Page 78 of You Only Live Once
Laughing helped relieve some of the tension making my body so rigid it was almost painful. ‘Now I know you’re telling porkies.’
Jack gently pushed a curl back over my left shoulder with his free hand. ‘Not at all. In fact, I’ve never been more serious in my life.’
I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, releasing the grip on Jack’s hand ever so slightly in order to strengthen it once again, silently telling him that I’d heard the words and appreciated them, even if I did find them hard to believe.
‘So what would you like to do?’ he asked, no pressure in his voice. The decision was entirely mine.
‘Let’s go a bit further.’
Jack laid his other hand over the top of our joined ones before relaxing back into the seat as we continued to crawl closer to our exit point.
Sooner than I expected, and certainly hoped, we were pulling up and two men in dark suits each opened the car door. In no hurry, Jack faced me. ‘You ready to do this?’
I wasn’t, but I knew I had to. I’d worked hard for this moment, and although I was terrified, I knew, as Jack had suggested, that if I didn’t do this tonight, I would regret it for the rest of my life. I also knew I needed to do this for Mike. He hadn’t lived to see me achieve the success that I had today, but he’d always been there cheering me on and encouraging me, helping me believe in myself and basically just keeping me at it. I wish he could have been here to see all this, but hopefully, somewhere, he knew how much I loved him for helping me make it happen.
I met Jack’s eyes. ‘Yes.’ He gave me a wide smile, squeezed my hand and then we each got out of our respective side of the car.
The noise was overwhelming. Between the crowds, spectators and the crush of media all shouting names in every direction, with camera flashes going off almost constantly, it felt like barely controlled chaos. I concentrated on the directions Zinnia had given me to just walk up the carpet and head inside, then give her a call. Somewhere in there, she and a collection of people from the publishing company would find me.
I’d been with Zinnia a long time, but the publishing company was one I’d changed to a couple of years after Mike had passed. At the time, it felt like I needed to change everything. The original company had been a large conglomerate and, whilst the glamorous parties had seemed attractive initially, they’d never especially been my thing, and once Mike had gone, they definitely weren’t. I had done OK with them, sitting reasonably comfortably as a mid-list author, but when I read about a new start-up publishing company, something prompted me – perhaps Mike from another plane, which is what I liked to think – to approach them. That was when things really began to take off, and now here I was, in London’s Leicester Square, heading towards the red carpet feeling like I was caught up in a very surreal dream.
I stole a glance at Jack as he walked beside me, my arm tucked through his. He looked calm, relaxed, and as though this was something he did every day. It was also hard not to notice that he looked incredibly handsome. It wouldn’t surprise me if he got mistaken for a movie star. Suddenly, he seemed to sense me looking at him and the green eyes turned and locked onto my blue ones.
‘You’re doing great.’ He laid his other hand over mine on his arm for a moment in a gesture of reassurance as he bent a little towards me so that he could make himself heard over the clamour that surrounded us.
‘OK.’ I smiled back at him, gripping his arm probably tighter than was the norm. I could see the door to the theatre now. We were almost there. One hurdle down. It was then somebody recognised me and suddenly my name was being called in all directions, or, more accurately, the pen name that I used.
‘Just look up and smile,’ Jack encouraged. I retained my grip on him but also did what he said, trying my best to make it seem natural so the internet tomorrow wasn’t full of pictures of a terrified-looking author caught in paparazzi headlights. Ahead of me, I saw various people with microphones, dressed in evening dress, speaking into cameras, interviewing various people as they walked up the carpet, faces illuminated by extra lighting on top of the camera. Each microphone had a square tab underneath its head, identifying which channel its holder represented. I recognised a few, but others meant nothing, and I assumed they were perhaps from other countries, or one of the many satellite channels. Not exactly being a TV buff, I wasn’t up on these things.
Suddenly someone hurried towards me, calling out my pen name.
‘Astoria? Astoria?’
A tall, beautiful black woman in a shocking pink gown with her hair piled on top of her head was gesturing to an assistant, who breathily asked if they could have a few words for a well-known entertainment channel. Even I’d heard of it, so it had to be pretty big.
Jack was hustled to the side, a little behind me. I looked back over my shoulder at Jack, noticed by both the assistant and the presenter.
‘If you can just wait there for a moment, sir, we won’t be long.’
Jack nodded and stood with his hands in his pockets, before moving to stand behind the camera so that he was out of the way and not just left like a lemon in the middle of the red carpet.
‘Hi, lovely to meet you, Astoria.’
‘Hi.’ I concentrated on breathing so I didn’t squeak too much.
‘I’m just going to ask you a couple of questions, OK? Great,’ she continued, answering her own question. The light on the camera switched on and suddenly both she and I were bathed in what felt like a football pitch floodlight. She didn’t seem fazed by it at all, but it felt unnerving to me. I remembered Jack was close by and had now moved so that I could see him. He gave a subtle, reassuring smile which I returned, feeling my pulse rate drop a little as I did so.
‘Here with me now is Astoria James, the writer of the hit novel that tonight’s premiere is based upon. Astoria?’ She turned to me. ‘This is the first of your novels to be turned into a film, is that right?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I answered into the microphone now thrust close to my face. It swung back towards the presenter.
‘And how does it feel to be here tonight? You are famous for being rather a recluse, after all.’
I gripped my clutch bag a little tighter and felt myself get hot, only hoping that the layers of make-up Jemima had applied earlier in the day would be enough to hide my awkward blushes. I knew the woman was just doing her job, even though I found the question a little rude and intrusive, but I suppose that was part of today’s world. Everybody wanted to know everything, whether it was their business or not. I didn’t think the way I chose to live my life was anything to do with the film, but I also knew that by putting myself out here tonight, I was opening myself up to questions that might not be the most comfortable. Admittedly, I hadn’t thought it would be on camera, but there we are. I fixed on a smile and began to reply.
‘It’s true, I do value my privacy, but a lot of people worked very hard to make my book the success that it has been. I’m very grateful to Bella Dupree for loving the book as much as she does and for championing it into becoming a major film production.’
The woman seemed satisfied with this answer. I’d seen her glance over my shoulder, past the camera. I’d assumed she was looking for the next person to pounce upon and therefore about to wrap up this particular interview. I was grateful it had been so short.
