TEARS FROM THE MOON

Chapter 30.

It felt very strange, preparing food for a chef, especially when that chef was in fact Ashcroft Jennings. Ordinarily I would have been so nervous and really quite anxious even doing something as simple as making a bacon sandwich for him, such was my total admiration once was. But as I prepared the snack, I really had to congratulate myself on how far I had come!
I just didn't feel the same way about him anymore, which was really quite surprising.
Hopefully, one day I would feel the same way about Alan.

I now walked back into the lounge with the plate of warm sandwiches and gave a deep sigh to myself as I noticed that Ashcroft was back reading the script once again.
I suddenly grew quite annoyed mainly because I actually thought it quite inconsiderate of him to be doing so, particularly now that I had told him I was going to be leaving the film industry.

I firmly placed the plate with a bit of a bang onto the small coffee table in front of him and he glanced up for a moment before reaching out to grab at one of the sandwiches. He then looked on in horror as I suddenly grabbed back the plate.

"Hands". I demanded.

" What?". He asked in surprise.

I nodded at the script.

"I don't want greasy marks all over it". I went on.

Ashcroft gave a big sigh, as I now handed him a paper napkin.
He took it off me, almost begrudgingly.

" I don't know why you're so worried about it. You've already told me you're not doing the film anymore, so why all the fuss?". He said wiping at his hands.

"I just prefer that it doesn't get mucked up, that's all" I insisted.

Ashcroft sighed as he then put the script onto the sofa beside him out of harm's way and I then replaced the plate in front of him,
giving him a look of thanks with a little smile. I then sat back down on my Father's armchair and leaned back.

"I can't understand your concern over a few greasy marks" Ashcroft shrugged as he then reached out for one of the sandwiches, "I can hardly read this page at all. Looks as if you've spilt water all over it".

I frowned at him before leaning across to study the page in question.

I stared at it for a moment ignoring his offer of the other sandwich that was on the plate.

My heart now suddenly sank as I recognised the page in question.

It was the one that had been left open by Alan, just this morning.
The page that he had been looking at as he delivered his horrific, devastating news to me.
The page that I subsequently wept over as my heart was breaking into a million shattered pieces.
The page that had tried to soak up my sad tears as I tried in vain to make sense of it all.

The page that I had then tried to wipe my tears from only to leave a blue, inky mess on its forlorn paper, rendering it now almost completely unreadable.

Sadness now engulfed me from the memory of this morning and the very reason that I was now here.
I looked over at Ashcroft tucking into his food, trying to keep back the tears, but it was no good they were now trickling down my face threatening to land on that very page once again!
I sat back and quickly wiped my cheeks so that the man on the sofa would not see.
But it was too late.

"Why are you crying?". He suddenly asked.

"I'm not ". I answered quickly, looking away from him.

" It's only a few pieces of paper " He said.

" I'm not worried about it. " I lied. " Not really "

Ashcroft looked at me for a moment, then said: