Page 143 of Let’s Make a Scene

A date.

A real date.

With Jack.

I wonder what it will be like. I wonder if he’ll finally put his hands on me. God, I hope he puts his hands on me.

As promised the car picks me up at eight sharp, and I have no idea what’s going on when it starts taking the road back to Darlcot. “Are we picking Jack up from set?” I ask Greg as we bump up the drive.

“Yes?” Greg says, sounding troublingly uncertain.

When we reach the house, Jack is waiting outside. He’s wearing jeans, a mossy-green sweater, and a nervous expression. He comes round to open the car door for me.

“What’s going on?” I ask, confused. “I thought you wanted to go on a date?”

“We are,” he says. “The date is here.”

Greg is beaming at us.

“Here?” I repeat, no wiser. “At work?”

“Do you trust me?” He’s smiling, but there’s something in his voice, something in his eyes, that tells me the question isn’t lighthearted.

“Yes,” I say, and the words come easily.

He looks relieved as he holds out his hand to me. “Come on, then.” His fingers tangle with mine, and it’s the first time we’ve touched in almost a week. It’s the tiniest taste of what I’ve been craving, a drop in the ocean. I wonder how quickly I could get him naked. His outfit has a reassuring lack of buttons so I’m thinking it wouldn’t take me too long. I’m so distracted by my own thirsty schemes that I barely register where we’re going.

He guides me around the side of the house and there, on the edge of the formal lawn, I find my friends waiting for us.

Chapter 46 CYNTHIE

“What…” I begin, trailing off as I take in the scene in front of me.

It’s an outdoor cinema. And it absolutely wasn’t here a few hours ago. The entire cast and crew are milling around, drinking champagne and chatting. When they catch sight of me, a cheer goes up.

I lift my hand in greeting, bewildered. “What is going on?” I whisper.

There are picnic blankets with cushions strewn across them, arranged in neat rows on the grass. Tall glass lanterns with white candles inside them are clustered around the edges of the lawn. Pam is there, running a makeshift bar out of the side of her van. Overhead there’s an enormous metal rigging frame from which hundreds of fairy lights have been suspended around an extremely serious-looking projector. There’s a screen—a professional setup with a load of substantial sound equipment.

“How did you…?” I start again, still dazed.

“The whole crew pitched in,” Jack replies, tugging me forward to where Hannah is holding out a glass of champagne to me.

“I still don’t understand,” I say. “This is incredible. Are we going to watch a film?”

“What on earth gave you that idea?” Patty says drily.

I narrow my eyes. “What are you all doing here on my date? Is this why you’ve been acting like lunatics?”

“Well, truthfully, it’s less of a date and more of an intervention,” Hannah warns me.

“A romantic intervention,” Jack says quickly.

“Yeah,” I say after a pause, “I think I need more information than that.”

“You asked us for our help,” Patty reminds me. “So we’re delivering.”

“Just take your champagne and go and sit down,” Liam says soothingly.