Devoted: The Blackwell Lessons Part 23

At one point, an extra can't get off his horse because his chain mail is so heavy. Baz lifts him off with one hand.

We end the day with a takeaway curry, poppadums, naan bread and beer on the steps of the Tower of London to celebrate another great day of filming.

I don't drink the beer, but Leo and Baz do, getting through five bottles each before we've even finished our meal.

'Carry on at that pace boys and you won't be fit for work tomorrow,' says Nadia.

'Rubbish,' says Baz. 'I have at least five pints most nights. And I can still outpace the lot of you.'

When Marc picks me up and takes me back to the townhouse, the first thing I want to do is have s.e.x in the swing. And Marc is only too happy to oblige.

'Is it wrong that tying you down turns me on?' Marc asks.

'Not as long as I'm enjoying it.'

We have s.e.x every way possible, on my back, on my stomach, with Marc taking charge the whole time.

When I'm tired out, Marc carries me to the bedroom and lays me gently on the bed. He lies beside me and strokes my hair until I fall asleep.

40.

Making a movie soon feels normal and before long I get into a rhythm. On set at 6am. Breakfast of porridge and berries, followed by a hot chocolate. Hair and makeup. Then shooting begins although there's lots of sitting around too.

My scenes are pretty physical at times, and I love acting terrified as I run away from pretend monsters that will be CGI'd in later.

The cast and crew usually eat together at the end of the day, and it's good to spend time together. It feels sort of like a family.

Sigourney is pretty difficult though; always complaining about the food, her makeup, the way her scenes are shot. But I have to admit she's a good actress. I suppose acting and modelling are similar. Certainly in the physical scenes Sigourney gives it her all, throwing herself around and getting real bruises. I see a new side of her a determined, focused side that won't stop until the job is done properly.

I think Nadia must have had a word with her about lateness too, because she's mainly on time, give or take ten minutes or so, although she does look pretty hung-over most mornings and always arrives wearing big, black sungla.s.ses.

Ruby is really down to earth and lots of fun. She doesn't take herself too seriously, but at the same time she's very professional and gets Nadia's vision straight away.

It takes me a few scenes to really understand what Nadia is looking for, but then everything clicks into place.

Time goes so quickly that my doctor's appointment creeps up almost without me noticing. But suddenly it's upon me, and I wake up afraid.

I see Marc beside me in bed, wide awake.

'Do you actually fall asleep?' I ask. 'Or do you just stay propped up on one elbow all night, waiting for me to wake up?'

'I sleep.'

'Are you nervous about today?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'Because it's good news either way. If you're not pregnant, I don't have to worry about your rigid filming schedule. And if you are pregnant ... well, I think you'll be very happy.'

'And what about you?'

'Let's get to the doctor's shall we? We don't want to keep her waiting.'

As we walk into Dr Christian's waiting area, I hold Marc's hand so tight that my fingers turn white.

'You have nothing to be nervous about,' Marc whispers. 'Everything is going to be okay.'

'But this is so important. What if I'm pregnant Marc? Our lives will totally change.'

Marc puts a comforting arm around my shoulder. 'Or you might not be. We'll be fine. Okay? I'll always look after you.'

'I feel a little sick,' I admit, as we sit on a plush leather sofa.

'Are you okay? Do you need the bathroom?'

I shake my head. 'Not really sick. Just ... nervous sick. Don't you ever feel sick when you're nervous?'

'I don't get nervous. I get angry.'

'Really? You never feel nervous?'

'No. I feel afraid. At the thought of anything happening to you. But nervous? No.'

I nod limply, looking at the doctor's office door.

'Sophia,' says Marc. 'You are a perfectly healthy, beautiful young woman who may or may not be about to have a baby. Once the not knowing is out of the way, you'll be fine. Either way.'

A thought occurs to me and my stomach lurches. 'Marc. The swing ... you don't think ... if I were pregnant ...'

'You don't think I checked it out? s.e.x is perfectly okay for a pregnant woman. All kinds of s.e.x.'

'How do you know?'

'Let's just say I did my research.'

The doctor's door snaps open and my stomach lurches again.

'It's okay,' Marc whispers. 'You'll be just fine.'

Dr Christian greets us warmly. She's wearing a pink Chanel trouser suit, which sets off her green eyes and white perfectly.

We take a seat, and I twiddle my hair.

'How have you been Sophia?' Dr Christian asks. 'Any tiredness? Sickness?'

'I'm sick with nerves right now,' I admit. 'But other than that I've been okay.' I glance at Marc. 'And not all that tired. Most of the time.'

Dr Christian smiles. 'I hear you've been shooting a movie. The next Nadia Malbeck movie isn't it? So you must be working hard.'

'It's actually okay,' I say. 'Everything is CGI'd, so mostly I just react to things. No stunts or anything. Marc made sure of that.'

'I'm pleased to hear it,' says Dr Christian. 'You wouldn't want to take any chances. Just in case.'

'Do you think I'm pregnant?' I blurt out, hearing the slight desperation in my voice.

'Let's find out shall we. Here.' She reaches into her drawer and pa.s.ses me a pregnancy test. 'You know the drill by now. I'll see you in a minute.'

41.

I'm so nervous that it's hard to wee. But somehow I manage it and bring the test back to Dr Christian.

'You really are nervous aren't you?' says Dr Christian kindly, noticing my shaking fingers.

'Petrified.'

'Any particular reason?'

'I suppose I'll just feel so disappointed if I'm not pregnant.'

'You can always keep trying,' says Dr Christian with a wink. 'You're young. Healthy. No problems. There's no rush Sophia. It'll happen when it happens. Besides, if you're shooting a movie right now there's no harm in waiting. Take a seat.'

I sit down. 'I know. That's what Marc says too.'

'Babies are a lot of work. When they come along, suddenly people start thinking maybe they should have waited a few years. As beautiful as children are, they change your life.'

'I have a baby brother. I know how much time they take up. But ... I just want to have Marc's baby.'

I feel Marc squeeze my fingers, and squeeze his in return.

Dr Christian smiles. 'Well. I won't keep you in suspense any longer. Let's see what the test has to say.'

Dr Christian holds up the pregnancy test.

I grasp Marc's hand so tightly that I'm sure I must be cutting off his blood supply.

'So the test is telling me-'

'Dr Christian,' says Marc. 'Would you mind if we took the test and viewed it by ourselves? Privately? Sophia will be emotional, whatever the result. And it might be better just the two of us.'

'I totally understand,' says Dr Christian. 'Of course take the test and look at the result when you're alone.'

'Marc?' I say, a little bewildered. 'Don't we want to find out now?'

'We've waited for weeks. We can wait a little longer.'

'How much longer?'

'Not long. I know you're desperate to know but ... just trust me.'

Part of me wants to grab the test from Dr Christian. But I do trust Marc. So I take his hand instead.

'Let me put the test back in the box for you.' Dr Christian slides the test into a white cardboard box and hands it to Marc. 'The instructions are inside.'

I stare at the box, knowing that our future is in there on a little plastic stick.

'Thank you Dr Christian,' says Marc, standing. 'If it's good news I'll have Rodney check Sophia's diary and schedule in her maternity appointments.'

'Fine,' says Dr Christian.

42.

'Okay,' I say, as Marc leads me outside to the Aston Martin. 'Why couldn't we look at the test in there? Did you think I'd burst into tears or something?'

'I just thought ... this is between us, this news. If you're happy, I want to celebrate together. And if you're upset, I want to be able to comfort you alone.'

'I appreciate that.'

Once in the car, we speed towards Oxford Street.

'Aren't we going back to the townhouse?' I ask.

'No.'