Page 68 of One Hollywood Sunset

‘Freya?’ Roger asked.

‘Actually, I don’t feel so good. I feel a bit lightheaded and…’ She couldn’t control her breathing. Her heart was pounding and the room was spinning.

She heard the front door burst open. Nicholas entered the kitchen and she fell.

‘Oh my God! You told her! You idiot! Roger, get an ambulance. Get an ambulance now!’ Nicholas yelled.

‘What’s happened to her?’ Jonathan questioned as Nicholas picked Freya up from the floor.

‘Her blood pressure’s been going up and she’s been fainting. I wonder what could have brought that on?! Jolie, could you fetch a blanket? There are some in the cupboard at the top of the stairs.’ He lifted Freya into his arms and made his way down the hall.

‘Of course,’ Jolie answered.

Nicholas lay Freya on the sofa and stroked her hair back from her face. Her skin was pale and moist with sweat.

‘Come on, Freya. Just hold on for the ambulance. They won’t be long, I promise.’

‘Is she going to be alright?’ Jonathan asked, entering the room.

‘How should I know?! I’m not a doctor, am I! But I tell you something, you’d better start praying she’s going to be OK or you and Daddy are going to wish you’d never set eyes on me.’

‘Here’s the blanket,’ Jolie said. She tucked the throw around Freya.

‘Thanks, Jolie. Sorry about this. Roger, where’s the damn ambulance?’ Nicholas called.

‘I’m having trouble getting through,’ Roger shouted in reply.

‘Forget it! We’ll take her. Get the keys to the SUV.’ He picked Freya up again and made his way to the front door.

‘Look, take my car. It’s quicker than that thing and there’s more room than your car,’ Jonathan offered.

‘I don’t want anything to do with you,’ Nicholas hissed.

‘Don’t be stupid, Nick. For God’s sake, just take the car. Take it for Freya.’ He held the keys out.

Nicholas grabbed the keys, Jolie opened the front door and they all went down the porch steps and onto the driveway.

‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Jolie asked, helping Nicholas settle Freya onto the back seat of the car.

‘No, Jolie, you go home. Thanks for staying with Freya tonight. I…’

‘Give me the keys. You get in the back with Freya. I’ll drive,’ Roger ordered.

‘I’ll wait here. Secure the house if you like,’ Jonathan offered.

‘Call yourself a cab. There’s nothing valuable in the house. The only thing I care about is laid out on the back seat of the car.’ Nicholas got in the car and slammed the door behind him.

Roger sped off up the driveway and out of the gate, just missing the half a dozen photographers camped outside.

25

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.

Freya was Dorothy. Jonathan was the cowardly lion. Nick was the tin man. Willis was Toto. Her father was the Wizard of Oz. And the yellow brick road wasn’t made out of bricks; it was made out of gold ingots and Freya wasn’t seeking the wizard’s advice. The cowardly lion was chasing her. He was telling her to stop and listen. Toto was weaving in and out of her legs, trying to trip her up. The tin man, who she was trying to reach, seemed to be getting further and further away. The Wizard of Oz was laughing, over and over again and the noise was getting louder and louder until she couldn’t hear herself think. She wanted to scream.

Freya snapped open her eyes, her breathing rapid, her face damp. Her head throbbed and her throat was sore. There was a familiar, eyeball-penetrating, bright, white light above her head. It was then she knew she was in Carlton General Hospital again.

‘Hi,’ Nicholas whispered. He touched Freya’s arm and leaned closer to her from his seated position at the side of her bed.

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