Page 118 of Let’s Make a Scene

“Thankfully everyone else knew much better than I did,” he says. “I was a total twat about it.”

“All worked out in the end though, didn’t it?” Max sits back in his seat after grabbing his own glass—it holds the same golden liquid as his wife’s. I notice no one has offered us a drink yet. “For you, at least. In line for another Oscar nom, I heard on the grapevine.” His eyes are shrewd. “That was good work you did with Hardy—he knows how to wring a performance out of an actor.”

“He was interesting to work with,” is what I settle on.

Caroline scoffs into her glass. “Oh yes.” Her tone is arch. “So we hear.”

Jack looks like he’s about to start throwing punches, and I put my hand on his knee.

“Hmmmm,” Max continues, “you haven’t done any stage work yet, though?”

“I’ve considered it,” I admit, “but it’s finding the time. It’s such a big commitment.”

“Yes,” Caroline agrees silkily, “it does require a certain amount of stamina, and of course you don’t have the opportunity to do another take if you don’t get it right the first time.”

“You’ve made smart choices.” Max gestures to me with his glass, ignoring his wife’s poisonous little jabs. “Unlike this son of ours who seems very happy to trade in his dignity for a paycheck.”

“Give it a rest, Dad,” Jack says on a sigh.

“Someone needs to say it.” Caroline’s lip curls. “Honestly, I don’t think you considered at all how it would reflect on your father and me. I hardly know what to say to people when they ask.”

“What do you think, Cynthie?” Max asks me suddenly.

“Sorry,” I say slowly, “I don’t follow.” I actually have no idea what’s going on. The two of them are talking like Jack’s about to reveal a secret life as a stripper, which actually I would have no problem with—especially if I got a practical demonstration.

“This bloody vampire business,” Max roars, seemingly unaware of the pun. “Waste of his time and talent.”

I blink. “You’re talking about Blood/Lust?”

Caroline grimaces. “Stupid name.”

“Says the woman who wanted a son called Oberon.” Jack laughs. I turn to him in surprise. Far from looking upset, he seems only amused by his parents’ criticism.

“Yes,” Max presses on, ignoring this. “What do you think about Blood/Lust?” He makes sure the name of the show drips with disdain.

“I love it,” I reply, sitting back on the sofa and crossing my legs. I meet Max’s look of outrage steadily. “Never miss an episode.”

“Me neither,” Lee pipes up unexpectedly.

Now that does surprise Jack. “You watch it?” he asks.

“Of course.” Lee shrugs. “At first I watched it because you were in it, but now I’m deeply invested. If Lucy and Bas don’t end up together, I’ll riot.” She smiles then, and a dimple appears in each of her cheeks. She is startlingly lovely.

“I can’t believe it.” Jack shakes his head.

“Nor can I,” Caroline scoffs. “Having displayed a total lack of interest in any work of artistic merit your father or I laid before you, now you decide you enjoy this… this paranormal soap opera?”

Lee’s face smooths out again, and she removes an invisible speck from her trousers. “I didn’t display a lack of interest,” she says, and there’s an edge of weariness in her voice, as if she’s had this conversation many times before. “I simply told you that I preferred math.”

“My daughter.” Max shakes his head solemnly. “An accountant.” He says the word heavily, as if it is a synonym for drug dealer.

“After all those lessons too.” Caroline shakes her head. “She was a beautiful ballet dancer,” she says to me, before remembering that we’re not on the same team, and looking away.

“But you can’t be serious,” Max presses me. “There’s no need to be polite for our benefit.”

Jack scoffs at this, as well he might, but I keep my smile fixed.

“I’m not being polite. I think it’s a great show. Entertaining, fun, it has a huge following. People really love it.”