Making Jane Proud

Chapter 17 - Spielberg, Woody and Ellie

"Spielberg? As in E.T., Close Encounters, Schindler's List - that  Spielberg?

"Yes."

"Holy crap!" Ellie was beyond amazed – Tom was going to be in a Spielberg  film! It was mind blowing.

"Can you take more?" He asked with a shy smile.

"There's more? How can there be more? What counts as more  than Spielberg?" He just smiled again. She took a deep breath. "Okay, hit me."

"I have to go to Paris for a few days in July to film a short scene in a Woody Allen movie. I'm playing F. Scott Fitzgerald."

Ellie needed to sit, right now, because her legs didn't seem to have any strength just at the moment. They were downright shaky in fact – and when she looked, her hands were shaky too. And now that she thought about it, she seemed to be shaking all over. "Holy crap!"

Tom laughed. "You said that already, love." He came to sit beside her, took her hand in his and raised it to his mouth to kiss her palm. "What do you think?"

There were so many thoughts jumbling in her head, some of which she didn't want to share just yet, some she didn't want to acknowledge even to herself; for now, she picked the thought he deserved to hear the most. "I think I was right when I said you are incredibly talented and that Spielberg and Woody are just the beginning." She smiled at him. "I think 2010 is shaping up to be a pretty amazing year. Congratulations Tom, that's...extraordinary. You deserve it."

"Thank you darling." His excitement was palpable; his eyes shone and the laugh lines around them looked almost as deep as ravines due to the smile plastered on his face that seemed to be a permanent feature. She was happy for him and tried hard to listen with at least one ear as he talked about the training he would need to do in North Hampshire through most of June and July, then maybe a week or two of filming in August in both North Hampshire and Wiltshire. He'd have the few days in Paris at the end of July and a play here in September, followed by another movie to film late in the year – a new screen version of a Terence Rattigan play, apparently, to be filmed in various locations around London. It was a dizzying schedule and she couldn't get her head around it entirely just yet, but...

"...come with me."

She only caught the tail end of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I spaced out. What did you say?"

"Are you okay? You're not having a hypo?"

"No, I'm fine, I just was lost in thought there for a bit. Sorry."

He smiled. "That's all right, it's a lot to take in. I was just saying if my filming dates in Paris work out with your holidays, would like to come with me?"

"Oh!"

"We would have a few days free after filming before I have to be back here."

"I...um..." It was all so overwhelming; she needed time to think about everything that was happening and what it would mean for them, to decide when to tell him about India and...

"Ellie?" She looked at him, his happiness slightly dimmed now because she was taking so long to reply and he might be thinking she didn't want to go. And she did want to, of course she did – she would challenge any woman to come up with something more perfect than a few days spent in the most romantic city in the world with Tom Hiddleston.

"Tom, I can't think of anything I would like more."

The smile was back on his face now and he drew her closer to his side to murmur in her ear. "Je t'aime, je t'adore."

"I...I didn't know you speak French." What she did know was the effect it was having on her – a shiver ran through her entire body and every nerve ending was tingling as if it had received an electric current; suddenly it was much harder to draw breath into her lungs.

"Quand je suis avec toi, le seul endroit où je veux être est plus proche."

"Okay, I know 'je suis' is 'I am' but I'm completely lost on the rest."

"They don't teach French in schools in New Zealand?"

"Well, it's an option at high school but France is a long way away so there's not really a huge demand. Most schools offer Japanese. Besides, the French haven't really been that popular in New Zealand since they blew up the Rainbow Warrior."

"What?"

She explained briefly, really wanting to get back to finding out what he had said. "The Rainbow Warrior was a Greenpeace flagship; they were protesting France testing nuclear weapons at Moruroa atoll and the French government sent two intelligence agents to sink the ship while it was at harbour in Auckland."

"When did that happen? I don't remember hearing about it."

"It was in 1985 – we hadn't even moved to New Zealand then, but my parents have been Greenpeace supporters for ever, so it's something I've heard talked about my whole life. Now, can we get back to what you said?"

"What I said?"

"Yes, the whole 'je suis avec' thing."

"Oh! Quand je suis avec toi, le seul endroit où je veux être est plus proche."

"Yes. What does it mean?"

Tom tenderly ran his thumb over a cheekbone and along her lower lip before saying in a quiet, deep voice that raised goose bumps on her arm, "It means 'When I am with you, the only place I want to be is closer.'"

Her insides felt like a puddle of warm, soft, squishy goo but she managed a breathless "Holy crap," before he kissed her and all thought was wiped completely.

---

Ellie slept not a wink that night. They'd made love twice, cuddling for a while afterwards, and Tom had assured himself that she'd reconnected her pump before he drifted off to sleep, but her mind was far too crammed with thoughts and worries and what ifs to let her claim her own rest.

She lay beside him for a while watching while he slept, looking at his features, each imperfect in its own way – his lips a little thin, nose a little long, forehead a little large, cheekbones a little sharp – but together forming a face that to her was utterly perfect in its imperfection. Resisting the urge to run her fingers over that beautiful visage, a soft sigh escaped her as she turned and got out of bed, drawing on her shortie pyjamas and slipping her pump into the pocket in the shorts before heading out to the kitchen.

Knowing that she thought things through better if her hands were busy, she looked through cupboards to find ingredients and made up a batch of toasted muesli bars, useful for taking to school. After that it was a loaf of gluten free banana and coconut bread for her friend Ashleigh whose mother had recently passed away and by the time everything was put away neatly and the few dishes she'd used had been washed and left to drain, she had made two decisions.

One, tell Tom about India today.

Two, put aside thoughts of separation and worries about a long distance relationship and just enjoy what time they would have together.

Of course, the success of number two rather depended on Tom's reaction to number one.