
Ollie recognised the tone – it was the one Calvin used when he was stressed, anxious or missed a Tom Ford sale.
‘What’s going on, pal?’
Calvin turned his phone around, so that Ollie could see the screen. It was a post on one of the most popular celebrity gossip websites, Bring Popcorn. Ollie was too far away to read the small print, but he definitely caught the headline.
‘OLLIE’S SECRET LOVER ATTENDS SCREENING.’
Underneath, was an image, clearly taken in the Academy theatre tonight.
‘For months, we’ve been reporting that our favourite TV star has a secret lover, and chums, here’s just another little nugget of evidence. Tonight, the actor was at the screening of his new documentary,The Academy of Dreams, and we can confirm his mystery lady was in attendance. Bring Popcorn has long been aware of the identity of his alleged lover, but we’re holding the secret until all is revealed by the person in question. Dying to know? Stay tuned, because later tonight we just might have the update that tells all.’
‘Whoever this is has access and proximity, and Ollie, we need to handle this. Do you have any idea who—’ Calvin began, but Ollie cut in, brushing it off.
‘Not now. At least five other things come before that.’
The one at the top of the list? Stevie. His heart had stopped when he’d seen glimpses of her on the screen tonight and he’d had an almost physical ache because she wasn’t sitting beside him. What the hell was going on? How could they go from being great to being broken in such a short space of time? Had he been so blinded by love for her, that he’d overestimated her feelings for him, or underestimated how much she loathed the idea of being with someone in the public eye? Years ago, he’d been blindsided by his ex-wife’s affair. Was he just really crap at reading the signs in relationships?
He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and dialled her number.
Answer. Come on, babe. Pick up.
Straight to voicemail.
Fuck. Again.
He tossed the phone on to the desk, feeling a level of frustration that no amount of swear words could defuse.
Calvin had already moved on to the other thing that made his top-priority list right now.
