Page 40 of Hollywood Games
When the last sounds echoed into silence, the room erupted. Zoe, Morag and Fiona were crying and cheering and even Duncan managed a whoop before taking Liam out of the room to prevent him from waking. Sam and Jamie started a little as if they’d forgotten anyone else was there. Jamie blinked several times, and Sam had a look of open-eyed wonderment on her face which she shook off to return to her normal assured self.
Morag got out of her seat and hugged them both to her. ‘Oh my, that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard!’
Zoe and Fiona blew their noses loudly. ‘Please can I film it? Please!’ cried Zoe.
‘Yes! Film it!’ said Fiona.
Morag disengaged herself from Sam and Jamie and took several tissues out of a box. ‘You must film it, Zoe love, we might never get to hear that again.’
Jamie looked at Sam, his eyebrows raised in a question. She smiled at him and nodded.
‘Okay,’ said Jamie. ‘Please ensure all noses are blown before the performance commences.’
Fiona moved out of her chair next to Jamie and Sam sat in it, their bodies angled towards each other. Zoe brought out her phone and started filming. The second performance had less innocent hesitancy, but more than made up for it in confidence and polish. The air was filled with sonic light. Unseen vibrations resonated through everyone, electrifying their bodies and connecting their souls to a universal truth. Sam and Jamie sang as one, a vessel through which heaven flowed out into the earth. When the song finished, Zoe felt like the world had changed. She hadn’t known Sam could sing like that, or that two people could create such a sound with their voices. Sam had always been confident and cocky, but now she seemed softer, more vulnerable. Jamie was putting his guitar away, looking anywhere but at Sam.
If Zoe was havinga wonderful time at Morag’s, Rory was in the seventh circle of hell courtesy of Kirsten. Had she put a tracking device on him? Wherever he went, she turned up. First, she wanted to ‘thank him personally’ for her guava, and invite him to share it with her. After that invitation was declined, she wanted him to give her a tour of the castle to help her get into character. Before he knew it she was attached, limpet-like, to his arm as he dragged her around trying to get it over and done with as quickly as possible, checking his phone constantly, waiting for a message from Zoe that would save him.
Kirsten was obsessed with ghosts and her multiple past lives and wanted to know how every one of Rory’s ancestors had died and where. Rory either didn’t know or didn’t care, had never seen a ghost in his life and lacked Zoe’s creativity in the ‘making shit up’ department. At random moments, Kirsten would press herself closer to him, shrinking from invisible spirits, or wave her free hand in the air as if trying to waft away demons. Finally, Rory’s phone pinged with a message.
‘Apologies, Miss Bjorkstrom, but we must finish our tour here. I have to go,’ he said, attempting to disengage her arm from his.
She pouted. ‘But we’re only halfway through.’
‘I’m afraid I am needed elsewhere.’
Kirsten shivered and looked at him with puppy dog eyes. ‘Please, will you help me with one itty bitty little thing? I’m so cold and I can’t get the fire to work in my room. Please could you show me how?’
Rory gritted his teeth, gave a small nod and swung her around in the direction of her room. As Kirsten unlocked the door, Rory felt like he was entering the earth’s core. As well as every available light left on, the radiator and an extra fan heater were also running. His stomach knotted as he imagined the electricity bill rising exponentially, until he remembered with a silent prayer of thanks that Zoe had put into the contract the production company would be paying for it. Kirsten locked the door behind them and walked towards the fireplace, taking off her voluminous coat and tossing it onto the floor. She turned to Rory, and lifted her arms up, running her fingers through her blonde hair.
‘It’s so cold in Scotland, I just can’t get warm,’ she mewed feebly. Rory kept his gaze away from her braless breasts pushing against the thin cream fabric of her dress. ‘Can you help light my fire?’ A thin trickle of sweat ran down his back. The room was already unbearably hot and the heat was amplified by the annoyance flushing through him. He turned his attention to the fireplace.
‘You should have been shown this in the fire safety briefing,’ he said gruffly, kneeling down and twisting sheets of newspaper into spirals.
Kirsten knelt next to him so their bodies were touching. ‘I think I was,’ she said, chewing on her lip, her head to one side. ‘But with all the lines I have to learn, and preparing for the earth meal, it’s just been too much to take in.’
Rory grunted noncommittally and chucked kindling on top of the paper. He lit one of the scrolls. The fire caught quickly and he fed it larger sticks.
‘Once it gets going, put the logs on, but angle them like this to keep the flow of air underneath. And always have the fireguard in front. Remember there is a fire extinguisher in every room.’ He stood, and walked to the door, unlocking it.
‘Thank you, my lord, see you tomorrow,’ Kirsten said, licking her lips.
Rory nodded and made his escape.
Walkingout the back door of the castle, the cold air hit his face like a soothing balm of Scottish reality. The end of the shoot couldn’t come soon enough. He was grateful for the money and the publicity, but it was like aliens had descended from the skies and made themselves at home. He decided to take the long way back to Morag’s, and pop into the pub to see Clive. He wanted to find out how the arrival of the film crew was affecting the rest of the village.
He stopped outside and looked through the window. There, sitting at the bar, in old Jock’s chair, sat Vlad, an empty pint glass beside him, and Kayleigh’s hand in his. She was leaning across the bar, gazing at him with rapt attention, as he ran his thumb over her palm. Rory itched to punch him. He strode forward, just as Clive appeared behind his daughter to steer her away. Rory turned and set off for Morag’s. He would see Clive tomorrow. It wouldn’t be good publicity to thump one of the honoured guests when the filming hadn’t even started. All he wanted now was to get Zoe and escape with her back to the cabin.
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21
The next morning Rory and Zoe left the cabin before sunrise, Rory grimly determined to make the best of the day, Zoe hungover and half asleep. Fog lay low over the road, and Rory crept along, following the hazy red tail lights of a film equipment lorry arriving early from Edinburgh. Snuggled in her winter coat, Zoe let her head rest back, hoping a ten-minute snooze might take the edge off her tiredness. She was easing into a delicious sleep state, where daydreams become surreal, when she heard Rory talking.
‘That’s not going to work.’
Their truck come to a stop and she heard the beeping of a reversing vehicle. She opened her eyes to see Rory getting out and running up the street to where the lorry was trying unsuccessfully to negotiate a tight corner on the way to the castle. The driver had managed to get the cab around the corner, but as he put his foot down, the rest of the vehicle careered into the side of a house, dislodging the cornerstones and getting wedged under the eaves.
Zoe was now moving, adrenaline shooting through her more effectively than caffeine. Rory banged on the lorry driver’s door. He turned to her. ‘Ring the police and fire brigade now and run to Morag’s. It’s Mrs McCreedie’s house and I need to get her out and somewhere warm.’
