Page 56 of Just for December

‘Pleasing use ofwinkel, though,’ Evie notes.

Magda laughs. It’s so wonderful, having her best friend here. Evie knows she could stand to loosen up a little, and Magda makes it easier to give in to enjoying it all. She feels less angry with the world when her friend is around. She’s still on her guard, but less so.

They’re walking to set. Evie’s social media manager has asked her to get some images of what it’s like behind the scenes, so they can post about it on her account when the movie is out next year. She asked if Evie might even consideractually beinginthe photos, too, since, considering the international press her fauxmance with Duke has had, her stance of total anonymity has evidently wavered. They haven’t had a fake date in a while, actually, although Evie has a feeling that with the directorial changes she might be called upon as a distraction technique again. She doesn’t mind. Between this and his mom, Duke has had a lot on his plate. She’ll welcome the excuse for some one-on-one, whatever the circumstance. And hehassuggested more kissing might be involved, which isn’t a terrible thought …

‘So…’ Magda begins, and it’s inthatvoice. They walk through the city, having turned down the offer of a private car, taking in today’s dark sky, threatening snow again, and the contrast with the twinkling white lights and red ribbons that festoon almost every single building. It’s a chocolate-box city, perfectly picturesque.

‘Oh God, what?’ Evie groans, passing a roasted chestnut stand, a woman in fingerless gloves pushing them around a huge smoking pan, a smile on her face.

‘Well, look, I know we talked about not feeling worthy yesterday, and honestly, I am so honoured you’d share that with me because in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never actually articulated yourself that way. That was the most openly I’ve heard you talk about your dad, ever.’

Evie feels her tummy contract and her throat get hot. Where is this going?

‘Am I about to be punished for that …?’ Evie says, and she’s only half-joking. The other half is dead serious.

‘Nooo,’ Magda says, tutting. ‘But I did just want to keep that conversation going? If you’re open to it?’ Evie doesn’tsay anything, and Magda apparently takes this as permission to continue. She takes a breath, and the seriousness of it makes Evie furrow her brow. Everything seems less pretty now. But somehow sheismore open to this conversation, more open than, as Magda said, she’s been in years. The thought of Duke’s face floats into her imagination. Odd.

‘Because I couldn’t help but notice that after that salesgirl noticed you, you spent a lot of money. And look, I don’t know yourexactsituation, but I am your friend, and I do know when something isn’t right.’

Evie would rather talk about her heart than her bank balance out loud.

‘I was treating myself,’ Evie says, waving a hand.

‘And that’s totally allowed,’ Magda replies. ‘Obviously. It’s just … it wasn’t a small amount of money. And I know you say about it being so expensive for your mom’s care, and you’ve always kind of skirted around the issue when your credit card has bounced or whatever. So I’m only thinking that … you know … if you’re good for cash, why does the card bounce?’

‘I keep the limit small,’ Evie says. ‘So I don’t get in trouble. So small that sometimes it gets maxed out. But rather that than have a big limit and overspend because of it.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Magda muses. Evie starts to think that that’s the last of it, when her friend adds: ‘You said something about being able to pay for all your mom’s care without worrying because of the new foreign rights deals, too?’

‘Nursing homes are expensive!’ Evie says, defensively. ‘The good ones, anyway.’

Magda makes that noise again. ‘Uh-huh.’

‘I’m fine,’ Evie says, when she realises Magda isn’t following up with anything. ‘Money comes in, money goes out. I write two books a year, Magda. I don’t travel much, or even go out very often, but I do buy nice cashmere to do my work in, and nice candles to burn as I do it. I think I deserve that much.’

‘Totally.’ Magda nods, and they’re near to set, now. Evie doesn’t want to be talking about this with everyone else around. Evie doesn’t want to be talking about this at all. ‘But I want you to know – staying in your room, I’ve seen the other shopping bags, and I’ve seen the clothes in your wardrobe with all the tags still on.’

Evie tries to protest, but Magda won’t let her interrupt.

‘And I’ve seen the same at home, too. When I’ve stayed over. I’ve never pried, but when you’ve told me to help myself to a sweater when we’re watching TV or whatever. I’m just not stupid is the thing. It’d be a worse thing if I didn’t ask you about it. People would kill for the paycheques you get – I know you’re not a millionaire, but it’s clear from those phone calls you’ve been having that paying your mom’s fees shouldn’t be the struggle you say it is …’

‘Magda,’ Evie warns, colour rising to her cheeks, her breath shallow. ‘That’s enough.’

‘But—’ Magda starts, but Evie holds up a hand.

‘I said, that’s enough.’

The women walk in silence through set, past the trailers to where everyone is working on a scene where Hermione and George have an argument that starts out playful, but quickly gets serious and threatens how they can move forward. Eviecan see Daphne and Duke stood side by side, pointing at something on a monitor, deep in conversation.

‘Can you get me doing a thumbs up with them in the background?’ Evie asks Magda, trying to move on from the heated exchange they have just had.

‘Sure,’ Magda says, holding out a hand for Evie’s phone. Before the new directing team call action, Evie is photographed in a series of shots: she pretends to look through one of the cameras, holds the clapper board and, as Katerina passes, corrals her into posing too. They take a fun few as mirror selfies in the make-up trailer with Kayla as well, and then Evie’s reminder alert goes off, and it’s time for her to go and collect Duke’s mom.

‘I’ll see you later?’ Evie says to Magda. ‘At the hotel?’

Magda says yes, of course, and that she’s sorry. Evie doesn’t reply. She doesn’t want to say it’s okay, and she doesn’t want to say she’s sorry too, because both those things threaten to pop the lid off the can of worms and that’s not what she wants. But also, she’s tired of hating herself so much that she won’t even let herself accrue savings. It could be a relief to tell Magda. Maybe Magda will understand. Maybe Magda can help.

‘Hey – are you Duke’s mom?’ Evie says, approaching a neat-looking woman in a sleek wool coat and surprisingly youthful black leather boots. The woman looks up.

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