Page 25

JACKSON

I love my job , I tell myself as I nod seriously at what the director is telling me.

Standing in a semi-circle, I listen carefully as he, Marky, and a pile of other professionals give me instructions for the most exciting stunt I’ve done yet.

My side barely twinges anymore after I spent days being fussed over by Rosie.

The smell of chlorine is thick in the air, despite the towering rigs and bodies surrounding the pool.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a car being lowered into the water.

“Okay, Jackson, we’re going to take you down with Tom, our diver. He’ll give you the O2 until we call action and then you know what to do.”

I nod my head. We’ve spent countless hours on dry land, going through the motions. My character’s car hydroplanes off a bridge and plummets into a raging river, leaving me fighting with the stunt double who’s trying to kill me.

I’ve done underwater, I’ve done fight scenes, I’ve done rigs, but I’ve never done it all at the same time .

We’ve spent the last two days in meetings and rehearsals and safety briefings, but now I’m ready to get in the water.

“Let’s do this,” I say, practically rubbing my hands together with glee.

“Great, let’s get set up.” Sam claps me on the shoulder as we disperse.

I gesture to Eric who’s lingering by the door. “Are you ready?” he asks excitedly.

I grin. “You bet it. Can I see my phone real quick?”

He hands it over and I smile as Rosie’s face shows on the screen. It’s still the selfie she sent me of her with her ice cream and I haven’t changed it since.

I pull up her messages.

ME

Hey pretty girl, I’m just heading underwater so won’t be able to message for a couple hours. Be good x

I keep the phone clenched in my hand until I’m called over and hand it back to Eric. I don’t power it off, so I hope Rosie has the sense not to send anything risque and Eric has the sense to not look at it if she does.

Shaun the 1st AD calls everyone to attention, giving yet another safety briefing. I pay attention the same way I do with the flight attendants on a plane. My heart starts pounding in my chest and I glance at the water.

I slowly lower myself into the pool, my jeans clinging to my lower legs and my shoes filling up with water. Stuart and I slowly swim towards the car rig. Tim hands me the O2 tank, I take a breath and then I go under.

“That’s a wrap, guys,” Shaun calls to a smattering of applause hours later.

Thank fuck. I need to get out of this water and out of these clothes.

I climb out, shoving my hair out of my eyes. I’m exhausted, and I’ve needed to piss for about two hours now.

A costume assistant hands me a robe and I thank her as I head towards Eric.

He looks pale and his hair is mussed, as if he’s run his hands through it often. “What is it?”

Eric hands me my phone with shaking fingers. “I think something’s happened.”

I scroll through the first page, thousands of notifications popping up on the screen. I can barely scan any of them. “What’s happened?” I bark.

“Uh, I uh, I googled it.”

“Googled what?” I ask sharply, as I slide up until I get to Rosie’s name.

“You,” Eric says weakly as I read Rosie’s message.

Rosie

Call me when you can x

“Did Rosie call?” I say, glaring at Eric, dialing her number and holding the phone to my ear.

“Uh,” He nods, his cheeks reddening. “Yeah, but you were underwater.”

I shake my head as the call drops. Maybe she’s got it turned off. What the fuck is going on?

I try again but it rings before I can dial.

“Rosie?” I answer.

“Jackson mate, where have you been?”

“Dan?” I ask, checking the caller ID. “What the hell is going on? ”

An assistant approaches, trying to usher me off set, likely to some dry clothes, but I wave them off as I maneuver closer to the wall.

“God, we’ve been trying to get to you for ages.” Danny says. “You on set?”

“Yeah, ten hours underwater, and messages were not going through.” I glare at Eric who’s standing wringing his hands. “What’s happened?”

“Rosie’s okay, she’s at our place. We’re on our way there now.”

“Is she okay? Why is she at your house?” My heart is pounding in my chest and I can feel dread curling under my skin.

I hear Danny blow out a breath. “Her sister. She posted a video online and she’s been all over the press all day. Calling Rosie a gold digger, basically implying that she seduced you and impregnated herself.”

My heart drops. “What?” I hiss.

“Yeah, she’s a real piece of work. Rosie tried to get home, but there were paps outside the flat. Fucking paps man. I don’t know who this sister is, but she’s obviously got some connections.”

“Fuck me,” I say, wiping my hand over my face. God, Rosie called me and I didn’t answer. She’s had this day from hell and I was pissing about in a swimming pool like an idiot.

I run my hand through my hair, tugging on the damp knots.

“She’s with you now?”

“We’re not with her, but she’s at our house. Hang on.” I hear him pull the phone away from his ear, talking faintly. “How soon can you get there? ”

“A couple hours.” I glance at Eric and usher him over. “Thanks for this Dan, I appreciate you.”

“Of course, mate. And we will be discussing this. Can’t believe you’re having a baby with my wife’s best friend and I don’t even get a text.”

I laugh but the noise gets caught in my throat. “You can shout at me later, after I look my girl in the eyes and see she’s okay.”

“You might get there before us, but Rosie left the door unlocked behind her.”

“Thanks, man.” I hang up as Eric approaches.

“I’m sorry, Mr Harper, I didn’t know how to get you out of the water.”

I wave him off. I know he couldn’t have done it but I can’t help feeling frustrated that he didn’t.

“I need a car within ten minutes. I’ve got to get back to London.”

Eric’s eyes widen. “But your hotel is booked and all your stuff is still there.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Eric,” I snap. “I need to get back now.”

“Is everything alright, Jack?” Shaun approaches.

“I’m going back to London.” I move to step past him but he raises his arms.

“Woah, hold on, what’s the problem?”

“I just need to get back.”

Shaun laughs incredulously. “We need you back on set in ten hours. By the time you make it there you’ll only have four hours of sleep before you need to be back.”

“I won’t be here tomorrow.”

I barely spare them all a glance as I storm past them, desperate to get out of this place. The air is thick with chlorine and my water clogged jeans are starting to chafe. I need to get home to Rosie.

“Can you call a car?” I ask Eric before I jump the metal stairs into my trailer, shaking the frame with the force.

I quickly strip the damp clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the carpeted floor.

I tug on my street clothes before groaning internally, rummaging for a bag and sweeping the clothes inside.

My mother would kill me if she knew I left a wet heap of laundry for someone else to deal with.

She used to make me re-wear my damp rugby socks if I left them on the floor until I learned my lesson.

I swipe my keys and wallet off the side and check my phone for any messages from Rosie. Nothing.

Clenching my jaw, I swing the door open into the cool night air. Thankfully, Eric wordlessly leads me to the car idling in the lot and I offer a genuine thanks as I slide inside the cool exterior. It’s not Eric’s fault I’m here when my life is imploding back home.

I settle into the seat, pulling up Rosie’s name.

Jackson

I’m on my way baby.

The car pulls out of the lot and winds through the country back roads.

I don’t look up from my phone until we start stopping and starting at the traffic in London.

I scan post after post mentioning either of our names.

It’s everywhere. Social media is going crazy and there are more than a few tabloids running the story. Finally, I find the source.

I have never liked Rosie’s sister, but the rage I feel when I see her face on the screen, spewing lies about her sister with sickly sweetness disguised as concern, makes my blood boil.

I lock my phone and take a breath as I try to unclench my jaw .

I know enough from the bits and pieces I’ve gleaned from Rosie to know that her sister is the worst kind of person.

My sisters and I had our arguments growing up, but as soon as we hit our teen years, we started to see each other as cordial roommates.

The older we got, the more we became friends rather than just siblings.

Sure, I occasionally rib them and they do me, but I’ve never been outwardly cruel.

And they’ve never talked to the public about me. Ever.

Slowly, we start to take familiar corners heading to Danny’s house. It’s a tall Georgian townhouse on a quiet residential street, a walled gate high enough for privacy.

I thank the driver as I slide out the car, glancing up and down the street for any lurkers. Empty.

I don’t know who was outside Rosie’s flat, but it’s safe to say they didn’t track her down to here.

Inside, it’s dark. Checking the time on my phone, I figure Danny and Anya aren’t here yet.

“Rosie?” I call out into the darkness.

I peer into the rooms downstairs quickly before toeing off my shoes and climbing up the stairs. I feel like a cat burglar, so I hope Rosie doesn’t leap out at me with a cricket bat.

“Rosie?” I whisper as I peer into each room.

The guest room door is ajar and I push it further in, my heart stopping. There she is, curled on top of the bed with her jeans still on and a human sized pillow clutched in her arm.

The moonlight from the open curtain bathes her in a glow, and I have to lean on the door to prop myself up.

She’s okay. I watch the rise and fall of her chest for a few minutes before tiptoeing into the room.

I gently approach her, brushing the hair back from her face.

She whimpers softly and my heart nearly cracks in two .

“Hey, pretty girl,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Jackson?” she mumbles, turning towards me.

“I’m here, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes closed and voice sluggish.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Rosie. It’s all going to be okay.” I press another kiss to her lips, desperate to be close to her. “Let’s get you in bed.”

She makes a little noise as I flick the button of her jeans and gently tug them off her legs.

She wiggles slightly so I can tug the sheet out from underneath her, pulling it up to her chin.

Her eyes stay closed but I can see the mascara smudged on her cheeks from tears that I wasn’t here to wipe away.

I creep into the bathroom until I find a pack of face wipes. Returning to Rosie’s side, I cup her chin in my hand as I gently wipe away the streaks.

I rise again but her hand grabs my bicep, tugging me forward.

“Stay,” she whispers.

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. Shrugging out of my jeans, I round the bed, climbing in and raising my arm so she can burrow into my side, her leg hooked over mine and the gentle swell of her stomach resting against me.

I curl my arm to gently play with her hair and rest my other on her belly. “I’m right here, pretty girl. I’m not going anywhere.”