Chaper 18: Mile High Club

I sat on little armchair in the toilet of Johnny Depp’s private jet trying to take stock of my life. This morning, I was a moderately successful barrister whose husband had left her on her wedding day, but who was determined to turn over a new leaf. At lunchtime, nothing much had changed. Ten hours later, I was the Chosen One, escaping demons who were chasing me so I would be ready for the Final Battle when I would either defeat the Master – whoever he was – or help him open the Gates of Hell – which everyone agreed sounded like a bad thing. Moreover, glancing at myself in the mirror, I had got through customs on a fake passport which said I was a pornstar, and the make-up-caked face that stared back at me wasn’t my own. I called through the door to ask if I might use the remover and moisturiser that I presumed must belong to Vanessa Paradis.

‘Oh la la,’ said Vanessa when I emerged. ‘That is so much better Mary Sue! You look wunnerful! More champagne?’ I took the glass. ‘It is ok we eat now?’ she said. ‘I am ravishing, and it is quite late, no?’ I nodded. She gestured loosely at a linened table hugged by fixed, leather, swivelling chairs. This was definitely better than EasyJet I had booked for an ill-advised surprise weekend in Copenhagen for me and my bastard demon ex-husband Gavin two months ago. I checked with his secretary that Gavin had no work commitments, but he still spent the whole time checking his watch grumpily. At the time I blamed myself for being a cliché and trying to turn my beloved into something he wasn’t. I was so stupid.

By the time I’d eaten smoked trout salad, and half an amazing steak, I was in a much calmer place. Food always does that. Also: two and a half glasses of champagne. The others had kindly done the talking, mostly about inconsequential things and mutual friends. Obviously I was agog, but I tried to play it cool. Early on, giggling about something surprising he’d said about Kiera Knightley, Ewan said, ‘Secrets, of course,’ he said. ‘You know that.’

I nodded emphatically as if to say, ‘Of course, totally, how can you even have thought my texting finger was itching?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he corrected himself, ‘I didn’t mean you couldn’t tell anyone. We’re not trying to replace your friends, it’s just that, until we’ve double-checked… We just don’t know who you can trust.’

‘We hate saying that,’ said Johnny Depp. ‘There’s nothing more important than friends.’ The others mumbled assent. ‘Your best friend’s Jen Duckling, yeah? Sorry, don’t be shocked, we have to know everything about you so we can protect you. We think Jen is what she says, I mean, we’re almost totally sure, but it’s hard. Look, we got it wrong with Gavin, even though we sent… Well. I’m not going to say what we did.’

‘You can’t say that to her!’ spluttered Vanessa Paradis, horrified, breaking away from eating for the first time since the food had arrived. ‘Mon dieu! Men!’ She looked at me, shaking her head. ‘I apologise for Johnny, he is moron almost all ze time.’

‘I didn’t say anything!’ protested Johnny Depp.

‘She is not fool! She can work out from what you say zat we checked out Gavin by sending him succession of beautiful and athletic women to tempt him.’

‘I hadn’t worked that out.’

‘Oh no!’ squealed Vanessa. ‘My apology.’

‘Gavin resisted a selection of beautiful and athletic women?’ I said. It was almost flattering.

‘No, no,’ said Vanessa. ‘He resisted nothing.’

‘Oh,’ I said.

‘We thought he was arsehole, not demon,’ Vanessa clarified. ‘We wanted to tell you, but ze Teacher said you must live ze life absolutely your own, mistakes also, until ze time came.’ She re-attacked her buttered potatoes.

‘Mary Sue,’ Johnny Depp began.

‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’m fine.’ I wasn’t, obviously, but one more horror in the day only added a small amount to the overall awfulness of everything. The adrenalin that had kept me going since Gavin was killed swirled out of me like water plunging through a plughole, and the weight of the day hit me like a blanket made of soft lead. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Is there somewhere I can lie down?’

‘But zere is ice cream coming! Wiz pistachios!’ I shook my head. ‘But of course. Johnny and I have ze room wiz ze children tonight, and over zere, zat one is for you. Ewan can sleep on ze chair.’

‘Oh,’ I said, flustered. ‘That’s wrong. I’m used to travelling coach. One of these chairs will be fine.’

‘It’s a double bed,’ said Ewan McGregor, wolfishly.

‘Oh la la! Do not listen to him!’ said Vanessa. ‘He is incorrigible, and he does not know when he should not be making zese jokes.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘Er, no, it’s fine. I’ll be asleep in three seconds anyway. We could top and tail?’

‘Really?’ said Ewan. ‘I think that’s one that even I have never done before. Is it where you…’

‘No!’ I said. ‘It just means that you sleep with your head at the other end to mine, that’s all.’ I looked at his twinkling eyes. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘You’re joking.’

‘Of course I’ll sleep out here,’ said Ewan. ‘You don’t have to worry about us, Mary Sue. It’s our mission to protect you.’