Page 20 of Hollywood Crush

“Don’t believe a word you say any more, I replied.”

Tudor turned to me with a mischievous look in his eye and raised one eyebrow. “Not even when I say I’m going to kiss you right here and now?”

“Not even-” I started, but didn’t have time to finish my sentence before Tudor threw himself onto me, Smothering my face with kisses andknocking my glasses askew.

“Ew, gross. I’m all sweaty!” I said.

“Don’t care, Mr Ellison. I do not care at all.” Tudor wiped at my forehead dramatically and leaned in for another kiss. I couldn’t help but smile as I returned the much sweeter, tender kiss. After a second, Tudor pulled away, took my hand in his once more and resumed the trek up the mountain.

“Look around,” he said after a few minutes. I had been looking at my own feet as the mountain got slightly steeper and rockier. I looked up, shocked to see that the sunlight was now almost blinding when I looked around. It seemed we had broken through the layer of fog. The sun shone on the top of the clouds, which looked like a big, white unbroken blanket. The sky was a dazzling blue and the grass shone with early morning dew.

“Told you it was worth it,” said Tudor. He pointed upward, to the summit of the mountain. “I have snacks for when we get to the top.”

It took us another couple of minutes to reach the top of the mountain which was mostly flat if a little craggy for a few metres, and the sunlight had us both sweating. The blanket of cloud below stretched for miles, but I could see gaps where green grass or the glint of water shone through.

“Give it an hour and it’ll all have burned away in the sun,” said Tudor. He shucked off his bag and jacket. Under the jacket he was wearing a vest which showed off He had been sweating now in thewarmth of the sun and his arms glistened. Tudor took out a picnic blanket from the bag and laid it on the flattest patch of rock before sitting down. “C’mon, I’ve cooked for us,” he said. He took out a big flask, smaller hip flask and more Tupperware than I had thought it would be possible to fit in the little bag. I sat down next to him and unzipped my tracksuit hoodie. The sun felt glorious on my skin.

“Pork pie? Cookie? Sausage roll? Vegan sausage roll? Spring rolls?” Tudor gestured to each Tupperware and pushed them toward me.

“Bloody hell, you’re more of a feeder than my mother,” I said even as I took one of everything. It would be rude not to sample, after all.

“I’ll fatten you up eventually,” said Tudor. “Are you close with your mum, then?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be nowadays.”

“And why’s that?” Tudor’s question seemed to come from a place of honesty rather than greed like journalists often did.

“Just…busy, y’know? Flying all over the world and working, then promoting films or TV shows in between, and auditioning when I’m not doing any of that. It can be difficult to get back home.”

“And where is home, for you?” Tudor asked.

I thought of Mum’s face, cups of tea on a worn wooden surface. Roast dinner on a Sunday. “Yorkshire,” I replied. “Though it’s been a long while since I’ve been back.”

“Yorkshire? You sound so posh!” Tudor pushed atmy shoulder gently.

I took another sausage roll from the box and swallowed it down before replying. “RADA used to try and get everyone RP back in the day. You had to be posh to get by in show business. Now, regional accents are all the rage and they’re training posh actors to sound more working class — I’m a dinosaur already.”

“You look pretty good for a fossil, must be all those moisturisers you promote on your Instagram story,” said Tudor with a smile. I punched him in the shoulder, which made him grin even more. In the sunlight, he was absolutely breathtaking. His blonde hair seemed to shine in the sunlight and his eyes reflected the colour of the sky all around us. I was enamoured with this Welshman and had no idea what to do about it. I was going to leave one day soon and he’d settle down into a humdrum life with a lovely down to earth man who appreciated the creature comforts he could provide. Who could give him the kind of stability I couldn’t.

“Penny for your thoughts,” said Tudor. I shook myself out of my daze.

“Nothing,” I said, tearing my eyes away from his. “Just admiring the day…”

I tailed off as I looked around us for the first time in a long time. The sun had burned away the fog below us much as Tudor had predicted, and I’d spent so long focusing on him that I hadn’t looked around me. I pushed myself up to stand and lookaround.

I could see for miles and miles, over hills greener and more verdant than anything I’d ever seen before. They rolled on for miles, dotted by hundreds of sheep and an occasional grey rocky crag.

Tudor had stood up next to me and tapped my shoulder, turning me the other way. The mountain we were on stood inland from the sea, but I could still see cliffs, rocky and sandy beaches.

“The advantage to mid-Wales, is you can see everything,” Tudor said. He pointed to our left, where far in the distance I could see the land reaching out further into the sea. “There’s the Llyn Peninsula. If you took a map of Wales and looked, it’s like an arm reaching out into the sea. And there-” he pointed out to a landmass in the distance, “is Ireland. It’s clearer from Anglesey - Ynys Mon, we call it - but it’s lovely from here too.”

“It’s so…” I started, but I had no idea how to finish. Green? Vibrant? Beautiful? All of the above. All my expectations for this country has been tested — cracked, maybe — during weeks of filming. And now that perception had been shattered. I couldn’t see Wales as some parochial, grey and miserable country whenthisexisted. Even if it still rained as much as it shone, the days it shone made up for it.

“They say that Wales was a land of giants,” said Tudor, his hand drifting up and down my back. “The Celtic nations —that is Wales, Scotland, and Ireland — have so many shared myths. So much shared history. I really think people would make the trek to Hiraeth if they knew. What legends lie beneath their feet.”

“I would,” I said. “But then again, it’s not just the legends that would keep me coming back.”

Tudor caught my eye and looked down as if embarrassed. As smoothly as possible, and in a way that a director had one told me would have ‘women in the audience creaming their pants’, I hooked one finger under his chin and used it to pull him closer in for a kiss.

---