That feeling he’d experienced yesterday of wanting her to trust him and feel comfortable with him, hadn’t disappeared overnight. In fact, it had been such a long day, leaving him so bone-weary and cold, he couldn’t be bothered to beat himself up about the fact it might be dangerous to indulge himself in this way. What harm would it really do to make the most of this one brief opportunity each day when she was with him? He could appreciate her company for five minutes while they worked together – it didn’t mean he was going to do anything stupid. He could control himself.
Finally, he spotted an umbrella bobbing quickly along the wider road towards him. He recognised her quick steps, the way she made a little skip every few paces as though she wanted to break free and run but was restraining herself.
‘Hi.’ She arrived, a little breathless, the hood of her dark raincoat having dropped back, her hand white-knuckled on the big umbrella, which nearly spanned the mouth of the alleyway. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting – the makeup van is right down the other end.’ She pressed her lips together and glanced quickly up at him and then down at the camera she was cradling against her chest, the strap looped around her neck, so it nestled inside the turned-up collar of her coat.
‘That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting for you.’
She flicked her gaze up at him again, her green eyes wide, and he realised that had been a bit specific. He could have just said he didn’t mind waiting. Adding the “for you” bit was…well it was true, but maybe a little more revealing than he wanted to be. Tiredness evaporated his already lacking brain-to-mouth filter.
Well. Never mind. It was out there now. He smiled at her, and warmth blossomed in his chest when a smile crept over her mouth in return. Her shoulders visibly relaxed too. If she had been nervous about seeing him again, she looked reassured now.
‘Right, let’s get to it, so you can get out of those wet clothes.’
He was so distracted by the idea ofhergetting him out of his wet clothes that he didn’t notice how awkward it was for her to try and take the photos while still holding the umbrella, until she nearly poked him in the eye with it.
‘Whoa. Why don’t I take that?’ He lifted it over both their heads and moved a step closer. He caught that scent of fresh linen he’d noticed in the storeroom and heard her take a shaky breath.
‘Sorry. Thanks,’ she murmured and raised the camera, calling out to warn the rest of the crew, who hadn’t wasted any time dismantling the cameras. She stepped around him to take the last photo and bumped into someone approaching from behind.
All he could see of the other person was their feet and he found he was quite happy like this, in a little bubble with Lila. She spoke to them briefly as she zipped the camera away. When she turned back him, she was holding one of those large foil blankets marathon runners used in one hand and clutching a cardboard cup with steam rising from the hole in its lid, in the other.
‘Here. Tea.’ She passed it to him and then unfolded the blanket and went up on tiptoe to pull it around him.
‘I’m not sure this is necessary,’ he said, leaning down as she draped it over his shoulders.
‘Not as stylish as your other superhero costume, is it?’ she joked, flicking a little smile up at him. His heart did a sudden flip. Then she added seriously. ‘You’re shivering.’
He looked down at himself and realised he was, at the same moment he also realised she was tugging the blanket ends close together on his chest, standing so near that if he leaned just an inch or two closer, their bodies would meet. Rain drummed on the umbrella over his head and a strand of her black hair fell forward, out of her ponytail. He wanted to tuck it behind her ear. Leave his hand there, shaped around her cheek…
She stepped back and pulled out the cleaning wipes from her bag, moving around him again, using the stronger remover to wipe the water-resistant makeup from his skin, her touch firm and soothing, easing the tension from his forehead. He was tempted to close his eyes. Could he actually fall asleep this way?
Sleep. He so needed some proper sleep.
‘Is this decaf, d’you know?’ he asked, shocked to find his voice come out drowsily.
‘I’m not sure.’ She tilted her head as she looked at him, smoothing a wipe along the edge of his jaw in a way that made his pulse speed up. That had never happened with a makeup assistant before. ‘Surely you can’t be worried about it keeping you awake? You sound exhausted.’
‘It doesn’t matter. If I touch caffeine I’m doomed.’ He extended the warm cup towards her. ‘You might as well have this.’
‘No. Keep it under your cape. Even if you don’t drink it, it’ll work like one of those foot warmers they used to use in carriages. I’ve been tucked up in the van all night; you need it more.’ He wanted to tell her how thoughtful that was, but she pulled a fresh wipe from her bag and tilted his chin so she could reach the other side of his face. That fingertip on his chin was doing far more to warm him up than any hot beverage. ‘So, you have trouble sleeping? Insomnia?’ she asked softly.
‘Yeah. I go through spells of it.’ Although as she stroked that wipe along his face, he truly wondered if he’d have been able to prop himself back against the wall and drop off standing up. Maybe only if she promised to keep doing it.
‘That’s a long spell.’ She dropped her voice even lower. ‘I remember you saying something about needing more sleep back in London too. Is it the getting off or staying asleep?’
‘Both,’ he admitted, surprised she remembered that.Hedidn’t even remember saying anything about that.
‘That sucks. Someone I used to work with would go through acute spells of insomnia.’ She stepped back, putting everything away and tucking her hands into her coat pockets, her cheeks a little pink. ‘She was worn out. How are you managing to do all this? The days are so long, and I never really thought about how physical acting is. I got exhausted just watching you dragging that parachute around last week. How do you do it when you’ve had no sleep?’
‘Not cocaine if that’s where your mind was heading again.’
‘It never headed that way in the first place,’ she objected with a light behind her eyes at the shared joke.
‘Maybe it helps that I’ve tried to do everything that is supposed to help and – even if it doesn’t work to get me more sleep – maybe it helps me keep healthier generally.’
‘What kind of stuff? Maybe I should try it going forwards to help with night shoots?’ She laughed.
‘Well, exercising, but not too close to when I’m supposed to go to sleep. I don’t eat too close to bedtime either. Avoiding caffeine and alcohol, and I don’t smoke. I can’t do much about nights like this but in general I try to stick to a reasonable hour to go to bed. It just doesn’t seem to make a difference. Every so often this happens, and it feels like it goes on forever. Then it stops.’
