Trusting Jack (33 page)

Chapter 43

             
Emma was finally cleared to go back to work.  She was so grateful she almost kissed Dr. Amos.  She was sick of being cooped up, of being taken out for walks like a pet.  Norah had finally allowed her to take care of the emails again, but nothing else.  She’d barely been able to keep her temper reigned in.  One more day and she’d have gone postal.

             
James, who had driven her to the doctor’s office, took her to lunch to celebrate.

             
“Hamburger,” she told the waitress happily.  Her voice was only a little hoarse now.

             
“You look pleased with yourself,” James remarked.

             
“I am.  I finally get real food again.  I’m sick of soup and yogurt and scrambled eggs.  I just might eat a big streak for supper.”

             
“And you go back to the set tomorrow.”

             
“Yes, thank Christ.  I hate I missed so much of the filming.  Norah’s reflection set starts tomorrow.”

             
“It seems the papers have lost interest in you for now.”

             
“Yeah.  Thomas says it’ll start back up when the trial starts.  But he said it won’t be like before.”  Her hamburger was placed in front of her and she stared at it for a minute, her mouth watering.

             
She picked it up and took a small bite—better to start off slow, she thought—and her eyes closed in bliss.  She made a sound of pure pleasure as she chewed.  She swallowed and was thankful it was only slightly uncomfortable.

             
She opened her eyes and found James staring at her with a bemused expression.  “Satisfied?” he asked.

             
“I think my mouth just had an orgasm.”  Her laugh rolled out when his mouth dropped and his face turned red.

             
“Well.  That’s good.  I think.”  He cleared his throat, then grinned.  “You do say the most unexpected things sometimes.”

***

              Emma reveled in being back on the set.  She sat in her usual spot and gazed happily as Norah began.

             
Hair and makeup had done a fantastic job, she thought.  Norah’s wig was now blond laced liberally with silver.  There were fine lines around her mouth, etching out from her eyes.  They had added padding, making her look like an older, wiser Isabella.

             
“Action.”

             
Norah sank gracefully onto a small, slightly worn settee and opened an ornately carved trunk.  She pulled out a small diadem and placed it on her head.  Reaching in again, she pulled out one of the dresses she’d worn and ran her hands over it, a small smile playing around her lips.

             
Emma watched, spellbound by the scene.  Miniatures of a younger Isabella, of Edward II and III, of her other children were lovingly looked at, traced gently with fingertips.

             
Tears gathered in ‘Isabella’s’ eyes when she pulled out a heavy gold necklace from the chest.  She slipped it over her head and fingered the pendent as she stood.

             
“Cut!  That was great, Norah, but let’s do it again.  And when you stand this time, go to the window and stare out of it.”

             
“Get contemplative, maybe a little regretful?”

she proposed and got an
enthusiastic nod.  She sat and waited for her cue.

             
“It could’ve really been like this,” Emma murmured when Jack sat beside her.  “Did she end up regretting it?  Or did she only regret the end result?”

             
“You get such a faraway look in your eyes when you talk about it.”

             
Emma shook herself and smiled.  “Sorry.  It just catches me, you know?  The whole history of it, wondering why and how and if they wished they would’ve taken different paths.”

             
“And do you think Isabella did?”

             
“I think she regretted the loss of Mortimer, of being banished from court.  But not anything else,” Emma mused.  “And Norah’s done a tremendous job with the character.  You all have.”

             
“I think we’ve accomplished something brilliant,” Jack told her.  “I think it’s going to be a big hit.”

             
“So do I.  Just think, all this change, the removal of one king to make way for his son, because a woman wouldn’t meekly stand by and accept her fate.”

             
“Do you think Edward II was bisexual?”

             
Emma shrugged.  “It seems likely, but there’s no direct proof.”

             
“Guess we’ll never know, then.  And since James told me you can eat again,” he changed the subject, “how about I take you out tonight.  I know a place where the steak melts in your mouth.”

             
“That sounds like heaven.  And, after, you could take me to bed.  For dessert.”  She wiggled her brows.

             
“Saucy wench.  I love you.”

***

             
“David confirmed it,” Emma told Norah during a break.  “
Jilted
has been indefinitely shelved.”

             
“Well, then.  Guess we get a nice, long break.  I’ve set up a meeting with him for after we wrap.  I’m going to tell him I’m going to cut back, slow down.”

             
“That’ll go over well.”

             
Norah wrinkled her nose.  “I know.  He’ll fuss and try to guilt me.  But I’m serious.  One project a year.”

             
“Do you not love it anymore?”

             
“Oh, I still love it.  And if a really good role comes my way I’ll grab onto it.  But I’ve been in the business since I was sixteen, worked almost steadily since.  And these last four years have been nonstop.  I’m tired,” she finished on a laugh. 

             
“What will you do?”  The unspoken question in her eyes was
What will I do
?

             
“Spend more time with family and friends.  I have two nephews I’d like to play with before they grow up.  Travel, see the places I want to see and take all the time in the world to do it.  And don’t think I haven’t noticed the cow eyes you and Jack have been giving each other again”

             
“There’s no cow eyes.”  Emma grinned.

             
“Oh, there is.  I keep waiting for the little hearts to shoot out.”

             
“Shut up.”  They shared an easy laugh.

             
“I’ll want you with me, Emma, when I am working.”

             
“And beyond that?”  She held her breath.

             
“Norah just looked at her.  “If I’m traveling, I’d like a friend to be with me.  It’s not much fun alone.”

             
Emma expelled a heavy breath.  “I would love

to, really, really love to.  But I can’t afford…”

              “Still need an assistant, don’t I?  We’ll work it out later.  They’re ready to go again.”

Chapter 44

             
“I think we’ll go ahead,” Thomas decided.  “It’s not raining hard and I think it’ll add to the scene.”

             
“I really don’t care for rain,” Norah muttered and made Jack laugh.

             
“Ah, well, maybe we can get the procession done in a take or two.”

             
“Sure, if the extras will pay attention.”  She grinned at him.  “Let’s get you crowned, my king.”

             
Emma watched as they made their way down the street.  The extras played their part well, bowing and heaping blessings onto Edward III and Queen Isabella.  People were lined up behind the barricades, snapping pictures and waiting for autographs. 

They weren’t disappointed.  After three takes, when Tomas was satisfied, Jack and Norah posed with fans and signed their names.

              Emma loved to watch them work a crowd.  They were always so open, so genuine with the people.  She preferred to watch them from inside when it was cold and wet out.

             
After lunch, they crowded into Thomas’s office.  “You’re going to the recording studio tomorrow,” he told Norah.  “We’ll get the voice overs captured.”

             
“That’s what will play when she’s pulling everything out of that chest?” Roger asked.

             
“That’s right, and in the beginning.”  Thomas nodded at him.  “And tomorrow night, we’ll do the kill shot.”

             
“The King is dead, long live the King,” Jack intoned and got a beady stare from Roger.

             
“Sad thing and all, killing your father like that,”

he said with a grin.  Then, “Did they really kill him like

that?  With a hot poker up the bum?”

             
Everyone swung expectantly towards Emma.  “What?”

             
“We know you know,” Alison told her.

             
“Well.  The popular story is that because he had sex with men-something simply not tolerated at the time-a fitting death was to ram a hot poker up his…up there.  But other theories include, and I lean towards this one, is Isabella and Edward III forced him to drink poison.”

             
“It is sad, if you think about it,” Norah said, “that a son would kill his father.”

             
“Edward II wasn’t a good king.  He was weak and too easily swayed by his current favorite.   Edward III was a much stronger ruler.  Isabella and Mortimer did do the best thing for England; they just went mad with power after.”

             
“You’ll have that sometimes, I suppose,” Roger commented dryly and Jack snickered.

             
“All right, enough history lessons for today.  I want to work on the after-kill shots and the funeral.”

***

              “Yes, Mama, I’m fine.  I promise.”  Emma paced, waiting for Ann’s worry to settle.

             
“You’re sure you don’t need me to come over there?  You don’t need to come home?”

             
“I’m sure, Mama.  Norah needs me, and you need to stay home to make sure the café is in order.”

             
“Oh, we both know Penny did right.  I wish I hadn’t gone on that cruise!  I wasn’t here when you needed me.”  Ann broke into tears again.

             
“Please don’t cry,” Emma begged.  She gestured

helplessly and Norah smiled with sympathy.

              “You almost died, baby, and I wasn’t there.”

             
“I didn’t die, Mama.  And the bruises are almost all gone.”  It was true; her face was completely back to normal and only faint traces remained on her neck and ribs.

             
“And the pain?  Are you still hurting?”

             
“Just a little tender in my ribs and shoulder.”

             
“Promise?”

             
“Promise.  I’m almost all mended up.”

             
“Well, ok.”  Ann sniffed.  “When are you coming home?”

             
“I’ve got a flight scheduled two weeks from tomorrow.”

             
“I’ll meet you at the airport.  I’ve missed you so much, baby.”

             
“I’ve missed you, too.  Love you, Mama.  Bye.”

             
“Still upset, huh?” Norah asked as Emma disconnected.

             
“I’ll say.”  Emma sighed, plopped beside Norah on the couch.  “She’s mad at herself for being gone.  She’s mad at Chris for not finding a way to reach her.  And if she could get at Marcus she’d kill him.”