Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“Sweetcorn,” he manages to choke out after what feels like forever.
“Oh, it’s just as you walk in!” Josie says in her songlike customer service tone.
“Must’ve missed it.”
“Don’t worry yourself. I’ll grab it for you. How many ears? They’re big’uns, mind.”
“Uh, six should do it,” he calls as Josie makes her way across the shop. “Thanks.”
As I stand here, staring at William, I want to place my hand on his chest, which is rising and falling too quickly, and keep it there until he calms down. I want to take away the worry lines nipping at his eyes, use my thumbs to smooth them out while I tell him it’s okay, he’s okay. I want to feel his too-long stubble graze my cheek as I whisper in his ear. Hold him close until he stops looking like he wants to be sick. I want to take all the pain he’s feeling away. But…is that even possible when it’s my presence causing it in the first place?
Back at the till, Josie loads the corn into a paper bag, twisting the edges to seal it. She rings it up. William pays her. Then, he leaves with nothing but a short, sharp, “Bye,” aimed at both of us.
He’s barely got one foot out the door before Josie starts the interrogation. “What was that about?”
“Work.” My answer is concise, but as confident as my expression. Trouble is Josie has known me a lot longer than anyone who pays to see me act.
“Work? Cut the crap, Laurie. Emmett said that man was your friend. He didn’t look very happy to see you.”
I shouldn’t be here. Why didn’t I phone ahead? “We had a few words while I was filming last week, okay? I wanted to clear the air, that’s all.”
“A few words?”
“Jesus, Josie, can we lose the fucking parrot? Aye, a few words.” I start to feel bad when her eyes widen, the shock of my raised voice registering on her face. “I was having a bad day. Acted like a dick. Spoke to him like shit. You know how I can be sometimes.”
“Until just now, no. I didn’t.”
My head tilts, eyes roll. Although, I deserve that. “He called me out on it. The set closed for the break, and here we are. That’s it.”
Josie doesn’t believe me. If she did, her eyebrows would be even. Her chin wouldn’t be tipped so slightly towards the ceiling. I know these tells. I’m trained to replicate them. The only reason she isn’t pressing it is because the customer who entered after William has just joined us at the counter.
“Find everything you needed, Henry?” Josie asks with a smile. No doubt she’s only tucked her sour and dubious face away to the side, ready to use on me again later.
Still, I seize the opportunity to make my escape. “I’m off to the house to see Dad.”
“He’ll be in the field with Caleb at this time,” she says while punching buttons on the till. “But you could make a start on the trifle for the Walkers tonight. There are instructions on the fridge.”
I have a funny feeling my skin is losing colour, just like William’s. “The Walkers?”
“Now who’s the parrot?”
I ignore her grin. “Why are you making trifle for the Walkers?”
“Because we’re having dinner at their cottage tonight. Oh, you’ll adore Rebecca. She says you haven’t met yet.” Josie breaks eye contact for a moment to return to her customer. She thanks him, says goodbye, and I’ve lost my chance to leave unscathed. “We have so much in common. I think we could quite possibly stay friends. You’ll like her.”
Fuck.
Just…fuck.
“Yeah, uh, I’m pretty tired. Travelling, you know. I think I’ll miss it. Maybe I’ll catch her before they leave.”
“Nonsense. You’ve come from London, not New bloody Zealand.”
“For your information, I was at an awards thing in Berlin two nights ago.”
Josie snorts, shakes her head. “Germany. What’s that, an hour and a half, two hours away?”
I shrug. “The after party was a long one.”
Her head’s still shaking. She’s having none of my bullshit. “So, soak the fruit and the ladyfingers, make the jelly, then take an hour on the settee. You’re not staying home alone. Your dad won’t allow it for starters. It’ll look rude.”
I suspect Rebecca Walker would wish being rude was the worst I was capable of if she knew the things I dreamed of doing to her husband.
“Ladyfingers. Fruit. Got it,” I say in defeat, turning for the door. I won’t win this here. Maybe I’ll need to call for backup. Ask Andy to conjure some kind of ‘emergency’. Or, perhaps…I could go and meet William’s wife. Peer into his life. See the charade he’s afraid to let go of.
Witness the family I could be about to destroy.
“And jelly!” I hear Josie call, but I’m already out the door. I raise a hand to acknowledge her, while not giving a flying shite about jelly or trifle, and start walking back to the main house.