The Road To Her Part 10

"Sure." I was aware of both the cameraman's and Stuart's growing impatience. That didn't make my struggling any easier.

"Ready in three, two, one," Stuart counted me down. "And action."

Why did you ignore me in the club, Elise? I looked at Elise, sitting impa.s.sively opposite me at the kitchen set table. Why did you think it was okay to get with some stranger then tell me about it this morning? Don't you know this is killing me?

"I can't be without you, Casey." I spoke robotically. "I don't think you realise just what you mean to me." I looked at Elise's hand in mine, then back up to her face.

She stared back at me, her eyes questioning. "Your line," she mouthed when I didn't speak, "not mine."

"Cut!"

The pattern of stuttering and missed cues continued. I could hear Elise inhale deeply each time I corpsed or asked to try something again because I wasn't happy with it. When she wasn't prompting me for my line, she was repeatedly suggesting that I add something more to my scenes-a sigh here, a flick of my hair there-but it was impossible. Finally after about an hour, she broke.

"Are you deliberately trying to make this the longest afternoon in history?" she whispered while Stuart halted filming to talk to the lighting guy about changing some angles.

"I'm sorry." I pulled my hands wearily through my hair. "Not a good day today."

"No." She looked at me, her face dark.

"I said I'm sorry," I repeated, wanting her to tell me everything was going to be okay.

"Maybe concentrate, more than being sorry." She smiled. Was her smile kind? Or forced? I wished I knew.

"I'm trying my best here." My voice was thick. "Just give me a break, will you?"

"And that's your best?" Elise asked dismissively, leaning back in her chair and turning to face away from me.

I stared at her dumbly, my face burning.

"You okay, Holly?" Stuart, still talking to the lighting guy, jerked his chin in my direction.

I paused, still looking at Elise's back.

"Give me a sec, yeah Stu?" I called over to him.

I willed Elise to look back at me, but she didn't. Instead, she sat brooding, resolutely refusing to acknowledge that I was still sitting opposite her, and I figured at that moment she must have hated me. Well, I didn't want her to hate me. I wanted her to like me. What's so hard about that? I wanted her to like me like I liked her, but she was never going to, was she? I couldn't even go there because she was straight. She liked men; she'd proved that over the last two nights. Why the h.e.l.l would she even ever look twice at me?

Without another word, I got up and walked to the corner of the set, angrily wiping away tears of frustration. I stared at the wall in front of me, listening to the sounds of cameras being moved around behind me and of Stuart barking orders at yet another runner on the set.

I so didn't want to be like this, running away from Elise like a petulant child each time she said something to me that upset me, but I just couldn't help myself. Something in Elise and the way she looked at me brought out the hesitant, uncertain actress in me time and again, and I just didn't know what I could do about it.

A shadow covered me, and I was instantly aware of someone standing right behind me. I flinched as Elise put her hand on my shoulder, closing my eyes as I heard her quiet voice.

"I'm sorry."

I turned to face her. "No, I'm sorry," I said. "Dumb reaction."

"I didn't mean to upset you, you know." She stood in front of me, her hand still on my shoulder.

"You didn't upset me, Elise," I said, taking a deep breath.

"You sure about that?" Elise asked. "I wish I knew what it is I do that annoys or upsets you so much, Holly." She studied my face. "Or why you go running off every time I say or do something that you don't agree with."

"I didn't go running off, Elise," I lied. "I just needed five."

"But you don't like it when I say something you disagree with, do you?" Elise asked gently.

"I don't like you being impatient with me, no," I said.

"Who was being impatient?" Elise looked at me in surprise.

"I don't know," I mumbled, aware that I was being stupid and immature again. "That's how it felt."

"I wasn't being impatient, Hol." She finally dropped her hand from my shoulder.

"Well, it felt like it," I mumbled. I leant against the wall and started picking at a loose thread on my jumper, embarra.s.sed at how I was being with her. How could I explain to her that the only reason I'd fled from the set was because of her? How every criticism she directed my way was like a knife in my heart?

I had to be professional. I was just her co-star, for c.r.a.p's sake! I mean, how stupid would I look if I told her that I was confusing life and fiction, that the lines between what was real and what we were acting out on screen each night were becoming blurred?

For me, anyway.

Elise finally came and stood beside me, so that we were now both leaning against the wall. "Oh, Holly Eight-Year!" Sighing, she leant her head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. I looked across and took in the sight of her fine cheekbones, her soft skin, her cute dimples, and her beautifully long eyelashes fluttering briefly each time she blinked. Here she was, standing so close to me, so close I could practically feel the warmth from her, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was desperate to touch her, willing her to turn and look at me, but still she stood staring up at the ceiling.

"I still don't think you like me very much, do you?" Suddenly she turned and looked at me, making me quickly look away. "Despite everything."

I felt my face flush with embarra.s.sment, as if she'd been reading my mind. "I do," I said, probably more defensively than it should have been. "I do like you."

Didn't she realise that I now knew exactly what I liked about her? Her confidence, her att.i.tude, her b.a.l.l.s? Didn't she know that's what turned me on? That's what gave me a reason to get up each morning? That I lived and breathed her exuberance, that it hypnotised me, lifted me, made me feel a better person? I felt alive when I was around her, felt like she and I could do anything. We were invincible-Jasey were invincible in Portobello Road, and Hollise could be invincible in real life.

Hollise. Holly and Elise.

I turned the words over in my head as Elise continued to talk, not listening to a word she was saying. I liked the idea of Hollise. Together, Elise and I could do anything-I was certain of that. She'd never have a bad experience with me like she'd done when she'd been in LA.

"I don't like to think I've upset you, Holly," Elise said, interrupting my thoughts. "I didn't mean to." She caught my eye. "I'm sorry."

"Okay." I didn't know what else to say.

"If I was impatient, then I apologise," Elise was now saying. "I know I can be a bit in-your-face-G.o.d knows I've been told enough times-but I don't mean to be, certainly not with you. Sometimes it just comes out wrong."

I didn't answer her.

"I just want us to be friends," she said. "Because I like you, and I like working with you."

Friends? Just friends?

"Me, too," I finally said feebly. I waited for her to say something else, but she didn't. Instead, she looked at her watch and sighed.

"Good." She finally pulled herself away from the wall.

"Just give me five minutes," I said to her now. "I'll follow you back over there, okay?" I jerked my chin towards the set.

"Okay," Elise said, running her hand down my arm.

She slowly walked away from me, talking briefly to Stuart as she approached him back on set. I stared at her back, wondering what she was saying to him, then shook my head. I was being stupid, letting her get to me the way she was. She was my co-star, she was straight, she was dating Stig, and she'd never be anything more than just the girl I happened to work with. The sooner I accepted that, the sooner I could move on. She was affecting my work, work that I was d.a.m.ned good at and had been for years.

Well, no more. I was ready now. This time I wasn't going to b.a.l.l.s things up.

Chapter Eleven.

After we'd finally finished shooting that afternoon, I didn't see Elise again for the rest of the day, or for the rest of the weekend, either. I was relieved, actually, because not seeing her and not hearing from her for nearly forty-eight hours gave me time to think about things, and a chance to try to figure out the best thing to do, which was easier said than done. The trouble was, I just didn't know what to do. I had to work with her, there was no escaping from that, but I figured the more I kept it totally on a professional level, then the easier it would be to handle.

That meant no going round to her dressing room, no hanging out with her between takes, and certainly no going out clubbing with her at all. It also meant not taking any of her funny moods personally, or taking to heart any of her occasional asides to me during and after filming. I was a professional; I made my living out of pretending to be someone I wasn't, so it should be second nature, right?

Wrong.

All the advice I'd given to myself in the few days I didn't see Elise counted for zip when I returned to work Monday morning and saw her again in the car park, arriving just before me. I sat in my car and watched, hypnotised, as she got out of hers, her long legs unfurling from her seat, and shrugged her jacket on. She was dressed down in a simple jacket-and-trouser combination, but she was still achingly beautiful, I thought.

I saw her spot me, and my heart skipped when she then waved at me and stood by her car, waiting for me.

"Hey!" She looked genuinely pleased to see me as I finally got out of my car and wandered towards her.

"All right?" I tried to act normally, desperate not to focus too much on her face. Instead I rooted around in my shoulder bag for some imaginary thing, only so I could stare down into it and not have to look at her.

Would she be able to tell from the look on my face what I was thinking? Would she be able to detect a change in me?

"Good weekend?" she asked. "Or what was left of it, anyway?"

We started walking together towards the entrance to the studios, and I made sure I walked a good few feet from her so my arm wouldn't brush against her. Stupid, I know.

"Not bad," I replied. "You?"

"It was awesome, yeah." She seemed happy, so I could only guess that she'd either spent it with Stig or that she'd pulled another guy in another club somewhere. Whatever it was, I didn't want to know.

We walked on in silence through the entrance. I deliberately didn't ask her what it was that had made her weekend so awesome, really not wanting to hear about her getting it on with some guy.

"I was in Manchester all weekend," Elise now said as we walked side by side down the corridor to our dressing rooms.

Not with Stig. Please, not with Stig...

"Staying with my parents," she added.

Her parents!

I was practically weak with relief that she hadn't spent the last day and a half under a duvet with Stig.

"It was good to chill out with them for a bit," she said. "It felt as though I hadn't seen them, like, forever." Elise opened the door to another corridor and stepped back, allowing me to pa.s.s. "So I've allowed myself to be royally spoilt by Mum and Dad all weekend. It's been great."

"My parents live out in the middle of the countryside," I said lamely. "I don't get to see them so much, either." I wanted to tell Elise that I'd had just as good a weekend as her, but of course I couldn't. I'd barely left the apartment since I arrived home late on the Sat.u.r.day after filming our promo shots, choosing to mooch around in my PJs thinking stuff over and over again rather than going out anywhere. I just hadn't had the energy, the heart, or the enthusiasm to do anything other than brood, replaying past conversations I'd had with Elise, and past confrontations, too. I'd even stood in my kitchen staring at the spot where the spider had been, just thinking about Elise and how she'd made me laugh so much that night.

"Did you...did you do the clubs on Sat.u.r.day?" I asked Elise tentatively, wanting to know whether she'd pulled again, but dreading the answer at the same time. "I hear they're awesome up in Manchester."

"Nah," she said, slowing down as she approached her dressing room door. "I stayed in and watched a DVD with my mum. How boring am I becoming?" She b.u.mped my shoulder playfully and I suddenly felt so happy, it was ridiculous.

"Anyway, see you in make-up in a bit," she said, going into her room and closing the door after her. I stood and looked at her door awhile, thinking how stupidly relieved I felt that she hadn't gone to Manchester with Stig, that she hadn't gone out on Sat.u.r.day night and-more importantly-that she hadn't hooked up with another guy all in one weekend.

I bit at my lip, staring down at the carpet. Was it always going to be like this? Always wondering what Elise was getting up to? Being pathetically grateful when she told me she'd stayed in, whilst getting pathetically upset if I knew she'd gone out? I hated feeling jealous over her, knowing there was nothing I could do about it.

I wandered on down to my own dressing room, deep in thought. We had about another half hour before we were due in make-up, so I got my phone out from my bag and s...o...b..d out on the sofa in there, surfing the net and catching up with the few e-mails that were lurking in my inbox.

My eye scanned it, filtering out the junk from the important in amongst the twelve unread mails in there. As I looked at the list, I felt a coldness rush down my arm from the phone, across my shoulders, and down my back. Sitting waiting for me in amongst all the other e-mails was one from Grace, sent late the night before.

I stared at her name, still in bold. Grace Thomas.

I hadn't seen her name for over two years, and now it hit me like a hard slap across the face. She'd never contacted me after she'd disappeared to Madrid-why should she have? She'd moved on the second she'd got on that plane at Heathrow, already thinking ahead to her new life with her new Spanish girlfriend. What had I mattered? Did she care whether I'd spent the best part of six months getting over her, living my life in a daze, throwing myself into my work because I knew if I didn't, my world would collapse around my ears? No, she didn't.

I pressed my thumb on her name and saw her message unfurl before me.

Hey Holly, it began.

How are you? It's been a while, huh? I just wanted to see how you are. How's Jasmine treating you? lol Are you even still in the programme? I haven't kept up with what's been going on over there so I don't know if you're still doing what you did, or if you're even still living in London.

I'm single again. Me and Pilar broke up- Pilar? That was her name? I never even knew what it was.

I read the rest of her e-mail in a daze, not really taking in the stuff she was telling me about her work, and about how her parents were now living in Ireland, and blah, blah, blah. Her last few lines totally caught my attention, though, so much so that they got me sitting up on the sofa and reading them three times over.

I'm moving back to the UK but staying with my parents over in Ireland until I get myself something sorted in London. I'll be coming through Heathrow on my way over to my parents' place next Friday and I'd really like to see you, Holly. I've missed you- What the...?

I read the last part again.

I've missed you.

Pity you never missed me all the time you were in Spain, isn't it? I thought savagely as I switched my phone off and flung it onto the sofa.

I thought my head was going to burst. Grace was coming home. More than that, she was coming to London and wanted to see me. Madness! Why now? Why f.u.c.king now? As if my head wasn't puddled enough with thoughts of Elise, now Grace was coming in and s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g me up even more by not only telling me she was moving back to the UK, but that she missed me and wanted to see me.

I let myself fall sideways onto the sofa, turning onto my back and, drawing my knees up, lay back and stared up at the ceiling. I didn't know what to do. Did I want to see Grace again, after all this time?

I was so over her.

Right?

Seeing her again wouldn't be a problem.