The Director's Cut by Js Taylor (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud txt) 📕

his head in frustration. “Not more than a few minutes,” he says. “The security on my laptop shut them down and alerted my phone.”

A little of my anxiety slips away.

“Then surely the chance is small?” I venture. “That they would have even seen those pictures. Let alone copied them?”

James’s face is like thunder. “Yes. The chance is small. Very small,” he says. “But even the smallest chance that those photos might be seen is completely unacceptable.”

James looks absolutely furious.

“We’re going to close this leak down. Now,” he says. The determination in his voice is intimidating.

He punches a few keys on his phone, and then turns to me.

“First, I’m going to make sure absolutely no information can leave Berkeley Hall,” he says. “Then, I’m going to resolve this leak.”

“You’ll need to go back to your cottage,” he adds. The distraction in his voice feels almost painful to me, in contrast to his earlier affection.

“I’m sorry,” he adds, seeing the distress on my face. “I’m just angry at myself, Issy, that I could ever have put you at such risk.”

“Don’t be…” I start to say, but he dismisses my words with a wave of his hand.

Ouch. I guess now is not the time to try and talk him down.

“You’ll need to head back to the actor’s accommodation,” he repeats. “I’ve changed the timings for today. And I don’t want people to see us arrive from the same direction.”

“What’s happening now?” I ask.

“I’ve scheduled an earlier meeting,” he says. “Everyone. All the cast, the crew, are due on the grounds in twenty minutes. We’re going to find out once and for all who is behind this leak.”

Chapter 33

I head back to the cottages with everything that’s happening churning in my head.

Berkeley Hall is a reasonable distance away, so I’m walking fast. I’m guessing all the actors have already received the call and are long gone ahead.

I near the cottages, wondering if I’m close enough to complete the charade that James and I weren’t at lunch together. And I’m just about to turn and take the path towards the meeting, when I see Carol.

She’s talking on her phone, and from what I can make out, she’s headed towards my cottage.

What’s Carol doing here? Natalie’s cottage is on the other side.

I watch her carefully. Something about her manner is completely different to usual.

I’m used to seeing Carol running around after Natalie, like a dogsbody. But now, she looks upright, confident and full of self-assurance.

I can’t hear what she’s saying, but the tone of her voice is different too. It positively rings with authority, like an executive doing business.

What a transformation. Is it just because Natalie isn’t around?

Carol reaches the door of my cottage.

Then she slows, looks left, right. And then straight in my direction.

I’m frozen to the spot, and she stares at me. Her face flashes with guilt.

We both stand for a moment, like rabbits caught in the headlights. And then I break the deadlock and breeze towards her, aiming to appear as though I think nothing is out of the ordinary.

“Carol. Hi,” I say, walking towards her and aiming for a casual tone. “Did you need me for something?”

My mind is whirling, trying to catch up with what I’ve just seen. Was she about to go into my cottage?

“Oh, hello, Issy. I’m arranging some things for Natalie.”

As she speaks, Carol seems to collapse into her old subordinate self. Her shoulders sag, and her voice quavers a little.

“Ok. I’m just picking up a sweater.” I walk past her and push open the door to my cottage.

I’m keeping my voice light, but we both know I’ve seen something I shouldn’t.

“Yes, it is a lot cooler in England than Barcelona,” replies Carol. She waves her hand. “I’ll see you later, Isabella.”

As I duck into my cottage, my heart is pounding.

What does this mean? Was she snooping for information? Is Carol the leak?

I have no real evidence to suspect her. But I’ve no other reason to attribute to her strange behaviour either.

I grab a sweater, trying to work through what I’ve seen. It occurs to me suddenly, that if Carol is the leak, she could even be dangerous. What if she’s waiting outside for me, desperate to make sure I don’t report her suspicious behaviour?

I take out my mobile phone. No reception. Damn. My previous affection for the countryside evaporates instantly. I can’t call James and tell him what I’ve seen.

I stare at the cottage door for a long moment, before deciding I don’t have a choice.

I can’t cower in here indefinitely. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step out quickly.

Outside is green lawns, stone cottages, and nothing else. Carol seems to have completely vanished.

Momentarily relieved, I set off at a jog for the meeting place. I need to tell James about what I just saw. As soon as possible.

By the time I arrive, James has already gathered everyone together and begun speaking.

Crap. I can hardly interrupt him.

I try and calm myself. James told you Berkeley Estate was secure. It’s not like press can get in here.

This makes me feel slightly better. When James has finished speaking, I can tell him about Carol’s suspicious behaviour.

“Thank you all for coming at short notice,” James is saying.

The crew and actors make up around thirty people, and I see that Natalie is one of them. Carol isn’t here.

I catch sight of Callum and Will, but they’re too near the front for me to join. The hair and make-up girls are also in the group. And I recognise David, the props handler.

“I’m sure by now,” adds James, “you know what’s been going on.”

There is an uncomfortable shifting, in the atmosphere of the assembled people. I hear some whisper words like ‘leak’ and ‘press’.

“Someone has been calling the press with information,” continues James. “And the information they are supplying could be very damaging. To all of us.”

His eyes flare at this last part, and then his voice softens.

“I don’t need to tell most of you that