Marnie doesn’t say anything, just points, her face impassive.
‘Thanks,’ Evie says. ‘Sorry to … intrude.’ She lifts a finger and points between her and her guest, and it’s more indiscreet than interrupting in the first place. Marnie cocks an eyebrow. She still hasn’t spoken.
‘I’m going now,’ Evie says, and finally Marnie tells her: ‘Yes. Goodnight, Evie.’
When she’s shut the door Evie is left in the hotel corridor once again, only this time she knows which door to knock on next.
Brave.
Beautiful.
Badass.
I like you and I’m scared.
She knocks and waits. She can hear his voice and his footsteps as he gets closer to the door. He must look through the peephole, then, because she hears him say, ‘Oh!’ like he’s surprised she’s there. He coughs, and then opens the door.
‘Evie,’ he says, and she swears he sounds happy to see her. He’s happy to see her! Okay, this is good. Great, even.
‘Duke, I …’ she starts, and then she senses a movement behind him and there is Daphne, wearing one of his T-shirts and not much else. They lock eyes.
‘Evie,’ Daphne says, and Evie looks at Duke. He’s fully dressed but looking down she sees he’s barefoot. He’s also got a kind of bedhead thing going on. Urgh.
‘Never mind,’ she says quickly, turning on her heel and heading for the stairs. She practically runs back to her room. Duke and Daphne? Well of course.Of coursethey were always going to get back together. Working together so closely, Brad gone, Evie cast aside like she was always going to be. He can deny it all he wants, but as soon as Evie saw his toes she knows the truth: they’ve been in bed together. Why else would he be sockless in company? It’s a detail she’d put into her own stories, a little feature to prove a point.
Right then. She’s brave, beautiful, and badass. And she’s also somehow relieved to have proved to herself that her first instinct was right: Duke is a fake player, not worthy of her time.
38
Duke
‘Well, I can only imagine what that looked like.’ Duke sighs, looking at the space Evie was just stood in, right before she bolted.
Daphne comes and stands behind him, her face contorted in a way that overeggs the definition ofwhoops.
‘I’ll talk to her?’ she offers. ‘Explain that it’s literally a case of me being a klutz. We’re friends now. She trusts me.’
Duke issues a hollow laugh. ‘I don’t think she trusts anyone,’ he says sadly, dejectedly closing the door. ‘Bugger.’
‘Do you want to go after her? I can keep working on this …’
Duke is torn. He wants to set the record straight, wants to talk to Evie, but he doesn’t even know what he’d say.I’m not sleeping with Daphne, but then what? And there’s so much to do here – with edits to review from the past two days, and today’s rough footage.
‘Seriously,’ she says, putting her hands on his shoulders so he looks her in the eye. ‘Just keep it quick?’
‘Are you sure?’ he asks.
‘Yes!’ she says. ‘Literally we’re only going to get three hours’ sleep as it is, what’s a few more minutes? Crack on, fix it, then get back. Although …’ she adds, shaking her head. ‘Look, I know what me prancing about in your shirt and no trousers looks like, but I’m the least of your worries. You both need to sort yourselves out and say you want to be together. It’s like you’re looking for excuses not to, and I’ve got no idea why.’
Duke opens his mouth to protest, but finds he doesn’t know what he’d protest to, exactly. It’s like a slap around the face.
‘You’re right,’ he says, shaking his head with new understanding. ‘You’re so right! I lost my temper with her the other night, flew off the handle really … but what I didn’t do is just say what my problem was. Like a grown-up. And I think I’m on the edge of something here, some really radical thought, so bear with me, but …’ He’s smiling now, knowing he’s been ridiculous. ‘I think,’ he says, eyes wide, comically so. ‘I’m supposed totalkabout my feelings and trust the other person will receive them and not run away from them.’
‘Duke,’ Daphne says, blinking slowly and shaking her head once again. ‘I’m glad I could be here to hear the penny drop. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I think you’ve just discovered the meaning of Christmas.’
‘Love,’ he affirms, and he’s actually semi-serious now. ‘Is the meaning of Christmas to offer love, without expectation? Am I supposed to offertrustwithout expectation …?’
‘Until proven otherwise,’ Daphne says. ‘Yah. Yousayyou like her, but how is she supposed to believe that if you don’t offer up your whole self, doubts and worries and all? It makes you look like a …’