To the Moon and Back

Chapter 24




‘What’s this? I didn’t send you this.’ Tony’s agent had called by the house in Beverly Hills to get a sheaf of contracts signed and show off his fresh-from-the-showroom lime-green Ferrari. As long as it ‘pulled the chicks’—Marvin’s own excruciating words—it didn’t bother him that the color clashed with his brick-red face. Now, out on the shaded terrace, he homed in on the screenplay lying on the table next to the water jug. ‘Where d’ya get this thing, Tone? Jeez, that’s the crappiest title I ever heard in my life.’

‘I know. But the script’s bloody good. In fact it’s amazing,’ said Tony. ‘Don’t pick it up.’

‘Bluddy good, bluddy good, amaaayzing.’ Marvin chuckled; it cracked him up to imitate Tony’s accent. ‘So who wrote it?’

‘No one you know. Just leave it. Here, have a drink. Are you hungry?’ Oh, it was so easy to wind Marvin up. Reverse psychology was a wonderful thing. Tony covertly watched as his agent picked up the script and turned to the first page.

In all honesty, it wasn’t the best first page in the world. Ninety-nine percent of agents would have given up. Then again, ninety-nine percent of agents didn’t have Tony Weston saying, as if he meant it, ‘I’m serious, Marvin, put it down, it’s nothing to do with you.’

What could be more enticing than that?

Tony got on with signing his way through the contracts Marvin had brought over. And he waited. When several more minutes had passed, he said, ‘Well?’

‘Interesting. Different.’ Marvin’s Prada shades were pushed up on to his shiny red forehead. If it had been physically possible, he would have been frowning. ‘There’s no part in it for you.’

‘I know. But I have a real feeling about this script. You know how sometimes you just get that? And it never does any harm to be the person who introduces the right script to the right producer. I have a few contacts that—’

‘Hello, mission control? Who has more contacts in this business? You or me?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Cor-rect.’ Marvin pointed a stubby finger at him. ‘I do. Who works for one of the biggest talent agencies in the country? Oh, wow, would ya believe it, me again. Tone, do the right thing here, wouldja? Just let me take care of this, let me take it back to the agency and show it to Stephen. If anyone can get a buzz going, he can.’

Tony hid a smile. In the space of a few minutes he hadn’t done such a bad job on the buzz front himself. But that was this industry for you. Appear desperate and you’re dead in the water. Tell someone they can’t have something and they’ll snap your hand off. Even now, Marvin was flicking through the pages of the screenplay with a greedy, acquisitive glint in his eye.

Welcome to Hollywood, baby.

***

‘Darling, come on, just say yes. You know you want to really.’

OK, the time had come. Zack prepared himself for the imminent fallout. He hadn’t actually planned for this to happen this evening, here in Louisa’s flat, but she had forced his hand. Throughout dinner all she’d talked about was holidays. Friends of hers had rented a luxury villa in Tuscany in late August and were keen for Louisa and Zack to join them, but they now needed a definite answer by tomorrow, presumably so that if they were turned down they could move on to the next couple on the list.

Zack also presumed that since it was already mid-July, he and Louisa hadn’t been anywhere near the top of it.

But Louisa had been enthralled by her friends’ offer and was longing to go. Now, desperate to persuade him that he did too, she was giving him her playful, encouraging look. ‘Think about how fabulous it’ll be. And best of all, it’s adults only! No ghastly screaming kids to ruin the ambience and fill the pool with inflatables.’ Evidently inflatables in a pool were on a par with used condoms. ‘Just glorious peace and quiet, wonderful food, grown-up conversation, and fine wine. What could be more idyllic?’

By grown-up conversation, needless to say, she meant endless discussions about which celebrity had the best face-lift. Right, here we go. Brace, brace. Zack said, ‘Honestly? It doesn’t sound that idyllic to me. My idea of a great holiday is going home to Cornwall and piling down to the beach with my nephews and nieces. We play volleyball and dig holes in the sand, we eat ice cream, we throw each other into the sea, and we make a lot—and I mean a lot—of noise.’

‘Oh!’ Louisa sat back, startled. ‘Oh… sorry, I had no idea.’ Mentally regrouping, she said hastily, ‘But that sounds nice too! Look, maybe we could pop down to see your family before we go to Italy…’

‘I really don’t think you’d like it,’ said Zack. ‘There are babies, there are dogs, there are whoopee cushions. There’s fish and chips, and games on the beach, and fairground rides.’ He shook his head. ‘And there’s very little in the way of grown-up conversation.’

‘But—’

‘In fact, anyone attempting even that much grown-up conversation’—he held up his hand, his finger and thumb a couple of millimeters apart—‘gets wrapped up in seaweed and chucked into the sea.’

‘OK, OK, I get it. You like noisy holidays. So what are we going to do?’ She fixed him with a let’s-negotiate smile.

‘I think you should go to Tuscany,’ said Zack. ‘You’ll have a great time.’

The smile faltered. ‘You mean… on my own?’

‘We don’t like the same things.’

Louisa’s eyebrows had gone right up. ‘On my own?’

‘Look, we need to talk.’ Zack put down his cheese knife; God, he hated this bit. ‘The thing is, I really think you’d be happier with someone else.’

‘I’d be happier with someone else,’ Louisa echoed, dumbfounded. ‘On holiday?’

‘Not just on holiday. In general. In your life.’

‘You mean… instead of you?’

‘No, no… well, yes.’ He was rubbish at this. How did other people do it? Please don’t let her start crying.

‘You’re finishing with me?’

‘Not finishing. I just think it would be better if we… you know, called it a day.’

Louisa put down her spoon. ‘But it wouldn’t be better for me. I don’t want to call it a day.’

OK, this wasn’t getting them anywhere. Zack took a deep breath and said steadily, ‘Yes, but I do.’

She let out a wail of anguish. ‘Zacky, why?’

He cringed. She’d just called him Zacky. Could he cite this as reason number one?

But that would be cruel. He didn’t want to be cruel. ‘Look, you’re great. It’s not you, it’s me. I work too hard. You deserve to be with someone who’ll make you happy.’

‘You make me happy.’

‘I wouldn’t.’ Zack shook his head. ‘Not in the long term.’

‘But I thought we were in it for the long term!’ She was crying now, trying to reach across the table for his hands. ‘I’m thirty-five, Zack. This was our future. I thought we’d end up having kids together, the works!’

This was the first he’d heard of it. ‘You don’t like kids,’ Zack pointed out. ‘The whole point of going to Tuscany was because there wouldn’t be any kids there to ruin the holiday.’

‘Other people’s kids. That’s completely different. I still want some of my own!’

Some?

‘I’m sorry.’ Zack stood up. ‘I should go. You’ll be fine…’

‘I can’t believe this. I cooked you dinner.’ Louisa flung out her arm in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Boulangère potatoes and rack of lamb! From a proper butcher!’

‘I know, and it was great.’ Maybe he should send her flowers tomorrow to say thanks. God, it was all so complicated and fraught. Why was it so much easier to walk away from a rocky business deal than from a no-hope emotional relationship?

‘Are you seeing someone else?’ She searched his face.

Zack kept his expression carefully neutral. ‘No, no one.’

‘Sure? Because that would make sense. More sense than you just deciding out of the blue that, hey, we like different holidays so let’s break up.’

‘I’m not seeing anyone else.’

‘Not even whatshername? That cute little PA of yours?’ Mascara was leaking into the creases around Louisa’s carefully made-up eyes. ‘Ellie?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. He saw Ellie almost every day. But not in the way Louisa meant. It killed him to see her and not be able to do anything, but it would be even harder to bear not seeing her at all.

At least they were in Louisa’s flat, meaning he could be the one to leave. In the hallway, she tried to throw herself into his arms. He gave her one last apologetic hug.

‘How about Disney World?’ She mumbled the words damply into his shoulder. ‘We could go there if you like.’

He didn’t reply.

Louisa pulled away and gazed miserably up at him. ‘No?’

‘Sorry.’ Zack shook his head; it was time to get out of here. ‘Bye.’