12
Izzy didn’t realise she’d rested her head on Nick’s shoulder until about the fifth Tube station, but he didn’t seem to mind, so she didn’t move. She was still feeling the ill effects of last night, just a wee bit delicate. She dozed, too, until they had to switch at Tottenham Court Road, at which point she felt the caffeine kick in. She should have got a coffee to go, but they could do that once they got off the Tube. They stood, swaying against each other, all the way to Chalk Farm.
Izzy had been to Primrose Hill enough times that she felt confident enough in where they were going and made a slight diversion to the twenty-four-hour Quik Stop. Nick trailed her, looking a bit lost, while Izzy procured them bottles of water and chocolate bars to go with her coffee.
“Adventure supplies!” she announced while putting in her PIN at the till. Nick bit his lip at that, which was obviously precious and adorable, but didn’t say anything.
Then, they strode down Adelaide Road.
“This isn’t the pretty part,” Izzy told him as she chucked an Aero at him. Nick tore into it immediately. “This is just a means to an end. I kind of like it, though. It’s quiet, you know? Peaceful.”
She watched him munching his Aero and picking bits of chocolate from his enormous scarf. When he’d thrown one small bit over his shoulder, she asked, “So, why England?”
He looked at her surprised, eyes wide behind his glasses, a touch wary. “Well. It’s sort of—” He paused and visibly girded himself. Nat had told her that watching him come out with it could be painful, he was so uncertain, but Izzy liked that about him. He was genuine. Whatever he said was probably true, even if it was couched in so many layers of uncertainty you knew he could hide behind even the truth. “I’ve always loved England.”
Still incredulous over this, she asked, “Why?” She bit into her Snickers.
He laughed and played with his hair. It looked so much better now she’d taken her shears and razor to him. He’d been cute and all, but now he was looking sharper.
“I guess I can’t really explain it. Like … you know when you just are really, really into something, and everything about that thing makes you want to know more? And it takes on a … mythical quality, I guess, where you almost can’t believe it’s real, but it is, and you can go there, if only you had the means, and I suppose I found the means.” He paused, visibly startled at himself.
Izzy was positively giddy at this outpouring.
“I do, I think.” It was true. “I mean, I’ve never thought about it that way, but yeah, I have things like that.” She shook out her scarf and stuffed her half-eaten chocolate bar into the pocket of her jacket. “I have that with film, but that’s different from a place, innit? Can’t really go there, I guess. And it’s never the same as it is on screen, behind the scenes, either.”
“Is that what you’re studying?”
“Is that wanky?” She laughed. “It’s cool, you can say it. Nat always does.”
“No! I think that’s really cool, actually.”
“Well, that’s sweet of you.” They grinned at each other. “Yeah, I’ve just always loved films.” Every time her mum took her to the cinema, like … before, and then whenever she’d gone by herself afterwards, she felt glued to her seat just watching the production logos at the beginning of the film. Everything about films dazzled her. So many people came together to work on films. Not just actors and directors and writers, but somebody had to have designed that logo, and others had to make the set look like a real street instead of a back lot somewhere. “Okay, wank alert again, but you know how I said that it’s not the same behind the scenes? I guess that’s the best part of it for me. Like…” She paused, knowing she was about to drop some serious wankery but comfortable enough to continue anyway. “Have you ever had this feeling like … something is made more special when it’s seen through a lens? Like … I’m not saying it right, but like … when I see something in a film, even if it’s a street corner I see every day, you know—nothing, like, spectacular, but just something that’s highlighted through someone else’s gaze, I guess—it makes it … special. Not even only films necessarily, but even a photograph or something. Is that stupid? That’s stupid, isn’t it?”
“Not at all!” Nick said. He smiled at her. God, he had a pretty smile. If Dex didn’t make a move on him, she might need to, seriously. “That’s exactly what I was saying, I think. Except for me it’s not just a lens, it’s anything. Books. History.”
“And all of it about England?”
“Largely,” he laughed. “But I don’t know why. I’ve always loved All Things European, but England more than anything else.”
“Soggy Ol’ Britain, huh?” She bumped his shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
Nick smiled. “Thanks. Me too.”
+
“Do you want to be an actress?”
They were now in Primrose Hill proper—home to those pretty pastel row houses where all the posh-edgy celebrities lived. Izzy had once actually seen actual Daisy bloody Lowe walking her dog and thought she was going to piss herself.
“God, no,” Izzy spat. “They wouldn’t want me, anyway.”
“Really? Why?”
This boy, seriously. “Not exactly movie star material, am I?” Nick looked genuinely blank-faced, so she did a sweep with her arm over her very non-bog-standard Hollywood body. “Not a size bloody zero, see?”
“Right. Sorry.” Nick blushed. She felt a little bad.
“Nah, it’s not your fault. And whatever, I’ve never wanted to be. Size zero or an actress. Their lives seem shit. I mean, honestly, if I can’t have pain au chocolat and whatnot in the morning, there’s no point to living.”
She’d read enough Hollywood exposés on body crap to last her a lifetime. No thank you very much.
“Nah, I want to direct. Or write. Or both? Both.” She did her best to never actually make a decision or she would doubt it to death. She was sort of low-key hating this conversation, but she didn’t wish to be rude. “You’d think being in my last year at uni I’d know, but whatever.”
“Do you think you’ll get to do it? Direct and write?”
She shrugged, feeling sort of itchy all over. It was one thing to declare, I’m going to do films! at nineteen, it was another to be in your last year of uni, still not knowing what the fuck you were even doing. “Who knows. I’ll try. Start from the bottom and all that. Everyone knows being a woman in the film industry is shit, but what have I got to lose?”
+
“This is why I chose this place.” They made their way to the summit of Primrose Hill. It wasn’t, she admitted, the prettiest it could be at the moment. The grass was dead from winter. Dried into hay from the cold snap they’d recently experienced. When she’d dragged Nat and Steph out in the summer, the grass had been half green, half dead already—and it was too sunny. Which, like, of course. It was Britain. It either pissed down all the time or was so bloody hot even the grass didn’t know what to do about it.
Nick seemed excited as he stood next to her at the top of the hill. They watched the families playing in the park below them, and as she looked at all of London sprawled out beneath them. You couldn’t beat the view.
“Awesome, right?”
Nick was smiling. She gazed out and tried to see London as he was seeing it. He had never been here, which struck her as particularly brave, just dropping everything and flying to an unknown destination. Now he was here, and she hoped it wasn’t a disappointment. She wanted Nick to love London the way he had expected to, wanted him to love it the way she loved it.
She looked for the spires of the BT Tower, the Shard, the Eye, which she could never not say in her head in Cate Blanchett voice. One who has seen … THE EYE!!!! That one was Mum’s fault. She was such a Tolkien geek.
Izzy really did love London. Felixstowe, where she’d grown up, was so close to the sea you could smell it. Izzy had loved the water, but she’d always felt just a little suffocated by the solitude of it, or the sameness of the town, the people. She had never managed to feel inspired there, for all the nature was beautiful. While it was home, it wasn’t where she’d wanted to settle. She’d actually been born in London, because her parents had split up when she was barely a week old and Mum had taken her away from her shithead of a father, so Izzy really did wonder if it had always called back to her. She couldn’t imagine leaving it now.
“We come here for picnics sometimes,” she told Nick. “On special occasions.” She stamped her feet. Standing around had got cold, and she crouched down to sit on the pavement. She patted the spot beside her, and Nick dropped down, too. She’d forgotten to get that coffee, so now they huddled and shivered together in silence, taking in the view and the sunshine and the chatter of the people behind them. It felt nice. Easy. Nick didn’t seem as uptight. He looked positively giddy. Izzy remembered she still had a whole Dairy Milk in her bag. They polished it off in quick order.
“So, what did you say you were doing later today?” Izzy asked as they descended the hill. He hadn’t actually told her, but she had a goal.
Nick looked over at her. “Nothing much.”
“Well, Dex doesn’t have to go into work for once, so we were gonna do a whole proper roast later, with all the proper trimmings, the ways of our people. What’d you reckon, wanna come over? I’d put you to work, mind.”
Nick’s response was immediate. “Yeah.” A smile. “I’d love to.”
Izzy actually clapped and said, “Yaaaaay!”