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I trail off in defeat.
The fact is, I have no idea what I want to do; or what would make me feel any better. I know Mum’s cooking isn’t going to do it, but neither are any of the other things I’d usually use to cheer myself up — like online shopping, say, or binge-watching old episodes ofGossip Girl.
And the house is still spotless afteryesterday’sattempt to make myself feel better, so that means cleaning’s out, too.
Whatdoyou do to cheer yourself up when your ex blocks you, and you’re branded a crazed psycho by a man who may or may not be your father? Surely there’s an influencer somewhere with a handy ‘how to’ guide forthat?
“I think I’ll go for a walk,” I say, hauling myself off the sofa, where I’ve been cocooning myself ever since I read Alan’s interview. “Maybe some fresh air will help. My ankle’s almost back to normal now, so I should probably get some exercise.”
Some fresh airwon’thelp. I know that, too. And, honestly, it’s too late to go for a walk now. The sun will be starting to go down soon. But I’ve been stuck in this house for hours now, and all I want is to get away from Mum, who seems to feel like she has to fuss over me to try to make up for her role in all of this. I’m hoping she’ll take the hint and finally go home, so I can crawl back onto the sofa, but it’s her day off today, and she doesn’t appear to have any plans, so, much to my horror, she announces she’s going to accompany me on the walk I totally wasn’t intending on actually taking.
“I need to keep an eye on you,” she says firmly. “To make sure you don’t do something stupid.”
I’m not sure whether she thinks I’m planning to throw myself into the loch, or throw something at Violet again, but either one of those things would count as “something stupid,” so I say nothing, and wait patiently as she puts on her coat and shoes.
A lovely mother/daughter walk. What could be better?
It’s much too windy for the beach, and it’s also in full view of the photographers who’re still gathered outside, so, after a brief tussle over who should drive, we jump into Mum’s car, and she drives us up into the hills above town, pulling into one of the little parking areas people use to go walking through the forest.
I get out of the car without enthusiasm. A hike through the woods is the last thing I feel like doing — atanytime, really, but especially when it’s about to get dark. Still, at least there’s virtually no chance of anyone seeing us out here. That has to be a plus point.
Or maybe not. Because just 20 minutes into our walk — and five minutes into yet another lengthy apology from Mum — Irealize the forest trail we’re walking along winds up the same hill Emerald View sits on top of; which means we’re currently way too close to the resort for comfort.
Or for me to guarantee I won’t fall foul of any restraining orders that might have been taken out against me since I last checked.
“Mum,” I say, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop. “Did you do this deliberately? Are you trying to take me to Emerald View to see Jett?”
“Don’t be silly, Lexie,” says Mum, starting to walk on. “We’re nowhere near Emerald View. This is where I always walk. It’s where we used to bring the dog when you were a little girl, don’t you remember?”
“Not really,” I mutter, following her. I used to walk our family dog, Ralph, by myself most of the time. Mum didn’t like the cold, she said. Or the mud. Or really anything about dog ownership. She liked theideaof having a pet, but not the reality of it; a bit like how she was with motherhood, actually.
She seems to know where she’s going now, though, so I trudge along after her, grateful for the rapidly fading light, which hopefully means no one will see us out here even if wedoget too close to The View.
I wish I could call Jett and tell him I’m out walking in the gloamin’. He’d get a kick out of that. Or he would if he was still talking to me, anyway.
I’m so busy thinking about this, and wondering if he’d answer if I tried calling him from Mum’s phone, that it takes me a few minutes to notice the light shining through the trees ahead of us. Once I’ve seen it, though, it becomes impossible to ignore: and it’s not just a light, either; it’s quite afewlights — big ones — plus a bunch of people, and noise, and…
“Mum,” I say grimly, grabbing her arm again. “Those are movie cameras, aren’t they? Did you know they were filming up here today?”
Sure enough, the area we’re walking towards isn’t just a clearing. It’s a film set. (And it’s not the gloamin’ lighting up the sky, either; it’s a couple of huge studio lights illuminating the area while crew members buzz around with clipboards and harassed expressions.
Oh my God. I can’t believe she’s brought me here.
No wonder she was so keen to get some exercise all of a sudden.
“Mum,” I hiss frantically, when she doesn’t answer. “We have to get out of here. I can’t be anywhere near Jett and Violet. You know that.”
“Och, they’re no’ here,” says Old Jimmy, appearing as if from nowhere. “The actors a’ left ages ago. They’re just clearin’ up now. Still, we might as well get started. Ye got the address fae Shona, I suppose? She said she’d put it on that Instagram.”
Mum glances at me guiltily.
“I did see something on Instagram about filming here today,” she admits. “I thought it would probably be done by now, though.”
“Oh, asif,” I say, furious. “You knew perfectly well it wouldn’t be. You were just hoping we’d ‘accidentally’ bump into Jett, weren’t you?”
“Aye, we were a’ hopin’ for that,” says Jimmy. “But it doesnae matter. We can still go ahead before they all bugger off for the night.”
I look around to see who the “we” is he’s referring to here, but he seems to be on his own; even Edna, his trusty sheep sidekick (sidesheep?) is missing.
