Chapter 38

It was late when Josie got home and she was exhausted after such a long day. Emily briefly looked up from her laptop and asked how the day had been. After an unenthusiastic reply from Josie, Emily disappeared into her bedroom, saying she needed to get a bit more writing done before bed.

Josie sat on the couch and slipped her aching feet out of her shoes. She checked the time. Just before 10 p.m. A little late to start making phone calls, but Sam would still be up. An image of him relaxing on his couch came to mind, and then she thought about the last time she was on his couch. The tightness in her chest returned. She wanted to be there with him.

The phone rang for a while before he answered. Josie’s heart was hammering so hard, she wasn’t sure she could talk.

“Everything okay?” he asked wearily.

“Yeah,” she said, finally finding her voice. “How are you?”

He sighed impatiently. “Fine.”

“Good.” She got the definite impression he didn’t want to talk to her, but she pressed on regardless. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yep.” He paused. “Were you calling for something in particular?”

“No. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

He didn’t reply, and in other circumstances she’d have made a joke about the irony.

“I started work today,” she said, desperate to fill the silence. “You should see the stupid shoes I have to wear …”

“I don’t really have time to talk now,” he said, speaking over her. His voice was so cold she barely recognised it. “I have to go.”

“Wait,” she said, sure he was about to hang up. She didn’t know what to say, though. “When will you have time to talk to me? Are you going to stay angry at me forever?”

“I’m not angry,” he snapped. “We want different things.”

Tears stung her eyes and she felt herself losing control of her emotions. “Can you stop being so stubborn and pig-headed? We can still work things out.”

He went quiet again. “I don’t want to argue with you, Josie.”

“Just talk to me then.”

“We can’t keep having the same conversation. I’m going to hang up now.”

“No!” she said through a sob. “I miss you.”

For a moment she could hear him breathing and hugged the phone to her cheek.

His voice was soft. “Take care, Josie.”

Silence.

She wanted to call him back and scream down the phone at him. Or get in the car and go and shout at him in person. How could he be so cold? And how had they gone from things being so perfect to so awful in a matter of weeks? She was absolutely furious with him. And heartbroken at the same time.

She gripped the phone tightly, resisting the urge to throw it at the wall. Instead, she lay down and sobbed quietly into her pillow.

 

***

 

“You’re not making my job easy,” Kate, the make-up artist, said as Josie took a seat at her station the next morning. She’d barely slept and felt awful. If she made it through the day without bursting into tears it’d be a major achievement. Thank goodness she had a make-up artist to make her look human.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Kate said. “What happened? Did you break up with your boyfriend or something? You look like you’ve been up all night crying.”

“I have,” Josie said flatly.

Kate rolled her eyes and got to work. When Josie walked into the holding room, the gaggle of young girls were huddled in a corner laughing loudly. They were always bloody laughing. What exactly were they so happy about? They’d probably all spend the next couple of hours in the bland holding room, waiting to be called onto set. How was that fun?

There were several groups of people dotted around, and Josie wondered whether she’d feel better if she got to know some people. She recognised one or two people from filming the pilot but it was a long time ago now, and she’d really only had eyes for Jack back then.

After scanning the room, Josie decided she couldn’t face being sociable and sat alone once again.

Staring miserably into her coffee, she replayed the conversation with Sam. It was hard to believe things really were over. She blinked away tears. Her emotions were all over the place. She felt so terrible for leaving, and part of her wanted to go back and grovel and get everything back to how it was a month ago. But another part of her was angry with Sam. He was being unreasonable. It was a side of him that she wouldn’t have believed existed. Maybe she hadn’t really known him very well at all.

There was some bustle as a group of guys dressed as soldiers came into the room. She smiled when a couple of them asked if they could sit with her, and she managed to make polite conversation before she was called onto set. They were filming more quiet scenes at the bar before shooting scenes with the room full of soldiers. It should be slightly livelier than the previous day.

After an hour, her feet were killing her, and she was well and truly fed up. When the director called “cut”, she kicked her shoes off and enjoyed the feel of the cold floor on her aching feet. The director called for quiet and she didn’t have time to put her shoes back on so she stood on her tiptoes as he shouted “action” and hoped no one would notice. Typical – it was a long scene and she gradually got shorter. She was fairly sure she wasn’t in shot, anyway. Cleaning glasses was getting tedious. At the back of the bar, she straightened the bottles of spirits and wiped down the counter. God, it was boring. Her mind drifted to Oakbrook and she remembered all the good times.

Recently, the images of Sam in her head were all negative, but suddenly she could see him laughing so clearly that it was a struggle not to cry. She missed him so much.

As she straightened a bottle of vodka, she caught sight of herself in the mirrored wall behind the bottles of alcohol. She moved the vodka aside. The person in the mirror didn’t look anything like her. There was so much make-up.

Without much thought, she reached for a glass and poured a shot of vodka. With her back to the room, surely no one would notice. She winced as it burned her throat. What on earth was she doing? Drinking on set was surely a sackable offence. No one noticed, though, and she realised the thought of getting fired really didn’t bother her at all. She wouldn’t have to wear the stupid shoes any more.

The set got busy as a crowd of soldiers filed in. It was probably going to be a long afternoon.

“You need your shoes on,” the assistant director told her. “You shrank three inches in that last scene. Good job you weren’t in shot.”

“My legs are hidden by the bar. Does it really matter what shoes I wear?”

“Yep! It does.” The walkie-talkie on her belt crackled, and she muttered something into it before turning back to Josie. “Put them on, please.”

“My feet are killing me. I’ve got about ten blisters.”

“I’ll get you some plasters. But keep the shoes on.”

She spoke into her walkie-talkie as she walked away, and at the end of the next scene one of the runners appeared with a handful of plasters for Josie. They helped a bit but she really couldn’t wait to get out of the shoes.

When the director called “cut” the next time, a cocky voice behind her asked for a drink. She grinned automatically but couldn’t quite believe her ears. When she turned to face Jack, she almost cried tears of joy.

“I have never been so happy to see you!” She hugged him tightly across the bar. “What are you doing here?”

“My duty to queen and country,” he said, looking at his uniform with mock pride.

“I didn’t think you wanted to take the job again.”

“It’s just a week. They need a crowd for the scenes on location. I thought it might be fun so I took a week’s holiday from work. The money’s decent enough.”

“That’s great. It’s so good to see you.”

“I told you the job would get better!”

“That’s what you meant?” she said, chuckling.

“You’re really not enjoying it?” he asked.

“My feet are killing me and I’ve taken to sneaking shots of vodka … so no, I’m not enjoying it.”

“Feel free to sneak me shots,” he said, then looked serious. “What about lover boy? Did you call him?”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “He doesn’t want to know.”

Jack muttered something derogatory and then the director called for quiet. They moved into action for the scene, and as soon as the director shouted “cut” she turned back to Jack.

“Do you want to get a drink later?” she said. “In an actual bar!”

He grimaced. “I’ve got a date.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That’s not weird, is it? I’m allowed to date. You did dump me!”

“Of course you’re allowed to date.”

“Are you gonna get all depressed that your ex-boyfriend’s dating while you’re miserable?”

“No,” she said, amused. “Who is she?”

“Her name’s Lauren. If you spot a female soldier in here, there’s a fifty percent chance it’s her.”

“She’s here?” Josie asked, scanning the room.

“Yeah. The one staring at us,” he said with a boyish smile. “I just met her earlier.”

“Oh my God! No wonder you like this job.”

“I know. Crazy, huh? We just got chatting and she asked me to go for dinner later. I can have a drink with you tomorrow night? I don’t like to think of you crying yourself to sleep over a guy.”

She’d have laughed if it hadn’t been an accurate assessment of her evenings. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over it.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Jack said.

“Shut up or you’ll make me cry again!”

They were interrupted by the director calling instructions. In the scene, the crowd of soldiers were drinking and getting more and more boisterous in the lead-up to a punch-up between two of the main characters. Josie had her back to the action most of the time, only turning when the fight broke out. It was all hidden from her view by the crowd anyway.

“Maybe you’ll get some lines eventually,” Jack said at the next interlude. She obviously looked as bored as she felt.

“I hope so.” After everything she’d left behind at Oakbrook, she really needed something good to come of her new job. It was supposed to be a great opportunity, but it had been completely overshadowed by all the negativity with Sam.

“I’ll be glad when we’re out on location,” Jack said. “It should be more interesting.”

“When’s that?”

“Starts tomorrow. Five days of filming in South Downs National Park.”

Josie swore under her breath. “I guess they don’t need a barmaid on location …”

“Hadn’t you already heard?”

“Nope. Nobody mentioned it. What am I going to do for a week?”

She hoped there’d been some mistake, but when she went to sign off on her hours at the end of the day, it was confirmed – she wasn’t needed until the following week. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, she now had a week with no income and far too much time to think.