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Billy and Me, Page 29

Giovanna Fletcher


  So, here I am, standing outside the shop, with the new sign above me covered up for its grand unveiling, which will be the first noticeable difference the villagers will see in the shop. In front of me I’ve laid out a huge table, which is laden with cakes of all shapes and sizes, as well as dozens of big teapots, for everybody to help themselves to – at first, I thought I might’ve been being too hopeful and made too much, but now, as a crowd has started to gather, I’m slightly worried that I might run out of it all rather quickly.

  It feels as though everyone has turned up in support. Looking around me I spot Miss Brown, Mrs Sleep and Mrs Williams standing in a huddle sipping from their teacups and happily nattering away; they’re mirrored by the schoolgirls Janet, Ella and Charlotte. June Hearne, Mrs Woodsman, Mrs Wallis and Mrs Tayler stand at the table in front of me, all deciding what cake to nibble on first, knowing full well they’ll be coming back for more. I’m surprised at how happy it makes me feel to see all of their faces smiling back at me once again.

  Mum and Colin wander over to me after working their way through the crowd, topping up cups with more tea.

  ‘Are you ready, love?’ whispers Mum.

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘You’ll be great,’ winks Colin.

  I’ve always liked Colin, but over the last few weeks he has proven himself invaluable. His help has been priceless. I’ve enjoyed getting to know him a little bit better and understanding why there has been such a huge change in Mum. I have a lot of time for him.

  ‘OK … here goes nothing,’ I say, as I squeeze Mum’s arm.

  I pick up a spoon and teacup from the table and tap the metal against the china, grabbing everyone’s attention.

  ‘Hello, everyone,’ I say, taking a deep breath before continuing. ‘Firstly, I just want to say a huge thank you to everybody for your continued support over the last couple of months and for coming up here today. You have no idea how much this means to me. I’m so sorry it’s taken me a while to pluck up the courage to do this but –’

  I stop as a lump forms in my throat, threatening blubs if I continue. I look down at the ground in front of me and clench my jaw as I try to take hold of myself and my emotions.

  ‘Go on, Sophie! We’re right behind you!’ shouts a merry Mrs Sleep from the crowd, sparking further cheers of support.

  I look up and smile at the group in front of me who have walked up here to join me today, and hear the truth in her words – these people are behind me, as they always have been, giving me nothing but encouragement. I inhale slowly and continue.

  ‘Thank you. Sorry about that …’ I say, once I’ve composed myself with a few deep breaths. ‘Just one month ago we lost a woman with one of the biggest hearts any of us have ever known. I have no doubt that at some point in each of our lives Molly extended her hand of kindness to us. There was little that Molly would not do for people. In fact, I think in all my years of knowing her I never heard her say no to anyone. Nothing was too much for her, especially if she felt she was helping someone in need. She taught me so much and gave me, as well as you, a place to hide when life felt too tough to deal with. For me, the heart of this shop will always be hers, and that is why I have come to the decision to change its name. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you … Molly’s-on-the-Hill,’ I say, tugging at the sheet to reveal the new sign Colin and I have been working on – a white-polka-dotted pink background, with the name going across it in swirly black writing.

  As the sheet falls I hear a number of surprised gasps from the crowd.

  ‘Oh my!’ says Mrs Sleep.

  ‘Woooow!’ says Janet. ‘It’s beautiful!’

  ‘She’d have loved that!’ calls June.

  Miss Brown is the first to start the clapping, which spreads across the group.

  ‘To Molly!’ shouts Mum.

  ‘To Molly!’ we all chorus back, holding our teacups and cakes up to the heavens.

  28

  Sprawled out on the living room floor with pots of glitter, rolls of ribbon, bows, pipe cleaners, glue, buttons and pens surrounding me or resting on my lap, so that it’s all within hand’s reach, I’m putting together some more home-made gifts.

  I’m currently working on the heart-shaped plaques Colin and I have been carving lately, decorating the edges of them before carefully writing some of my favourite quotes on the front. Now, in the most beautiful handwriting I can muster, I’m adding one from Little Women, ‘I’m not afraid of storms, for I’m learning how to sail my ship,’ which is exactly how I have felt for the past week of Molly’s being open again. It has been wonderful standing behind that counter and greeting people once again. At times, it has felt a bit daunting having to deal with the whole thing alone, but I feel like I’m getting there.

  Amazingly, the gifts have been selling as well as the hot cakes (ha-de-ha), which I’m delighted about, as I always believed they would. Overall, the customers are pleased with the little changes I’ve made, although I did have to cheer up a disgruntled Miss Brown when she realized her favourite spying spot had been moved slightly to allow space for the cupboard, meaning it had gained a few blind spots. I sent her home with a special lemon drizzle cake to apologize and that seems to have done the trick as she hasn’t moaned since. She has now found a new spot in the corner by the window where she can spy on the customers in the shop and those passing by – a double whammy.

  One of the highlights of the week for me, though, was when Janet, Ella and Charlotte ventured in after school and picked up a book each and decided to sit in silence for an hour and a half whilst reading. I couldn’t contain my joy at the sight in front of me and decided to give them all muffins (skinny ones, of course) on the house. I promise those are the only occasions on which I have given away free food … actually, there was Mr Tucker’s birthday cupcake too!

  ‘Want a tea, love?’ Mum asks, getting up off the sofa.

  ‘Yes, please,’ I smile, watching as she changes the television channel before leaving the room.

  Bernard Sharland, the presenter of the BAFTA awards, appears on the screen, hosting his own chat show. He is at the end of cracking a gag, which eventually causes the audience to laugh hysterically.

  ‘Now, ladies and gentleman,’ he says, trying to calm down the rowdy audience. ‘My next guest has had a whirlwind career. He was plucked from obscurity when he was just a boy and whisked to LA where he took on a life-changing role in Halo. Since then he has won the hearts of millions of teenage girls and scored big time at this year’s BAFTAs. Here tonight to promote his latest role in a new film adaptation of Pride and Prejudice – please welcome Billy Buskin.’

  ‘Muuuuum!’ I shout, quickly moving everything off my lap and running around looking for the remote to switch it over.

  A quick glimpse at the screen stops me.

  I watch Billy walk into the television studio, looking pale and fraught. His face is noticeably thinner with gaunt shadows darkening his features. He looks uncharacteristically sad and downbeat. I’m shocked by the change in him, at how fragile and unconfident he seems. I drop to my knees and crawl closer to the telly.

  ‘Billy, welcome,’ Bernard says, shaking his hand before they both sit down on adjacent leather sofas.

  ‘Hello, Bernard. Thank you for having me on,’ Billy says, rubbing his hands on his thighs with nerves.

  What is going on? This isn’t the Billy I know …

  ‘Not at all. Now, the last time I saw you, which was at the BAFTAs for those viewers who don’t know, you seemed to be on top of the world – you’d just won the award for best male actor!’

  ‘Yeah …’ Billy replies in a disinterested manner. ‘Crazy.’

  ‘And you’ve been incredibly busy since with the filming of The Walking Beat, right?’

  Billy doesn’t speak. He just nods keeping his eyes to the ground.

  ‘OK …’ says Bernard, with a frown. ‘Shall we move on to why you’re here? You filmed Pride and Prejudice last year – can you tell us about that time?
There were some amazing actors on set with you. What was the experience like?’

  Something in Billy’s eyes twinkles at the question.

  ‘It was the best time of my life,’ he says with a smile, as though he is remembering it as he speaks. ‘I’d wake up in the mornings full of excitement and anticipation at the day ahead.’

  ‘It is great when you land a job like that – it doesn’t feel like work,’ agrees Bernard.

  ‘No, not that,’ Billy declares, looking up at the host. ‘It had nothing to do with the work.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘It was all about my time in that quaint little village; the lack of worry, the constant warmth that I felt every day from the people there.’

  ‘And one person in particular? Sophie May?’ prompts Bernard.

  I gasp.

  ‘Yes,’ Billy says, eagerly. ‘Every day I’d look forward to seeing her and catching a glimpse of her smile. She can light up a room just by entering it – but she has never been able to grasp how special she is.’

  ‘Are things still on between the two of you? I thought Heidi Black was back –’

  ‘Don’t even get me started on her,’ Billy snaps, his face darkening once again. ‘I don’t want people to think the version of me that’s printed in the papers is who I am, because it’s really not. Absolutely nothing has happened between Heidi Black and me.’

  ‘You’re referring to the splash in the papers a few months ago? When you were caught, supposedly, in the midst of a passionate embrace?’

  ‘Yes, but we weren’t. I was set up and pounced upon. There’s absolutely no way I would be so disloyal to Sophie. I’m still hurt that Heidi put me in that position and used me in that way.’

  ‘It must’ve been tough working alongside her afterwards.’

  ‘I didn’t work alongside her. I quit.’

  My jaw drops. He pulled out of the film? When did that happen?

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. The most important thing in anything I do is being able to trust the people around me,’ he continues. ‘I didn’t feel I could work in those conditions. It wasn’t an easy thing to do – I had to go through endless meetings with my lawyers because there are so many legalities involved. In fact, there’s only so much I’m allowed to say because of that.’

  ‘I see. Where does this leave you now?’

  ‘If I’m honest, I don’t know,’ Billy replies with a sigh, his face twisting in confusion as he crosses his legs and starts to shake one nervously. ‘I’m not blameless in this whole thing. I played my part, too. I became selfish and egotistical. I got carried away with my acting roles, blurring the lines of what was appropriate and not, without a second thought for anything else. I allowed myself to become absorbed in my work and sucked into a life that is neither real nor satisfying. I ignored the views of someone I really love and …’ he stops and covers his face.

  ‘It’s OK, Billy,’ comforts Bernard as he pats Billy’s uncontrollable leg.

  ‘When I was with Sophie, everything started to make sense,’ he says, raising his head to show his blotchy eyes. ‘I realized that a lot of the things in my life were worthless. It was all just pointless. Sadly, since then, and especially since winning the BAFTA, I found myself getting more wrapped up in the whole thing. I reignited a spark for acting but that spark took over. I listened to more and more people big me up and tell me what a huge success I could be if I did this or that. I followed their advice, never stopping to question how my actions might affect others or what Sophie wanted.’

  ‘What did she want?’

  ‘Stability? To be made to feel like she was my world …? All the things she should’ve got from me without asking.’

  ‘And what do you want?’

  ‘Sophie,’ Billy answers simply.

  My heart seems to jump into my throat, as a guttural sound leaps from my mouth.

  ‘When I met Sophie, I watched as she gave herself over to people – offered her time, patience and kindness and never once asked for anything back. Whereas with acting, what do we do to deserve the admiration of all those people? Nothing. I’ve acted selfishly during my career, thinking largely of myself and nothing else, as most actors do.’

  ‘Surely you’re being hard on yourself, Billy,’ offers Bernard.

  ‘Maybe, but I don’t think so,’ Billy says, shaking his head. ‘I think I’m seeing myself honestly for once.’

  ‘You’re not thinking of chucking it all in, are you, Billy?’ laughs Bernard with a wink, trying to make the mood of the interview brighter.

  ‘Not forever, no. But I’ve worked solidly from such a young age – I think it’s time to take a break. Perhaps a year or two to experience the normal things in life.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘I think it’s time for me to refocus. Growing up I was so close to my family. They meant the world to me. But, succeeding in this business has meant that I have no time to see them. It’s made me think it’s acceptable to just chuck money at them. Does it make up for my absence or ease any guilt? No, it doesn’t. Love makes life worth living, not money.’

  ‘I’m sure a lot of the viewers would agr–’

  ‘Sophie was a far better person than I’ll ever be, because she has always put love first and I forgot to give her credit for that. Now she’s gone and she won’t even take my calls.’

  ‘If you could speak to her, if you could make her listen to you, what would you say?’

  I watch, breathlessly, as Billy dips his head and rubs his face while he thinks. He looks up with uncertainty, biting his lip.

  ‘I would tell her that my world is colourless without her in it, and that, from the moment I met her, she was all I ever wanted.’

  ‘Well, isn’t that romantic? I hope she listens to you, Billy,’ Bernard says, as he reaches across and grabs his hand. ‘Good luck with everything. Enjoy the break and be sure to come and see us when you decide to return to the big screen … please don’t leave it too long! Billy Buskin, ladies and gentlemen,’ Bernard says, encouraging the audience to applause, before moving on to his next guest.

  I switch off the television and curl into myself, burying my face in the carpet. My soft whimpers turn into mournful moans within seconds.

  I miss Billy so much, how did we manage to get ourselves into such a mess when everything should have been so perfect?

  I feel a warm hand spread across my back as I lie on the floor howling with despair. The hand slides up and down my spine, trying to calm me.

  ‘Sophie. I’m so sorry.’

  Was that …?

  I hold still.

  Waiting to hear the voice again.

  Wanting to be sure.

  For a moment, there is silence. Nothing, as I try to make sense of what is going on.

  ‘I mean it. I know now. You are all I ever wanted,’ he says softly.

  He’s here.

  He is actually here.

  Even though I’ve ignored him for weeks and told him I don’t want him to come after me, he is here. Confusion fills my brain. Small sobs seep uncontrollably from my mouth. Yet, something inside of me is glowing – expanding with happiness.

  What do I do now?

  ‘Baby?’ he pleads, as his hand comes to a stop on my back.

  I take a deep breath and slowly uncurl from my foetal position. I take him in – checking this is real, that my mind isn’t playing some mean trick on me. First, I see his feet, wearing the same purple Converse trainers he was wearing the first day we met, then his legs, his torso, his hands that used to soothe me, his arms that used to wrap around me. His mouth. His beautiful mouth … I stop here, unable to bring myself to look into his eyes.

  ‘How?’ I ask shakily, gesturing at the television.

  ‘Filmed it yesterday,’ he says with a dismissive shrug. The how is unimportant, what matters is that he is here in front of me.

  He takes one of my hands and rubs the back of it with his thumb.

  Not knowing what else to say, I look d
own at my hand in his as I try to make sense of the feelings stirring inside of me.

  ‘The shop,’ he says, breathlessly. ‘You did it. It looks incredible. She’d be so proud.’

  The mention of the shop and Molly causes a further influx of emotion and a swelling of pride in my chest. I’ve come so far. I’ve done something for myself for the first time in my life. And I achieved this even though I felt lost and heartbroken. I did it.

  ‘I’m so proud of you.’

  For once, I feel as though I am worthy of the comment.

  I look up into his eyes, his big, honest, chocolate swirls, and find a smile creep onto my face.

  ‘I’ve been a complete idiot, Sophie. I’m so sorry for not –’

  I pull Billy towards me and kiss him.

  I’ve had my fill of blame, sorrow and hurt. I don’t want to hear any more. Likewise, I’ve had enough of having to live without the people I love beside me every day.

  Molly once said to grab every opportunity that comes my way – on this occasion, I think I’ll take that advice literally … she’d have liked that.

  Q&A with Giovanna

  Billy and Me looks at the price of fame and having a relationship in the spotlight. What made you decide to write about this subject? Did you draw from your own experiences?

  Thanks to the media, people have certain ideas of what dating a celebrity must be like – some girls even claim that it’s all they want from life. All us ‘WAGs’ just shop and eat lettuce leaves all day, don’t we? Erm, no. In Billy and Me I wanted to capture a more rounded version of that supportive lifestyle. There are incredible highs, but there’s also the hurt, the insecurities and the loneliness to contend with. And yes, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t inspired by my own experiences at first, but that was only when I started. The novel had a life of its own after those initial ideas.

  What made you decide to set the majority of Billy and Me in a tiny village in Kent? Do you have a particular connection to this area?

  I have lived in Kent – I studied there for three years – but I don’t think Sidcup can be compared to Rosefont Hill. With Kent known as ‘The Garden Of England’, it seemed fitting to set my idyllic village there. Also, I wanted somewhere small and safe for Sophie, with a close-knit community, somewhere vastly different to the busy streets of London.