Page 53 of Love At First Fright

“Settle down, settle down,” her dad said, nudging the door closed behind him.

“I told y’all she was coming, and y’all promised to play it cool.

” Her grizzled dad, notoriously not a man who liked animals unless they were seasoned on his plate or in the farmyard, was talking to these kittens like he was their coach in a little league game. Her heart threatened to explode.

She crouched down, Bee spilling out from her arms to go play-fight with her siblings.

It was apparent just how much smaller she was, her bright ginger coat sticking out in the bunch of black-and-white.

Rosemary heard a deeper, softer yowl from the living room and watched a fully grown cat, a tortoiseshell, walk into the hall to break up their play-fighting when it got too rough.

There was a glimmering sheen around the cat, and her feet padded silently on the floorboards.

“Their mama is still here,” Rosemary said. She crouched down and reached out a hand, the ghost cat coming over and giving her hand a head butt. She couldn’t feel anything but a wisp of momentary cold across her knuckles, like a soft exhale of breath.

“Their mama? Oh.” Her dad looked down at the empty space where Rosemary’s hand was outstretched. “Well, that’s good, she can keep them company while I’m out in the fields.”

Rosemary and her dad didn’t talk about her abilities that much, and he’d only asked her to look for a ghost once.

A couple of weeks after her mama died, her dad had asked her if she’d seen her ghost anywhere. He’d looked almost hopeful, and it had broken a part of her to tell him no. But last year, at Immy and Eric’s wedding, Rosemary had seen her mama again.

On Halloween night, she’d danced around a bonfire with Immy, Dina, and Nour, Dina’s mother.

Each of them had held Babylon candles; they burned bright blue and for a few minutes, they were able to invite one loved one to dance with them around the fire.

The spirits that came to see them weren’t ghosts exactly, as they had already crossed over to whatever lay beyond.

No one else by the bonfire had been able to see them but Rosemary.

She’d seen Dina’s aunties, who both looked like younger versions of Nour.

She’d seen Immy with her grandmother, both of them with the same mischievous expression.

And beside her, conjured back into this plane for a moment, was her mother.

She had looked younger than Rosemary remembered her, her hair long and loose around her shoulders.

There were a million things Rosemary had dreamed about telling her mom again, if she ever got the chance, but in that moment, it had been enough to just be with her, dancing to a song they loved.

She’d felt the warmth of her mother’s hands in hers, the scent of her sweet tea and rose soap in the air, and it was enough.

“I love you, Mama,” she had whispered, just before the candle guttered out.

Her mother’s spirit had smiled, already fading, and for the first time since her death, a piece of Rosemary’s heart stitched back together.

The next time she’d come home to visit, Rosemary had told her dad about that Halloween night.

“That’s nice,” he’d said, looking quietly out of the window. Later that night she’d looked out of her bedroom window and seen him sitting on the ground by the grave, tidying the earth around her.

—

The following day, Rosemary settled down onto the sofa to watch the Theo Drake Show. It was live on television at 9 p.m. in the UK, so it was only midafternoon here.

They’d texted a little before filming, but once he’d arrived at the studio she knew he’d be so busy she wouldn’t hear from him until after the show.

Her dad slumped down onto the sofa beside her, kittens swarming onto their laps and climbing up their legs.

“Fudge?” Rosemary waved a tin that she’d bought from a specialty shop in Foxleigh village. She decided not to tell her dad about the shop’s name, which—thanks to a vandalized “r”—was called The Fudge Pant y.

“Did I ever tell you you’re my favourite daughter?” He chuckled as he pilfered a handful. Rosemary grinned, and flicked to the satellite TV channel that would allow them to watch British shows in real time.

The opening credits of the Theo Drake Show flashed onto screen, accompanied by the theme music, and Rosemary felt her heart jump to her throat.

This was really happening. What would Ellis say?

Would he really announce to the world that they were together?

Once again, she had a feeling that she was on the precipice of one of those Big Life Moments ? and soon there would be no going back.

Good, she wanted Ellis. She wanted to share a life with him.

On TV, Theo Drake welcomed Ellis to the sofa.

He was dressed in a sharp suit, but Rosemary could tell immediately something was wrong.

His skin was pallid in the spotlight’s harsh glare, his walk to the sofa stiff and disjointed.

Had he been sick since she left, perhaps?

He certainly looked it. When he sat down on the sofa he took a long gulp of whiskey, and then he seemed to compose himself, pasting a winning smile on his face.

But Ellis wasn’t fooling Rosemary. Something had happened. A pit opened in her stomach.

“Well, he looks very nice,” her dad said beside her, smiling at the way Rosemary had edged to the front of the sofa.

“Um, yeah, he does,” she replied in a hollow voice. There was no denying that Ellis was magnetic on screen, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Theo Drake asked Ellis a series of questions about his most recent Soldier of Justice film that would soon be arriving on streaming, as well as filming for When the Devil Takes Hold.

So far, nothing out of the ordinary. Ellis had told Rosemary that he liked going on the Theo Drake Show because the questions were never out of order.

So why was Ellis taking a deep gulp from his whiskey glass like he needed the Dutch courage?

And then came the moment, the question that would mean no turning back for either of them.

Theo affected a conspiratorial air. “Now, Ellis, we couldn’t have you on the show without discussing what went down at a little London bookshop called The Reader’s Rest recently, could we?

Please put our audience and viewers at home out of our misery and tell us…

what is the nature of your relationship with the scream queen of horror fiction and the screenwriter of your most recent movie, Rosemary Shaw? ”

Ellis’s skin looked pallid and sweaty under the studio lighting. He didn’t speak, but stared down the barrel of the camera as if he were looking directly at Rosemary.

“Say something,” she whispered at the screen.

A photo appeared behind him and Ellis shifted to look at it: it was of the two of them in the bookshop, holding hands as they escaped the horde of fans.

“Rosemary is a good friend. A colleague. She did an amazing job on the screenplay adaptation of When the Devil Takes Hold, and I attended her book signing because I enjoy…reading her books.”

Rosemary swallowed but her mouth tasted like ash. Her vision tunnelled, blackening at the edges. Tinny laughter from the TV echoed in her skull and nausea clawed up her throat. It wasn’t possible. She must have misheard him.

“Are we meant to believe that you hold all your colleagues’ hands as you walk around on set then?” Theo asked Ellis.

“You’d be surprised, I’m very tactile with my friends,” Ellis said, and smiled at his interviewer, but it was all teeth.

“Why are you lying?” Rosemary said to the screen, but her voice came out as a broken sob.

Ellis shifted in his seat but didn’t look any more comfortable. “As you know, I’m still dating Jenna Dunn.”

She watched his mouth form the words, but they didn’t sink in.

This wasn’t the same man who had built her an office, who had said he’d move across the world to be with her!

It had only been a day and a bit since she’d left England, was she so forgettable?

A rational part of her brain knew that this had Ellis’s agent’s stink all over it, why else would he have said he was still with Jenna?

But she thought he was braver than this, he’d come out to her, and she thought that perhaps he was finally bold enough to stand up for himself against Brody.

Rosemary stood abruptly.

“Sweetpea?” Her dad reached for her hand.

“Give me a minute, Dad.” Tears blinded her as she stumbled out into the backyard. The sunset shouldn’t have been as beautiful as it was, with lily-pink clouds and the trills of hooded warblers and Northern mockingbirds coming from the trees.

She sucked in breath after breath, and almost had to stifle a bitter laugh when she saw Ellis’s face appear on her ringing phone.

She didn’t want to face him, but she had to know. Rosemary picked up.

“Rosemary, please let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like.”

The gravelly tone of his voice, the voice that she loved, dug into her gut. Hot, angry tears pooled at her chin.

“You don’t get to explain, Ellis. You lost that opportunity the moment you announced to the whole fucking world that you’re not with me.”

“I had to. I did it for you,” he said, his voice sounding distant and broken.

“What the fuck does that mean? You did it for me? Am I supposed to thank you? Let me guess. It was Brody, right? Brody told you you had to say those things and so you just had to?”

“Yes.”

“That’s fucking weak, Ellis. And you know it. You let him walk all over you and you couldn’t stand up to him? Not even for me?” Her hands shook.

“He was going to tell everyone,” Ellis said.

“What?”

“At first I thought he was doing the same old blackmail, threatening to tell everyone about my ‘perversions,’ but I told him I didn’t care.

And that’s the truth. You know that I’m bi, so does all my family and everyone who matters to me.

I don’t care if the world knows, Rosemary, that’s what I told Brody. And I fired him.”

Rosemary’s hand was shaking so hard she had to clamp the phone to her ear with her shoulder. “I don’t understand. Why then…?”

“He had footage.” Rosemary’s blood ran cold as she heard Ellis’s words.

“Brody had us followed, that weekend on set when Jenna came for the photo opportunity. I’m such an idiot, I thought I saw a car tailing us, but I figured I was just being paranoid.

He had a video of us, on the hill I think, when you were going down on me.

He said that if I didn’t tell Theo Drake that we were only colleagues, and that I was dating Jenna, he’d release the video.

It would have ruined your career, Rosemary.

I didn’t give a shit about myself, but you?

You’re about to reach a new level of fame for an author, and I didn’t want this to bring you down. ”

“That was not your decision to make, Ellis!” she shouted. “You said you would always tell me these things, that we would talk through them, together. Was it so impossible to try to call me?”

“There wasn’t time. I had to make a decision. I did what was best for you, love.”

“You have no right to decide what’s best for me.”

“Rosemary, it would have been torture; you would have been notorious for all the wrong reasons. Constantly being hounded, photographed, stalked. They would have fucked up your life, and your family. I did what I had to do to protect you. Because I love you.”

Could you feel a heart as it broke? Everything she had wanted to hear, and it was too late.

Even now, a rational part of her brain was agreeing with him.

It did sound like torture, all that focus, all that notoriety and fame for the wrong reasons.

She hated to think that Ellis might be right—what if she couldn’t handle it?

Rosemary knew she wasn’t being rational but the hurt cut too deep to ignore.

Don’t push him away over this, he’s hurting too, a small voice inside her shouted but it was easily drowned out.

She needed space. She needed to breathe.

When Rosemary spoke it was as if she was outside her own body, hearing another in her place.

“No, Ellis. You did it because you’re scared, and ashamed.

That wasn’t for me. I can’t do this, I need space.

Just don’t contact me. Please.” Rosemary hung up.

Angry, hot tears slipped down her cheeks and Rosemary crumpled to the grass and gave into the ache that ripped from her throat in a sob.

She loved him, he loved her. And it was all over.

—

Rosemary awoke sometime later lying on top of her bed, a blanket thrown over her, not knowing how she got there.

Something was tickling her ear. She turned her head, only to be met with the softest, warmest belly of Little Bee, who had curved her tiny body around the side of Rosemary’s head, her little foot pressed against the side of Rosemary’s neck.

On her chest, weightless, the ghost cat was curled into a ball, watching Rosemary with her luminous eyes.

As if she was saying, I’m here, go back to sleep.

Rosemary’s body felt numb. It was too soon to think, she wasn’t ready for that yet.

She let herself fall back to sleep, soothed for a little while by Bee’s gentle breaths.