the pilot just announced we’d be landing in half an hour. I thought you’d want to get yourself together.’
She stretched her arms past her head, yawned and looked out of the window. It was so dark out there they could have been flying through a black hole.
‘What time is it?’
‘Our time or local time?’
‘Whichever.’
‘Well, it’s just after midnight local time. At least we get a few extra hours to catch up on sleep.’
Ellie made a face. ‘I think I could do with a whole week!’
He smiled, and she forgot to be grumpy.
‘You know, you look very cute when you’ve just woken up,’ he said.
Ellie snorted, then pulled a mirror out of her bag and inspected the damage. Just as she’d thought. All her mascara had migrated into a gloopy lump in one corner of her eye. Very cute.
‘You need glasses, then,’ she said as she threw the mirror onto her lap and searched for a tissue in a bag pocket.
‘Here—let me.’
Before she could refuse he’d whipped a handkerchief out of his pocket with a flourish and tipped her chin towards him with his other hand. He leaned so close all the hairs behind her ears stood on end. She did her absolute best not to look too pathetic as he gently dabbed her eye. Somehow, with him taking care of her like this, she didn’t feel so lost.
That incident set the tone for the rest of the journey. When she hauled her cases off the carousel at baggage reclaim Mark was there with a trolley before she even blinked. He shepherded her into one of the cars that appeared like magic out at the front of the terminal and saw her settled at the hotel.
It had been so long since she’d felt like this. Safe. Taken care of. Not struggling to do everything by herself. It was very tempting to give in and forget they’d be home in a few days. And that, technically, she was being paid to look after him.
Ellie shivered as yet another spider scuttled across her foot. The first time one had crawled over her today she’d almost freaked out. Big time. But the cameras were rolling, filming at the first location for Kat’s video, and she hadn’t wanted to sprint round the set like a lunatic in front of the crew.
Or re-live the incident when they watched the rushes at the end of the day.
Or feature in some TV out-takes compilation next Christmas.
So, although she felt as if she’d imploded with the effort, she stifled the screams, put on a stoic face and stood her ground.
She sighed and ran her fingers through the damp curls sticking to her forehead. The whole crew was packed into a tight knot at the end of an idyllic bay where the narrow beach met the rocks. Ellie was hiding out in the jungle-like greenery that fringed the white-hot sand. Hence the spiders. She’d thought she’d do anything to escape something with eight legs, but the need for shade and even a few degrees less heat had overruled her natural instincts. It was only after they’d arrived at the hotel that Mark had explained that summer could be hot and horribly humid on the island. Most of the tourists came in the winter months.
Kat was knee-deep in water, singing along to the track that was due to be her next single. The surf behind her looked mighty inviting. Ellie was fantasising about diving into the sea, acting like a fish and hoping nobody would notice. Nice dream, but in reality she was stuck under the nearest palm tree, wilting, while everybody else did something vastly important.
The heat was making her clothes stick to her skin. Even her skin was sticking to her skin. She longed for the air-conditioned haven of the hotel. Typical of many resorts on the island, the elegant low-rise main building was surrounded by lush tropical gardens and luxurious cabins. She wanted to be doing jobs she knew how to do: faxing things, shredding things. An evil glint flickered in her eyes. She wanted to be stapling things—preferably to Mark’s head.
No, that wasn’t fair. It was her own fault she hadn’t found out what she was letting herself in for. It was the jet lag making her tetchy. And she’d never been on friendly terms with this kind of heat. It made her hair frizz.
The director stood up and bellowed, ‘Cut!’
The music died instantly, but Ellie knew the song so well by now that it kept playing inside her skull, pounding against her temples.
The director barked instructions to anyone within earshot.
‘Baz, zoom out a little so I can see the sand. Jerry, check that last take to see if the light is still okay. Kat, my darling, could you just move to that rock on your left?’ Kat waded obligingly to the rock and took up her position. ‘That’s it. Can you put one foot on top of it? Good.’
Ellie admired her stamina. They’d all been standing on this beach for most of the day. She’d have dived in and floated away hours ago if it she’d been in Kat’s shoes. She massaged her forehead and listened to the pounding of the surf. She’d expected a little time to collect herself after they’d arrived, but it had been straight to work. No lounging by the pool under a yellow umbrella. No sipping coconut-flavoured cocktails in a hammock. Time really was money when video cameras were involved, it seemed.
‘Playback!’
The director’s yell was like a crack from a shotgun. Birds scattered from the treetops in terror. Ellie checked her clipboard. All her tasks were done. There was nothing left to do but drift over towards the director and watch Kat’s progress on one of the boxy little monitors.
The minute hand on her watch dragged itself listlessly through the next few hours and the sun began to set. They moved position a few times, and each move meant ages of checking the lighting, setting up cameras and other kit. Then Kat would have to sing her song another thousand times, this time in close-up, this time on a long-shot. See? She was even starting to learn the lingo.
Just as the sun had finally set, and Ellie was about to scream with the monotony of it all, Mark suddenly waded into the sea and scooped Kat into his arms.
‘Cut!’ the director bellowed, impotent with fury.
Ellie could only imagine the myriad expletives scalding the tip of his tongue. He spluttered, searching for the right word to unlock the torrent. Ellie turned quickly to face the trees and hid a smile. The prima donna on this set was definitely not the singer!
Mark said nothing as he carried Kat out of the water, but his eyes were blazing a warning as clear as if he’d shouted it. The director swallowed his rant. Mark unhooked his arm from under Kat’s knees and let her bare feet touch the ground in one controlled motion.
‘That’s a wrap for today, everybody,’ he said.
His voice was calm, but everyone from the director to the runners knew that negotiations were useless. The generator coughed to a halt. No one moved.
Ellie broke the tense silence with a scurry of movement. She tugged a fluffy towel out of the bag of provisions she’d hauled along with her and slung it over Kat’s shoulders. All that time standing in the water! The poor girl must be prune-like on the bottom half and baked on the top half. She glanced at Mark, and flushed as she saw the flicker of approval in his eyes.
Kat whispered her thanks as they headed to the speed boats that had brought them on the short trip round the coast into the small crescent-shaped bay. It had been chosen because they were practically guaranteed an uninterrupted shoot, with no onlookers or journalists to deal with as it was inaccessible by road.
Mark and Kat headed for the smallest boat, followed closely by Rufus, Kat’s bodyguard—or personal protection officer, as he preferred to be called. Ellie trailed along behind, still feeling like a spare part. The rest of the crew concentrated on unplugging and packing the expensive technical thing-ummy-jigs in foam-padded metal cases. They would follow on shortly, in the larger two boats.
They