‘Ignore them,’ he grumbles under his breath, sensing the tension in my body and my predator glower.
‘They can’t just—’ I begin to insist but he cuts me off.
‘Ignore them.’ His face is rigid. He’s trying to hold it together and that only makes me want to flip even more. But, I see how he’s his father’s son in the way he transforms his entire mien, even down to the curve of his shoulders as we approach the table of a man and a woman, armed with iPads and glasses of wine. ‘Natalie, Rhys.’ Arthur leans forward to shake their hands before introducing me. ‘This is the talent behind the project: Beatrice Norton.’
I wipe my hand on my jeans before outstretching it,and the two professionals eye me with a smile. ‘Nervous?’ Natalie asks before wisely skipping the handshake to take her seat.
‘A little,’ I confess, pulling out the chair opposite her.
‘Don’t be. Just imagine we’re friends brainstorming in a bar.’ Shifting to take another look at my surroundings, I’m not sure what sort of bars she frequents but I guarantee it’s not one in Lincolnshire where most of the patrons are miserable farmers.
‘What would you like to drink?’ Arthur leans over to ask, the menu open in his hands.
They aren’t going to have Tracy prices in here. That woman pretty much makes a loss on her booze just so people in the village can still afford a drink and I reckon I’ll need a mortgage for a pint in this place. ‘I’ll just have a water please.’
The first ten minutes are filled with small talk. From what I gather, Arthur met Rhys and Natalie on various sets he’s been on with his dad. They chat away about an arrary of names, some I recognise, a lot I don’t, and I sit sipping my water trying not to get in the way of their catch-up.
‘So, Beatrice,’ Natalie finally addresses me, ‘tell us about yourself, you don’t normally do this sort of thing, do you?’
‘Funnily enough, I didn’t even think I’d be here today. I had dressed for my usual job on the farm.’ Natalie laughs politely.
‘Beatrice was a writer for a time in London. Weren’t you, Bea?’ Arthur prompts, and I nod. I seem to have forgotten how to sell myself. It’s far harder when your appearance marks you out as different from the get-go.
‘So, having a little sabbatical in the country? Good place for inspiration?’ Rhys asks this time and I take extra pains to make sure my smile doesn’t drop. These people don’t need the truth; they just need to believe in the story.
‘That’s what has inspired this story actually.’ I try and refocus the topic of conversation. I don’t want to talk about myself; I have too many tender bruises that I don’t fancy pressing right here, and I don’t think either Natalie or Rhys would appreciate it either.
‘Have you written anything we’d know, Beatrice?’ Natalie looks up from her iPad, stylus in hand, ready to make notes.
‘Certainly nothing of your calibre.’ I laugh, hoping the humility will soften them. ‘A few indie films.’
‘More of a hobbyist then would you say?’ My eye twitches against all of my attempts to keep my face impenetrable.
‘Not at all.’ Arthur speaks for me. ‘She’s just being modest. Beatrice Norton is a professional in every way. You’ll see that in the quality of her script. You guys know how many I’ve read over the years in my household, so I’m sure you’ll trust I know what I’m talking about. Beatrice has a talent I haven’t seen before.’ My face flushes and I have to take a swig of water to stop myself from trembling at his words. Has this man been googling me? I certainly haven’t told him any details about my scripts? Or is he just playing it up for the audience? Arthur is a showman, his words are emboldened for effect, but they still make my heart race even though I tell myself they’re a wild exaggeration.
‘This is such an interesting collaboration.’ Rhys addressesArthur. ‘How come you’ve gone down the writing/producing route now?’
‘I think we can all agree that acting was never for me.’ Arthur makes the table titter in knowing amusement. He’sverygood. ‘I think before I just never had a story worth telling.’
‘You do now?’ Natalie presses.
‘I certainly think so.’
‘I have to admit I was rather excited to receive your email, Arthur.’ Rhys grins and for the first time all day, confidence seeps into me. That’s the face of an interested man if ever I’ve seen one. Can we really do this? ‘Yours is a name I’ve been after for a while. And I must say, this new path intrigues me. And I reckon it could excite an audience even more.’
‘Absolutely.’ Natalie nods in agreement. ‘The studios are crying out for something we can push to your sort of audience, Arthur. It is a romance, isn’t it?’
Did she even read his pitch? ‘It’s not a romance,’ I say firmly.
‘My audience?’ Arthur looks how I feel, his eyebrows slanted in confusion.
‘You know, teens who can’t get enough of you, and your persona. The social media, TikTok audience. We need that bubble-gum, easy-watching film that the name Arthur Cavendish screams.’
Arthur’s knee bounces, causing the table to tremble. Placing my hand on his thigh to steady him, he relaxes at my touch.
‘I think we might have gotten a few wires crossed in my email.’ He laughs breathily, and he hides his discomfort well.
When Rhys orders his third glass of wine, we finally start to talk about the film. Well, at least Arthur does. I sip on my water, trying to keep breathing as he turns into someone entirely different than the person that I’ve spent weeks on a farm with. He puts on a show. He’s confident, controlled, charismatic. He’s in his element it seems, surrounded by all of this glitz and talking about an industry he was born into.
