Page 111 of Love like the (Real) Reel Thing
He frowned. “No, more recently when we upgraded the floor of the Whispering Gallery. The structural engineer did a full report.”
“The structural engineer? Do you mean –”
“Robert Collins, yes.” Anthony nodded. “Good man to know.”
Jess nodded absently. Had Robert ever mentioned that? That would be a no. And what if … what if the tunnel wasn’t dangerous? What if it was just as safe as the other two tunnels?
Because if that was the case, someone could have used it to access the castle. No, even if it was safe, it couldn’t be accessed from outside the castle. The only tunnel that ran all the way outside the grounds was the Lady Linford.
Unless they’d used it for some other reason. Like secretly recording a private conversation on the Whispering Gallery. She realised Anthony was still talking.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that last bit?”
He smiled. “I was just saying that Ian was in touch. He’ll be back the week after next.”
“Oh, right.” She pulled herself back to the moment. “What’s the news about his brother?”
Anthony shook his head. “He was there for him, got to say his goodbyes.”
At least he got to say goodbye, Jess thought with a stab of sadness. Her mind flew back to the tunnel issue.
“Did you ever find out who might have owned that lens cover I found in the tunnel?”
“Oh, God, no,” Anthony shook his head. “I completely forgot about that.” He opened a drawer in his desk and took it out.
“Do you mind if I take it? I’ll see if I can reunite it with its owner.”
“Be my guest.” He got to his feet. “I’ll leave you to get on with your work.”
“Er, one more thing, Anthony, is Adam still around?”
“No, I believe he was going back up to Dublin.”
So he’d left the way he’d arrived, without a word of warning. But there was no reason for him to be here now that the crisis had been averted and filming was coming to an end. And he was probably missing his girlfriend.
After Anthony left, Jess stood and stretched, feeling utterly exhausted. She’d made an excuse not to meet Robert last night and he’d made no effort to get in touch today. She was still too confused about what had happened, or what she thought might have happened. It felt wrong to believe the worst of him, not without proof that he’d done anything.
She headed out of the hotel, shielding her eyes with her two hands as she looked around. From here, she could just make out the cast and crew on the set of the far west field.
“Jess, isn’t it?”
She turned, smiling as she recognised Deb Considine. The writer waggled a security pass – strung on a ribbon around her neck.
“I was invited to say hi to the producers. I hear they’re staying on until the end of the week?”
“Yeah, I’ve just heard that too. How’s the writing going?”
Deb grimaced. “I’m just flinging down the words at the moment. But it’s a privilege to get an invitation to see this.They’re shooting the summer scene that comes right at the end of the story. I can’t wait to see what they do with it.”
As they got closer to the set Jess noticed a couple of well-dressed men she guessed were the producers. Judging by their expressions, they were happy. And thanks to her, Emily and Adam, they had no idea that Afric had almost screwed up the final week of filming.
Even better, the media had failed to revive the Linford Curse. Despite having had access to every tiny thing that had happened on set – every row between the actors, every blow-up from Doug, not to mention what should have been private exchanges.
“I see the press have been invited in today too.” Deb gestured to someone standing on the other side of the set.
“Really?” Wishing she’d put on her sunglasses, Jess squinted over to see who she meant.
“The young woman with the black baseball hat and sunglasses,” Deb prompted.
