Chapter 27

“I look fat,” said Chloë. “Fat, Fat, Fat. I mean look at the size of my arse.”

“Well, it’s not a very flattering angle, I’ll grant you—”

“Flattering angle? We’ve seen girls in other films from that angle, and their arses don’t look that big.”

“It doesn’t look big.”

“Turn it off. I don’t know why you wanted to make a stupid sex film anyway.”

“It was all your idea, as I recall,” said Adam.

“Yeah, but you could have objected. You should have seen how awful I looked and stopped me.”

“But I don’t think you look awful. I think you look fantastic, on-screen and off. I think our film is at least as good as anything we’ve downloaded from the internet.”

Her tone softened. “Really?”

“Really, really. Would I lie about something like that?”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “That’s sweet. But I still don’t want to watch it. Not now. Not ever. Turn it off and put something else on. Then destroy that disc so on-one else gets hold off it.”

“You are joking. I’m not destroying it. It’ll be my little reminder of you on all the cold nights to come when you’re off being a star and I’m left home alone.” He grinned.

She frowned. “Okay. But if it ever leaks out, on your head be it.”

“It’ll be safer than the Crown Jewels. I swear.”

“Weren’t they stolen once?”

“About a thousand years ago or something. But they’ve been safe ever since.” Adam got off the bed and replaced their home-made DVD with another one.

“I heard from Humphrey today. Everything’s been cleared with the University for our trip to Hollywood.”

“Our trip? So I’m going too, am I?”

“Of course. I need you there for support. I have to have someone to walk up the red carpet with and someone’s hand to hold as they open the envelope.”

“Even though you don’t expect to win?”

“Especially because I don’t expect to win. Can you imagine it? I’d be the only one who didn’t have a shoulder to cry on.”

“What about Mark? Or Lisa? Or Tom?”

She shook her head. “You know full well there’s only one shoulder I want. Besides, none of them can make love to me by way of compensation.” She grinned at him. “We’re going to be there for just over a week. We fly out on Sunday evening and spend the week doing the interview circuit. The ceremony is the following Sunday and we fly back on Monday evening. Between now and then Humph and Sally have lined up a bunch of interviews here in Westmouth. It’s not great, but it’s the best we can do. I’m not running off to LA for a whole month. No way. There’d be so much work to catch up on when I got back.”

“Unless you win. Then you won’t be coming back at all, I expect.”

“Why do you say that?”

Adam thought for a moment. “I suppose that if you win, you’ll be in demand, won’t you? Oscar winners sell films. So you’ll probably get hundreds of offers, all with big fat paycheques. You’d be crazy to turn them down.”

“Then I must be crazy because this time last year I decided I wanted to complete my education and making movies wasn’t going to get in the way. So even if I win, I’m still coming back here, and I’m still going to finish my course. The fat paycheques will just have to wait.” She laughed. “Besides, I’m not going to win, because I’m not prepared to spend the next month in L.A. kissing arse.”

“Good. Because I’d miss you if you did.”

“I’d miss you too.” She laid her head on his chest and settled down to watch the film. “Which film did you put on?”

“Polly’s Party.”

“Is that the one you thinks looks like me?”