We went into panic mode. Henry called his lawyer while I phoned my contact at National enquirer. "You're printing a story which is wholly untrue, he hasn't slept with her, she's just a fan who's wishful thinking," I said without preamble. Ranchez, the journalist on the celebrity desk groaned.
"I did try and call you ten days ago, but you weren't picking up and you didn't call me back," he said.
"We were sailing round the Caribbean on our honeymoon. I could've given you a far better story, which incidentally, wouldn't have landed you with a lawsuit. You can't print lies Ranch."
"It hit the stands this morning Sarah, there's nothing any of us can do, besides, I've only got your word for it that she's lying. Maybe your man isn't telling you the whole truth?"
"Well, he's on the phone to his lawyer as we speak, so we'll soon find out."
"His lawyer?"
"Yep."
Ranchez went quiet. He knew full well that stars didn't involve their lawyers unless a lie had been printed. I wondered how much he'd paid for the story. "Print a retraction on your website, and an apology in next week's magazine, and I'll see if I can calm him down. I'm not promising anything though."
"My boss'l go nuts. He'll tell me to stand by my story."
"If that's the case, expect a writ this week," I snapped. "Tell your boss we're prepared to go the whole way."
I slammed down the phone and went online. I checked all the fan sites. It was being mentioned, but not really believed, due to the events leading up to the attack having been printed in such detail. They were dismissing the story as the girl trying to make money out of Henry. On IMDB, they hadn't even mentioned it, being too busy ripping each other apart. I could see a pair of trolls were causing mayhem on there, clearly causing a huge row. I left them to it.
Henry finished the call to his lawyer. "I'm issuing a writ tomorrow. He's also going to issue to the girl making up this story. As an employee of my gym, she signed an NDA, which even though this is a pack of lies, she's in breach of. Mr Bush always advises hitting hard and hitting fast. He'll get it prepared today. In the meantime, he advises no comment. We simply remain silent about it all."
"Agreed," I said, snaking my arms around his neck and kissing him gently. He softened slightly at my touch, gazing down at me, his beautiful face inscrutable.
"You do believe me don't you?"
"Of course I do. Now, I suggest we don't let this spoil our last day. There's a pretty, and private pool on our terrace. The sun is shining and the view is fantastic. He smiled and looked down my cleavage.
"Yeah, the view is pretty good from here."
Laughing, I smacked his arm and led him outside. We had a whole terrace to ourselves, complete with a small but lovely pool, sun loungers and immaculately kept garden. It was like Eden itself. Henry had mixed us both mojitos at our little minibar, so I sipped mine and squeezed his hand.
"This doesn't seem such a disaster with you by my side," he blurted out. "I'm just tired of fighting these fires, sick of everyone having an opinion or wanting a part of me. It just seems easier with you around."
"Team Cavill," I said, which made him smile. "Don't forget I share your surname now. If it affects you, then it does me as well. A silly girl trying to make a few quid out of a kiss and tell won't rip us apart. From what I've seen, nobody believes her anyway."
"Really?"
"Yes really. Someone on Who Dated Who remarked that she'd shagged so many of the trainers, she probably couldn't remember which one you were, and on datalounge, they're adamant that it was you shagging your trainer, so the girl must be lying."
He laughed like a drain. "Can always rely on Datalounge for some unbiased opinion."
"Exactly. Now, all the gay slurs, they've not upset you, you just ignore it. This girl's slurs are in the same vein. We know it's not true, and only my opinion on the matter counts."
He pulled me into a hug, seating me between his legs on the lounger, wrapping his big arms around me. "Only you Sarah," he said, kissing my neck, "can talk the sense required."
He pulled us both back onto the lounger so I was laying on top of him and kissed me deeply. For that moment, the world disappeared and only the pair of us existed, complete with each other. Scented breeze rippled over us as we lay in the sunshine, reminding ourselves that we were forever irrevocably joined both by love and by declaration. It would take far more than just a girl to pull us apart.
The next day we flew to London. Landing at Heathrow, a sense of relief washed over me. I was back on home turf, comfortable with my surroundings. Driving over to Henry's house, I had the feeling of coming home.
He insisted on carrying me over the threshold, claiming it was traditional to do it for a new wife. He carried me right through to the kitchen and sat me down on the island unit. "We need some welcome home champagne," he announced, before opening his gargantuan fridge and pulling out a bottle of Laurent Perrier. With practiced ease, he popped the cork and grabbed two flutes from the cupboard. We toasted our new life, our marriage and everything else, before sinking the pink, bubbly nectar. It was one of the things I loved about Henry, he treated everything like a celebration.
I was like a pig in muck being in my familiar surroundings. While Henry dealt with the pre-production details of Stratton, I caught up with all my old contacts and friends, lunching every day on somebody's expense account. As Henry's wife as well as his fixer, doors opened which had been previously closed, and I was able to really promote his charities in exchange for snippets of information about him. It never failed to amaze me how fans would lap up any bit of insight. When I accidentally on purpose let slip that he used lip balm, in exchange for a write up about his Marines charity, the fandom went nuts, with his Facebook pages running polls to decide which brand he used. He thought it was hilarious.
I noticed Henry had something on his mind, he was mulling something over for a few days. On a rare night off together, I'd made us dinner, which we were eating on our laps in front of the telly.
"Are you upset about something?" I asked, "only you seem very quiet."
"No, not upset."
I swallowed my food. "So what is it?"
"I've been thinking, I just keep mulling something over, but I'm not sure how you'll feel about it."
"Go on," I urged. I was intrigued.
"I really want a family. I'd like to start trying for a baby."
There is a new forum on which to discuss all things Henry and chat to other Henry fans in a safe, troll free place at http://www.henrycavillfanforum.com
Everyone is welcome to join, apart from my personal cyber-stalker. You can chat to me about Fixing it for Henry and also share any other fan fiction you enjoy with other readers.
