Back Blurred Lines
Chapters (39)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Hannah Begbie:
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Chapter 30
  34. Acknowledgements
  35. If you enjoyed Blurred Lines, keep reading for a taste of Hannah Begbie’s first novel Mother.
  36. PROLOGUE
  37. About the Author
  38. Also by Hannah Begbie
  39. About the Publisher

‘And I think that helps, I honestly do!’ says Sam. ‘But, cards on the table, if Emilia turns round to me tomorrow and asks me outright if she should do this, I’m fucking torn. She loves it and I love it but let’s be honest, it’s not a payday for her, so what’s it about? It’s an awards movie. She gets a Best Actress nomination out of this. But if it turns into the film about feminism that a male rapist made … you hear what I’m saying? That film doesn’t get distribution, let alone a run at awards season. It’s bad. And what’s worse than that is if she goes ahead and does the film even though the story is on the table. We could cut it back a little, say she was under contract already and believes in due process, blah blah, but it’d still look bad, and all for zero upside. You see what I’m saying here?’

‘I don’t know what else to say.’

‘Well you need to think, friend, because what I need from you is something very smart and substantial to tell to my client, otherwise the thing I’m left saying is all the stuff I just laid out. And by the way, I’m only even having this conversation because I like Matthew a lot and because I think you have a big future as a producer. If it was anyone else I’d tell Emilia to bail already and be done with it. Fuck knows she has other options.’

‘I hear you.’

‘Cool, but what am I hearing from you?’

Becky is dizzy. She wants to ask for time. She wants to lie down. She needs a day – a week, maybe more – to figure out a way through this mess. She feels like a squash ball getting smashed around the court, flying at all angles. And Sam wants his answer or everything collapses.

She stops and leans against a garden wall, taking a deep breath. Even as the clock ticks and Sam waits, she can’t help but wonder whether Scott has ever had to justify himself so thoroughly for his actions in his entire life. Had another woman suffered at his hands since he touched her? She burns with shame and anger at her own weakness and inaction.

Then she straightens her spine, stands to her tallest height, plants her feet firmly on the ground.