His friend came around beside him, opened Moira’s top drawer and tookThe Clansmancontract back out, then placed it in front of him.
‘Okay, but this one can’t wait. They’re blowing up my phone, and I know they’ve been trying to call you too. The board meeting is in half an hour, but we need to go and finish filming at the reception, so this has to be done now.’
Ollie didn’t argue. He’d been postponing it all day, but he was now all out of options.
‘Mum? What do you think?’ He’d asked her the same question several times today, but he wanted to hear if her opinion had wavered.
Over on the couch, his mum sighed, and he knew her well enough to understand the conflict of emotions on her face.
‘I think you needThe Clansmanmoney to continue to subsidise the Academy. I think we’ve seen tonight how special it is and I’d be devastated if all this ended…’
Ollie felt his heart sink. She was right. She was honest. She was now leaning forward, her eyes locking on his.
‘But I stand by what I said this morning. Your happiness is more important to me than anything else, son. If this place is meant to be, then we’ll find a way. Netflix will give us a bloody great big contract. Or we’ll come up with a different plan to fund it. Or I’ll… I’ll put Calvin on the game.’
‘That’ll buy us a lunch. Maybe keep the lights on for an hour or two,’ Calvin piped up, and Ollie felt a sweeping wave of gratitude for their efforts to counter the pressure they knew he was feeling right now.
His mum picked the baton back up. ‘So what I’m saying, son, is that whatever you decide, I’m right there with you.’
Ollie waited for a punchline, but for once, there wasn’t one. That was her true, heartfelt reply and he knew she meant every word.
‘I love you for that, maw.’
‘I love you too, son.’
‘But it doesn’t help a fricking bit,’ he added, making her smile.
Ollie glanced up at the other person who’d never steered him wrong.
‘Calvin?’
The man who’d known him since he was a kid groaned and stopped pacing for a moment to speak, but when he did, he just sounded weary.
‘I could list the pros and cons again, and we could ruminate over it until the end of time, but I don’t have enough Botox in my face to withstand that. At the end of the day, you need to make the decision, Ollie. There’s a canteen full of people and a documentary crew out there waiting for you. There’s a boardroom full of people in LA waiting for you. And if we don’t get this done now, we’ll run out of time. Look, I know it’s tough and I’ll support whatever decision that you make, but we can’t keep them hanging any longer on this. It’s your call.’
Ollie leaned back on the chair, hands behind his head, eyes closed, the absolute bedlam of a riot kicking off in his brain. Again, he thought through the dilemma that had been spinning in his mind all day. If he signed now, the decision was made. Even if he could somehow persuade Stevie that they should be together, this would effectively make it impossible to have a future here with her.
However, if he didn’t sign and lost that income, he could be taking away extraordinary futures for so many other people. And it might all be for nothing anyway, because Stevie clearly wasn’t feeling the same way as him.
He had to give her one last chance. He pressed redial on his phone.
It rang. Then rang. Then… went straight to voicemail again.
There was his answer.
He sat forward. Picked up the pen.
Sign. Don’t sign.
There was no right. No wrong. Either way, he made some people happy and others got hurt.
He inhaled. Exhaled. He locked eyes with his mum and the love that stared back at him made him think about everything he’d seen in this building here tonight. The joy. The talent. The success. The ambition.
He’d already lost Stevie. He couldn’t risk losing all those other dreams too.
Ollie Chiles picked up the pen and signed his name, committing five years of his life, in return for a paycheque that would guarantee the future of the Academy.
Then he got up and walked out of the door.
