well. Not even you, Willow.’
Merritt and Willow turned to look at where he had paused the shot. Merritt was holding her and she was looking up at him, the moment before they kissed.
They left Harold’s trailer in silence, Harold’s observations hanging heavily between them. It’s too soon to be in love, thought Willow.
Harold’s crazy, thought Merritt as they walked beside each other. ‘I have to go now,’ said Willow as they arrived at the set in the garden for the afternoon shoot.
‘OK,’ said Merritt, his hands in his pockets.
‘Are you OK with that about Harold? He’s a bit crazy I think,’ said Willow, putting her hand up over her eyes to shield them from the sun.
‘I gathered that,’ said Merritt. ‘I’m fine. My one and only chance to be a movie star.’ He laughed and Willow joined in, although she felt absurdly sad and she didn’t know why.
‘OK, bye then,’ she said, and she walked away.
Merritt watched her leave, and it felt like one of them had just told a lie. The only thing was he wasn’t sure who had told it.
Willow worked late, and when she returned to the house she was tired, grumpy and happy to see that Kitty had put the children to bed, and then filled with guilt that she felt that way.
There was no sign of Merritt. He was probably scared shitless after Harold’s proclamations of their love today, she thought as she climbed the stairs wanting a bath. She was just deciding she was too tired to be bothered to run one when she saw a note taped to her door.
Evening,
I have run you a hot bath. I am available for a back rub and other entertainment either before or after should you require it. Please send me a note under my door if you need anything.
Love Merritt
Willow smiled. He must have written this hours ago, she thought, not realising she would be held back for so long. She took the note off the door and went to drain the cold water from the bath, in case Poppy went to use the bathroom in the night.
Opening the door, she was met with candlelight and the scent of mimosa. The water in the old claw-foot tub was steaming and a soft fluffy towel that Willow hadn’t seen before was folded on the chair at the end of the bath.
Undressing, she slipped into the warm water and felt her muscles relaxing almost immediately. As she sank under the water, she tried to think about the last time someone had done something for her where she didn’t have to ask and pay for the duty. It was the single kindest thing that anyone had done for her in so long that she felt like crying, but she was too tired. Staying in the silky water till her fingers were pruned, eventually Willow got out, dried herself and put on the soft cashmere robe that she had brought with her from London.
When she walked into her room, still clutching the note, she saw that Merritt had closed the curtains, turned on her nightlight and turned down the bed. The room was warm and cosy, with a small vase of pale yellow tea roses by the bed, clumsily arranged. Willow felt a lump in her throat. What a tragic figure she was that a mere bunch of roses could reduce her to a puddle of tears.
She sat on the bed holding his note, thinking of Merritt writing it, fussing around the house, picking the flowers and choosing a vase. She quickly stood up, turned the note over and wrote a reply in her quick writing. She paused, then she signed her name, crept out into the dark hallway and slipped it under Merritt’s door.
Merritt had heard Willow come upstairs but stayed away. He knew he would have liked to be left alone when he was tired and so he didn’t want to harangue her, even though he would have loved to see her again. When he heard her enter her room and shut her bedroom door, he was disappointed not to have her company but hopeful she was feeling better. She looked tired and seemed to be losing more weight as filming went on.
Merritt stood and started to undress for bed when he saw the note slip into his room under the door on the floorboards. He almost ran over to it and scanned it quickly.
Bath was perfect. Bedroom cosy but lonely. Take some time to smell the roses