a good soul, but his never-ending cheerfulness, garrulousness, and terrible impressions of celebrities were a bit too much to bear at this hour of the morning.
Tony drained his coffee cup, picked the screenplay out of the rack, and surveyed the title page: My Long-Lost Irish Daddy by Kaye and Joe Kerrigan. With a God-awful title like that, was it any wonder it hadn’t been taken seriously by the professionals?
Right, he’d take the thing with him and read through it on the way to Heathrow; that way maybe noisy Malcolm would lay off the Tom Jones impersonations and leave him in peace. He zipped it into his hand luggage and paused in the hallway, wondering whether to knock on Ellie’s door. Should he wake her up to say goodbye?
Sanity prevailed. It was six o’clock. In the months following Jamie’s death, Ellie had suffered terribly from insomnia, not to mention the dreaded waking up at four in the morning and not being able to get back to sleep again. Her sleeping routine was only now returning to normal.
To disturb her would be an act of cruelty.
He’d just go.
***
Another weekend, another Saturday out with Todd, another awkward moment at the end of it.
And three—three!—kisses this time; one when he’d arrived at the flat, another while they’d been walking through Regent’s Park, and now this, the goodbye one on her doorstep at the end of the evening.
Ellie did her best to make her muscles go loose. She’d been trying to just let herself relax into it, but it still felt weird. Her whole body was uncomfortable. Worst of all, she was now unable to banish from her mind the idea that Jamie was up there somewhere, looking down at them, watching her, and finding her ineptness and lack of engagement hilarious.
It was all so off-putting. No wonder she couldn’t concentrate.
‘I’ve had a really good time.’ Todd stroked the side of her face, smoothing back a stray strand of hair.
‘Mm, me too.’
‘Sure?’ Jamie’s voice was in her head, as clear as anything. ‘Because you never used to kiss me like that.’
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
‘If you’ve forgotten how to do it,’ Jamie added helpfully, ‘maybe you should sign up for evening classes.’
For crying out loud, was it any wonder she couldn’t relax?
Todd was still doing the smoothing thing with her hair. ‘Are you OK?’
Could he stop doing it now? ‘Yes, fine. Just a bit tired, that’s all.’
‘Oh dear, oh dear.’ Jamie tutted with amusement. ‘Now that’s definitely not true.’
‘Sorry.’ She could tell from his expression that he knew what she was saying. Basically, if he’d been entertaining hopes of staying over, it wasn’t going to happen. Again.
‘No problem.’ As before, Todd hid his disappointment well. ‘You have a good night’s sleep.’ He gave her a final hug. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow. And don’t forget about Mum’s barbecue, whatever you do.’
Ellie suppressed another qualm. Her very first invitation to a social event as Todd’s girlfriend. It was his mum’s sixtieth birthday the week after next. On that Wednesday they were having a big old party at home with a barbecue, dancing in the back garden, and friends and relatives from all over to celebrate the occasion. When Todd had broken the news to his mother that he and Ellie were an item, Maria Howard had evidently clapped her hands in delight and cried, ‘Oh, how wonderful. I’m so happy for the two of you!’
So that was it; in eleven days’ time Ellie would be introduced to everyone and officially welcomed into the family. What’s more, there was nothing to be nervous about because she had it on good authority that they were all lovely people and looking forward to meeting her.
‘A week on Wednesday.’ She nodded and smiled reassuringly at Todd. ‘I’ll write it on my calendar. I won’t forget.’
‘I can’t wait for you to meet everyone. It’s going to be great.’ Todd gave her one last kiss on the mouth.
‘Mwah.’ Oh well, she liked parties and she liked people. Maybe actually being introduced as Todd’s girlfriend would make it feel a bit more… real.
Chapter 24
‘What’s this? I didn’t send you this.’ Tony’s agent had called by the house in Beverly Hills to get a sheaf of contracts signed and show off his fresh-from-the-showroom lime-green Ferrari. As long as it ‘pulled the chicks’—Marvin’s own excruciating words—it didn’t bother him that the color clashed with his brick-red face. Now, out on the shaded terrace, he homed in on