Page 91 of Doc Hollywood

With a loud groan, she answered the phone. “Hi, mum.”

“Hi, darling. How are you?” Her mum always asked her, but usually didn’t pay much attention to the answer before she would tell Clara why she was phoning.

“I’m fine, Mum. What about you?” Clara began to count down in her head, and there would be Jack news in three, two, one and—

“I saw an article about Jack today. It was in Hello magazine. He’s such a success. I still don’t understand why things didn’t work out between you.” Her mum repeated a lament that she had used many, many times before.

“Mum, I’ve told you. We grew apart.” Clara had told her mum that Jack had split up with her. Her mum had told her to make up with him and apologise for whatever she had done to cause the breakup.

Sometimes, she wished she had shown her mum the bruises and cuts that Jack had inflicted on her and could get it through to her that she didn’t want to hear about him and she didn’t want to ever see him again. But like clockwork, she got a call about another simpering article containing her ex.

“He’s just been so successful since he moved his work out of the hospital. Maybe you concentrated on the wrong thing. If you hadn’t been so driven, you might be married to Jack by now, maybe with your own child,” her mum continued as if Clara hadn’t spoken.

“Mum. It wasn’t working out,” Clara said forcefully.

“Yes, I know, but he’s done so well.”

Clara finally snapped, “Mum, he married a billionaire’s daughter. Of course, he’s doing well. All that crap in the magazine isn’t a true reflection of his success.”

“Jealousy is such an unattractive trait,” her mum chided.

“Mum,” Clara said sadly.

She wished she had a parent she could confide in, but her dad didn’t talk to her apart from checking if she needed any DIY done in her house, which she would admit was very useful but didn’t help with her fragile emotional state.

She sighed deeply in resignation; it was easier to agree than keep on arguing. “I’ll have a look at the article.”

“I’ll have to ring his mother. She must be so proud of him. Such a good boy. Such a shame about you two.”

Clara barely listened after that as her mum prattled on and on until she finally finished talking, and they hung up. She slumped into her seat and stared at the wall.

CHAPTER 25

Clara had assumed that Taylor would get bored of her, that he would soon begin to get slower at answering her texts or not call her quite so often, and she was prepared for it. But every day, he texted her good morning, and multiple times throughout the day he would send her messages about anything from which actor was throwing a tantrum on set, to memes, to ridiculous selfies of himself.

In return, Clara would send him the same photo, a selfie of herself sitting in the operating theatre in front of the anaesthetic machine. The only thing that changed was the hat she wore.

She half thought it would make him realise how mundane her life was compared to his and ensure the end of their relationship, well, it wasn’t even a relationship, their friendship? No, that didn’t sound right to Clara either; she had never had a friend like this—someone who seemed to be as excited to talk to her as she was to them.

Each message she received from him made her fall for him a little bit more, and each time they FaceTimed, she spent the whole time grinning, no matter how awful her day had been.And she allowed herself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was real for him too.

As usual, when Clara’s phone beeped, she snatched it up, keen to see if it was Taylor.

‘The date of the premiere has been set.’

Clara stared at Taylor’s text, and her heart fluttered; that would mean he wouldn’t have to date Devon much longer. And maybe, just maybe—. She cut that line of thought off. He had already told her that he had work lined up for the next twelve months, and whatever he promised her, he wasn’t going to come to her town and take her on a date.

She needed to move on with her life, get over him, and try to meet someone who was attainable.

Staring down at her phone, she opened the dating app she had downloaded and began to scroll through the single men in her area. It was hard as every few seconds, she had the urge to open her text messages instead and read everything Taylor had sent her.

Clara squinted harder at the photo of the man on her screen. His profile said he was thirty-eight, although he looked like he had turned thirty-eight over twenty years ago. His hair was a shock of white, his wrinkles were so deep that his eyes were hard to see, and his broad smile showed a distinct lack of teeth.

She scrolled to the next photo; this one looked alright, average looking, with a friendly smile. Then she read his profile, which stated he had only just got out of prison after twenty years inside. No wonder his skin looked so good; minimal sun exposure.

Scrolling again and again, she dismissed man after man until she sighed with frustration, deleted the stupid app that she should never have downloaded in the first place and threw her phone across her sofa in disgust.

When another text arrived, she debated not looking, but she desperately wanted to talk to Taylor, so she shuffled over and grabbed her phone. Sighing with disappointment when she saw it was Damien Atrosky.

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