Chapters (39)
- Cover
- Praise for Hannah Begbie:
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Acknowledgements
- If you enjoyed Blurred Lines, keep reading for a taste of Hannah Begbie’s first novel Mother.
- PROLOGUE
- About the Author
- Also by Hannah Begbie
- About the Publisher
‘She came to the office to try and see me,’ he says. ‘And at that point I was quite concerned, if I’m honest. Here is this very unstable girl, telling me that I have left her hanging, without explanations. That I have made her depressed. That she worries she can’t act any more and it’s all because of how I have treated her. Quite difficult stuff. And I was really on the spot then. You know how many people we know who work near our office. Actress with mascara running down her face, shouting at a producer? We know how that looks. If I had put her in something then I could have at least said she was upset about being left on the cutting-room floor but … Anyway. I told her we’d make time and I knew that Antonia and the kids would be away for a night in the next week so I told her, Come to my house then and we’ll go over everything. I’ll hear what you have to say and I’ll try to help you. But it wasn’t going to be a resuming of play. Nothing like that. Would you like a top-up?’
‘No, thank you,’ she says. She is struggling to keep a clear head, what with the effort of listening and committing to memory and the worry of hearing things wrong. And the heat. Oh, the heat.
‘I think I might.’ Matthew returns to the cabinet and drains his glass before adding another splash then taking his seat again. ‘Amber came over and she seemed rather sanguine about everything. We agreed that we had had some good times together but that it could never have gone anywhere. I told her that I thought she needed more than I could offer and she actually agreed with that. I made us some food, we had some drinks. And, God, I just felt so relieved about the whole thing. I’d really worried she was going to turn out like some kind of crazy stalker, hounding me, but she was very charming. It was like she wasn’t trying so hard any more. So I thought, well, let’s try and help this girl.
‘And we sat on the sofa and we drank some more and talked about movies and how actresses build their careers and what kind of opportunities there are out there. It felt constructive. It turns out I actually do know one or two things about the business and I was happy to share them. I don’t know how much we ended up drinking and I couldn’t tell you how long we sat there for. And then she made a pass at me.