“I don’t care about them; I care about you.” She stepped a little closer. Still an expanse between us, but I thought of CADS and the way she’d got so close I could feel her breath on my skin. If she tried that again I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist the temptation of that space, felt my hands itching to reach for her, her soft satin shirt beneath my palms as I pushed her back. “You can spread whatever stories you want about me—they kind of fit with the brand. Fun, messy Harper. Nothing compared to what the right dirt on you could achieve.”
I arched a brow. “Good thing I’m spotless then.”
Harper laughed, aggressively. “Oh darling, we both know that’s not true.”
———
I started filmingStarborna few weeks later—the first commercial project I’d taken sinceDouble Down. But this was morethan I could hope for. Penelope Lutz, an up-and-coming female director was at the helm. (Yes, my first time with a woman directing—god, what a difference that made.) And I was starring opposite Caleb Krause, who was interested in a similar rebrand, away from the comedic relief to the hero of the hour. If the film landed, it would be an entire franchise. I would have merchandise. There would be dolls creepy nerds would keep in boxes to ensure mint condition.
It was an exciting prospect.
I’d spent those weeks preparing for the role—my ever-rigorous training schedule adjusted so its focus was not on an absence of weight but in building muscle. Finally, here we were, filming in the Arizona sands in the hope it emulated an alien planet. And it felt isolated, the middle of nowhere, our hotels a good hour drive away so that I felt zombie-like on that morning, in late September, with the early morning haze still lingering.
We were just two weeks into filming.
And it was a PA who rushed in, desperate, phone clutched in his hand that he shoved toward me.
I still had curlers in my hair.
“Nadine?” It was Victor, sounding as frantic as the PA, who cast me a strange sort of look before he ducked away again.
“What’s wrong?” I said, rising to my feet like I might outrun this. Victor was scheduled appointments and phone calls on the hour as a meeting finished—not this.
“I’m so sorry. We didn’t see—they’d tried to get in touch, but it got filtered and … your parents have been in an accident.”
The world around me began to fade, and next I knew I was on those sands, flat on my back staring at the bright, burning sky above.
They had been swimming—and when had they begun doing that? Driving to Whitby and wading into the ocean, joining a whole club of wild swimmers with plans to retire nearby—and got caught in a riptide—it can happen to anyone, apparently, sudden and random—and the alarm was only raised when a third parking ticket was placed on their car—why? My father worked like it was the way his body moved, to wake and eat and work and eat and shower and sleep. My mother phoned her sister every night to discuss the latestCorrie.How hadn’t anyone else noticed?—and they found the bodies this morning, had been trying to get in touch with me for days, but how do you contact a famous actress in Hollywood? Sent off an email to my agent that got caught by his firewall and stuck in his junk folder, so it was local news, and then national news, and then international news before anyone thought to let me know.
I wanted the sands to pull me through, to consume me and bury me there.
There were paparazzi with long-range cameras already—capturing every moment of my reaction: from lying on that sand to Caleb helping me rise, holding me close, though I don’t remember that hug, and guiding me back to set, my dazed form stood before Penelope Lutz and a few of the techies as they spoke, telling me logistics I couldn’t quite understand before I was in a car back to the hotel.
I ignored enough calls from Ruchi that she jumped on the first flight to Arizona, which was very much not her job. Butby this point I think I knew she cared, our careers and goals were entwined, and I might have considered her my closest confidante, even if she saw me only as a girl left in her charge.
“Do you want to go home?” she asked.
“No, no, god no.” I couldn’t face LA, not right now. I knew the paparazzi would surround my home, would press in even more intrusively than they had before.
“I need to tell you that if you don’t go back for the funeral it won’t be a good look—but if you’re not up for it, we can handle it.”
Oh, that’s what she’d meant byhome.England. Yorkshire.
I thought of my last trip back and knew I couldn’t bear it.
I knew too that I might be able to suffer through if I had someone by my side: Ivan or Sasha or Ruchi herself. But I didn’t know how to ask. Sasha could tell me I could ring anytime, Ivan could rush to the hospital for me and Ruchi could fly herself to Arizona, and I still couldn’t choke out what it meant, what I needed.
“I’ll go,” I said quietly, even though I knew I could not handle this. It would shatter whatever weakening barrier I’d put between me and all the complicated messiness of my home, my family, everything.
I didn’t go into it unaware—I knew it would break me.
But I lined myself up in the sights, and I pulled the trigger anyway.
———
It was a quick visit home, dominated by stepping into thevarious cars Lana had arranged and barricading myself in my hotel room. I had not told Ruchi I couldn’t see my family home, but I think she knew. I stood at the funeral in a dark coat and sunglasses, looking for paparazzi who were less invasive here but more underhanded, set up a respectful distance away to intrude in and capture the shot.
Everyone kept a wide berth, even my extended family who perhaps clapped me on the shoulder or offered their condolences but clearly saw me as the estranged, distant being that didn’t fit here at all (my aunt offered me a tissue though, just as she had at my grandfather’s funeral, and next thing I knew I was sobbing in the back of a car, the driver pulling the divider up hurriedly).
