His body language suggested that I had maybe forty per cent of his trust back, so I risked pushing it. ‘Can you talk about it a little? In very generic terms? Something about how seeing Heather through Cece’s eyes made you realise that you’re not compatible? It doesn’t need to be specific. The less specific the better, really. That’ll help me edit around it.’
He considered it.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I can do that.’
‘Thank you. Okay. Tell me about the group date today. What were you looking for? What was Cece helping you look for?’
Romeo-Dylan launched into a monologue about cooperation, and how being in a relationship was like being on a team. It was beautiful and eloquent. It had paragraphs, packed with Prince Charming shit.
‘It’s interesting to see how people work at something,’ he said. ‘Even if it’s something completely ridiculous. A relationship should be a partnership, and that takes work. Collaborative work.’
Partnership.
Lily was going to be so furious I’d undercut her play.
‘Murray, you’ve got to come now!’
‘For fuck’s sake, Tim!’ I snapped. ‘We’re in the middle of an interview.’
‘I’m sorry, but I was in the monitor room, and—’ Tim/Tom stopped, hands on his thighs as he bent over and tooka gulping breath of air ‘—and I looked over at the Convent feed, and – Heather’s beating the shit out of Cece.’
Romeo-Dylan bolted out of the room so fast it was barely perceptible to the human eye.
‘Pack it up and follow him,’ I barked at the startled crew. ‘Now!’
It was instinct, my mouth skipping ahead of my brain, but I would have done the same thing even if I’d had more time. If something dramatic was happening, then we needed to get it on camera.
We caught up to Romeo-Dylan just as he reached the Convent, our golf carts barely a match for his dead sprint. ‘Are you okay?’ he was asking Cece when we pulled up, her chin in his fingers as he examined her face for injuries. ‘Did she hurt you?’
‘I’m okay,’ Cece said.
Romeo-Dylan pulled her to him. ‘I’m so sorry. I should never have put you in this situation. I’m so sorry.’
Cece wound her arms around his neck. One of his hands came up to cup the back of her head, pressing her face into his throat – and I made a mental note to comb through the Convent footage in more detail, because this was starting to smell like a very inconvenient development.
‘What are you doing here?’ Cece asked him. ‘How did you know that she…?’
‘We were filming an interview when one of the PAs came rushing in to tell us that she’d seen Heather beating the shit out of you on the monitor,’ I interrupted, before they could declare passionate undying love to each other.
I couldn’t see any blood or bruises, so it seemed like Tim/Tom had been exaggerating (thankfully, for both our insurance premiums and my relationship with Romeo-Dylan), but I needed to check. ‘Did she? Beat the shit out of you?’
‘No,’ Cece said. ‘She just slapped me. It’s not that big a deal.’
‘Not that big a deal?’ Romeo-Dylan exclaimed. ‘She hit you!’
He let go of Cece and started up the stairs of the Convent – and I did a lot of calculations very, very fast.
‘Dylan, wait!’
‘No!’ He wheeled back to face me. ‘This can’t stand. Absolutely the fuck not.’
‘I’m not saying it will stand. Just wait a minute.’
I prayed, to any higher power that might be listening, that he trusted me enough to listen to me.
‘One minute.’ Romeo-Dylan folded his arms. ‘That’s it.’
‘We need to think about this from a production standpoint.’
