Page 41 of Before You Say Goodbye

“I think we’ve already established that,” Larry said irritably. “Can you rewrite it or not?”

Marley mused over the question. “You probably don’t deserve me to. But, yeah, I think we can.”

He handed Autumn the laptop she’d asked him to bring so she could work on her own stuff alongside them.

“I don’t know who you’re trying to kid,” Marley muttered to her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she replied indignantly.

“There’s no way you’re going to do anything except stare at Bowie all day.” Marley enjoyed teasing the two of them about their romance in a way that was, she was assured by the others, entirely normal for siblings who were close.

“We can stare at him together.” Phil hooted with laughter. “God, I’ve missed his face.”

“What about my face?” Marley asked.

Phil grinned. “He’s the better-looking one.”

“I’ve always thought it.” Marley nodded.

“I’d climb either of them like a tree given a shot.” Phil nudged Autumn playfully.

“You had your chance,” Marley said jokingly.

“Give me another one.”

“I’d eat you for breakfast.”

“Still banging strangers in public bathrooms?”

Marley guffawed. “You bet,” he said.

“Dirty, dirty bastard.” Phil laughed. Their frivolity made Autumn happy. Whatever was happening between Larry Ross and Marley, there was clearly no animosity between him and Phil.

While Bowie, Marley and Larry conferred in a corner, the cast regaled Autumn with tales of Bowie’s theatre work, delighting in one particular story in which he’d been forced to perform because the lead actor and understudy had both fallen ill just before the curtain was about to go up on a performance.

“Half of us went down with it — it was the chicken kebabs they served at lunch, we think,” Phil said. “But Bowie, the vegan, hadn’t had any chicken. He was the only one who knew it off by heart and had the talent to perform it. He hated every fuckingminute. Anyone who knew him well enough could see it written all over his face. He’s so fucking fabulous, but he’s so damn shy.”

Phil was right. Autumn had no idea how Bowie had managed to become so successful in an industry that favoured extroverts and the unashamedly eccentric. Her lover was quiet and bashful — a private and contemplative man, even when around those he loved the most. When they ate together as a family, Marley, Bluebell, Pip and Emma dominated the conversation. Bowie, Ben and Maddie would listen attentively, involving themselves only if they were addressed directly.

“We still wind him up about it,” said the blonde with the perfect high ponytail as she bit her nails. They were the first words she’d spoken to Autumn directly, and Autumn knew what that meant. This woman — Clara — seemed unnecessarily self-conscious, but curious, too. Experience and intuition told Autumn that Clara didn’t know how to behave around her. She had almost certainly been involved with Bowie before. Autumn made an extra effort to be friendly towards her, laughing a little louder than she usually would. She couldn’t care less if the woman had slept with her boyfriend some time in the past. It was over now. Autumn was invadingherenvironment, if anything, and there was no need for Clara to feel awkward around her.

Hannah — a tall, pretty actress with a short dark bob — did not share Autumn’s desire to avoid drama stoked by times gone by. Someone mentioned Marley next and Hannah burst into noisy tears.

“I can’t believe he had the gall to turn up when he knew I’d be here,” she said between sobs. Autumn eyeballed Phil for an explanation.

“He broke her heart three years ago.” He turned to Hannah. “Are you sure he knew you were here?” he asked with kindness. Hannah nodded.

“We had phone sex three weeks ago and I told him I got the gig.”

Phil rolled his eyes.

“She’s a glutton for punishment,” he muttered. “Marley isn’t boyfriend material. He’s told her. He’s told her over and over again, but she won’t listen. She thinks he’ll change his mind. Look at her, she’s stunning and Marley can’t keep his dick in his pants. They go round in an endless circle of shit.”

Autumn was not surprised. Marley had once told Autumn that he’d never found himself wanting anything from any woman except sexual gratification. Once that had been fulfilled, he tended to lose all interest.

It had been raining that evening and they’d been smoking on the porch together while watching the world darken, dangling their feet over the edge of the ledge and into the rain.

“I always tell them what it is I want,” he’d said. “Or don’t want, as the case may be. I tell them before anything happens. But sometimes they’re adamant I might change my mind, then they blame me when I don’t. It’s almost enough to put you off sex all together.”

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