Fit For Purpose, Julian Parrott [most recommended books txt] 📗

He texted Nia that he loved her. He put his phone away, started up his vehicle and began the long drive through the busy commuter traffic.

About an hour outside of the city, both Tom and the Land Rover needed refuelling. Tom was at a Little Chef eating a bacon sandwich and sipping a coffee when his phone dinged with incoming texts. He checked excitedly. It was Nia, “Call me or text me.” And then another, “Love you.” Tom was both pleased and concerned. He texted back but noticed the text was not delivered. He felt that something was wrong. He opened his phone’s GPS app and typed in the address of the inn where Nia was staying.

***

 

Brecon Beacons

Nia was tired and cold as she entered the inn. The day’s shoot had gone well. Nia’s scenes were comprised of long takes in close up. The director had asked her to move through a range of love to loss, from yearning to gut wrenching disappointment. She had been asked to display a moment in her character’s evolution when she realises that her life would never be the same again, that her hopes and dreams were, essentially, shattered. Nia didn’t consider herself a method actor, but she had dug deep into her own history to tap the rich vein of experiences to create authentic emotions. Her tears had been real. As had her exhaustion.

The director had been pleased with Nia’s performance and felt that the whole day’s shoot had been satisfactory enough to bring the location filming to an end. Most of the cast and crew were looking forward to the traditional end of location wrap party and then moving on back to Cardiff and the warm and dry studios there. Nia wanted nothing more than a warm bath and a text from Tom.

Tom was standing at the inn’s bar, chatting good naturedly to the landlord when Nia walked in. Her emotions were already on edge, frayed, after the shoot’s requirements. She saw Tom and immediately went up to him at a run and embraced him in a long hard hug. Her eyes were wet.

“Oh, Tom,” she began. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Tom held her like a drowning man would a lifebelt, his fear for her safety evaporating. The darkness of his recent experiences, the unease that churned in his gut, dissipated. He felt her quiet sobs. Tom looked at her with concern.

“Hey, hey,” he said gently. “Are you okay? I missed you too.”

“It’s been a bit tougher than I expected,” Nia whispered. “The shoot, my character, Goldenboy.”

They embraced again. Tom wanted to tell her about London but the flood and melding of their emotions took over.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Nia said and she held Tom’s hand and led him up to her room. They showered together and then made love slowly on the soft, squeaky hotel bed. There was now a familiarity with their lovemaking each knowing the other’s wants and needs. There was burning, frenzied passion along with a comfort of experience and the confidence that came with love. Nia bit her lip and held Tom tightly as she climaxed. Tom wasn’t far behind and they fell together when he came. They spooned through the afterglow.

Tom, again, wanted to tell her about London, Kamenev, and MI5 but didn’t feel the time was right. Nia shifted position and laid with her head on Tom’s chest. She began to talk excitedly and rapidly about the shoot in her stream of consciousness fashion that Tom had grown to realise signified happiness. Tom listened and smiled. Nia drew a breath and asked Tom about his new book contract. Tom briefly explained the plans for the book, his need to travel along the canals Rolt had travelled some eighty years before. He would update Rolt’s observations and expand with his own experiences and anecdotes. Nia was excited to discuss options for her joining him on the Periwinkle for research trips. Her mood elevated by Tom’s appearance and the options for elements of a future together, Nia suggested they join the cast and crew for the hastily planned end of location party.

They dressed, Nia in jeans and a black T-shirt emblazoned with a Sun Records logo, Tom in chinos and a blue denim shirt, and they went down to join the shindig. The cast party was in full swing. The inn’s restaurant was doubling as an event space. It made for a good party room. Tables had been cleared, lights had been dimmed and filtered, and beer and wine were flowing. The room was full with cast members and crew alongside some invited locals and inn staff mingling around the room and its long bar. Tom quickly checked the room’s egress options while assessing the crowd to see if he could make Nia’s MI5 shadow. He couldn’t. An assistant director from the film crew was belting out a passing rendition of ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ on a small karaoke stage; her voice pure and high and obviously trained. Nia grabbed a small table while Tom went up to the bar.

“Hello Tom,” the landlord said with a genuine smile. “’Tis nice to see you and Nia down for the party. I was hoping you two would come down. Nia’s much liked by the folks round here. Drinks on the house tonight, courtesy of the production company, what you after?”

Tom ordered the usual; wine for Nia and a cider for himself. ‘Total Eclipse’ came to its final crescendo.

“Brave that,” Tom noted. “English girl singing Welsh girl’s big hit.”

The landlord nodded as he recorked the wine bottle after pouring a generous serving for Nia. There was an explosion of laughter from the corner of the room where Goldenboy was holding court.

“Prick,” the landlord said quietly. He looked at Tom. “I’ll tell you what was brave, the way she put him in his place when he came on to