“You don’t think I tried that?” he says, his eyes flashing with anger. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway. He’s just going to think I consulted on the script, but that I didn’t write it.”
“But… youdidn’twrite it,” Isabella points out, confused.
He stops pacing, turns to her, and puts his hands on his hips before inhaling dramatically through his nose, the three of us watching in silence. He finally speaks, slowly and steadily, as though he’s trying to stop himself from imploding.
“That’s not the point,” he hisses.
“Okay, you know what? You’re not making any sense,” Isabella tells him crossly. “And I’m in the middle of the interview. We can discuss this later.”
“So, as always, I have to work around you and your commitments?” he replies, his eyes narrowed to slits. “No, thanks. I’m out of here.”
He turns on his heel and struts out of the suite, slamming thedoor behind him. The room falls into silence. Isabella closes her eyes in despair.
Rachael clears her throat. “Isabella, would you like a glass of water?”
“No, I’m fine,” she states, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips.
“I can give you a minute,” I offer, half standing.
“No, wait,” Isabella says, her head snapping up as she looks at me, panicked. “I know there’s not much point in me asking this, but if there was any way that you could… omit that exchange from your interview, I would be so grateful.”
“Isabella, you don’t need to worry,” I say, sitting back down, “none of that happened in front of me. I wasn’t here.”
She hesitates. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“You can trust Harper,” Rachael says quietly, putting a hand on Isabella’s shoulder and giving me a warm, appreciative smile. “She won’t print a word about any of that.”
“It’s none of my business, and it’s none of the public’s, either. I’m here to talk about you and your movie. Not Elijah.”
Isabella looks unconvinced. “You… you won’t comment on my relationship in your article?”
I reach over to my digital voice recorder and stop the recording, then delete it. I put it back down on the table and shrug.
“You can let me know when you’re ready to begin the interview,” I say.
“Thank you,” she says, her eyes gleaming with tears. “It’s been a long day.”
“Days like this always are.”
“We’re both under a lot of pressure and with the baby…” Isabella trails off, gently stroking her belly. “I’m not sure Elijah was really prepared for what he was taking on.” She sighs, glancing up at me again. “I’m sorry you witnessed that. I’m embarrassed.”
“Oh god, don’t be,” I insist with a wave of my hand. “I’vehad full-on arguments with boyfriends before in public places. One of them was in a lobster restaurant and I decided to storm out, but I had one of those bibs tied round my neck and I could not get the bloody thing off. I was there trying to yank it from my neck while shuffling on my bottom to the end of the booth we were in, and he just sat there, along with anyone else who’d overheard the argument, watching me struggle with the bib in silence. It was not at all dignified.”
She chuckles. “Did you manage to get it off?”
“No, I did not. In the end, I stormed out of the restaurant and walked all the way home with the bib on.”
She bursts out laughing.
“Was that the guy you told me about who was obsessed with balloon animals?” Rachael asks, pouring Isabella a glass of water from a jug on the side, despite her objections.
“No, that was someone from school,” I correct. “The guy I dated in sixth form wanted to be a clown,” I explain to Isabella.
“What?” She looks at me in disbelief.
“He signed up for clown college and everything. Such a nice guy, but any time we hung out, he would make me a balloon animal. My room was filled with them.”
“Wow.” Isabella nods. “That is quite a hobby. Do you have a boyfriend now? Sorry—” she frowns “—that’s none of my business.”
