Page 33 of One Hollywood Sunset

‘To Sam and Jolie’s to get a bottle of wine to go with our Chinese. I thought we could eat in the gazebo. We’ve wrapped up toasty. It isn’t the four courses under here; I’ve got three layers under this jacket.’

Twenty minutes later, they were sat cross-legged in the gazebo in the town square, tucking into the Chinese food and sharing a straw to drink the bottle of white wine they’d bought.

‘You would have thought Sam and Jolie would’ve stocked up on plastic glasses by now. This has to be the fourth or fifth occasion we’ve drunk wine through a straw,’ Freya remarked as she took her turn with the bottle.

‘I’m more surprised you don’t carry some in your bag, along with the two cameras and the Blu Tack.’

‘And didn’t the Blu Tack come in handy when the hem of your trousers unravelled that time.’

‘Bottle please. It’s definitely my turn.’ He held his hand out for the wine.

Freya took a bite of her spring roll and watched Nicholas as he sucked on the straw. She was trying to wait for exactly the right moment to bring up Jonny. But she knew better than anyone that right moments never came. You had to face things head on and just get it out there.

‘Nick,’ she began.

‘Yeah.’

‘There’s something I have to tell you.’

‘Oh? Am I going to need to suck a bit harder on this straw to soften the blow?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Go on,’ he urged.

‘You remember I told you about Jonathan, the boy I went out with when I was seventeen.’

‘Of course I remember. You were in love with him. You told him who you were and took him to meet your folks and they welcomed him with open arms, only for your father to pay him money to leave you alone,’ Nicholas recounted.

‘Yes, you obviously don’t have a problem with your memory. That was about the size of it.’ She let out a nervous sigh. She didn’t know why she was nervous. There was nothing to this, absolutely nothing.

‘What about him?’

‘Well, I met him. Yesterday. He lives here now, in America.’ She’d said it quick before she backed out.

‘He’s Jonny.’ He put the bottle of wine down and sat up straight.

‘Yes. He’s Jonny,’ she admitted.

‘So, he isn’t the Jonny Sasha’s dating? That’s a different Jonny, is it?’

‘Yes. Well, actually Sasha isn’t exactly dating anyone called Jonny.’ Her face was red and she couldn’t look at Nicholas. She sounded like an infant lying and trying to cover it up very unsuccessfully.

And what was the big deal anyway? Nothing was going on.

‘No? You surprise me. Why didn’t you tell me, Freya?’

His expression was a mixture of angry and sad. Why hadn’t she told him straight away? Why had she kept it to herself?

‘Oh, I don’t know. It felt awkward and I didn’t want you to think what I thought you would think.’

‘And what did you think I would think?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe that I was hiding something from you, I suppose.’

‘Which you were. Are you saying you were too scared to tell me because you were worried about what I’d think?’

‘No. Yes. I don’t know what I thought. He’s just from my past. That horrible, awful past and I don’t want things from back then to be part of our future.’

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