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Billy and Me, Page 7

Giovanna Fletcher


  ‘Sounds nice.’

  ‘I’d also like a gift section – where we can sell home-made signs and little trinkets … Pieces that people won’t find anywhere else!’ I suddenly realize that my mouth has started to run away with itself. I’ve never shared this dream with anyone before, so I’ve no idea why I’m blurting it all out now. ‘What about you?’ I ask, keen to take the attention away from myself, rolling back onto my back.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Ah, right. I guess being an actor is all you ever dreamed of.’

  ‘No, actually. If I’m honest I never wanted to be an actor in the first place. I wanted to be a plumber like my dad.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘I was good at acting,’ he says shrugging his shoulders.

  ‘Nice that you’re so modest,’ I tease.

  ‘Ha, ha!’ he says slowly, poking me in the side and causing me to laugh. ‘I used to be painfully shy, actually. I was fine at home but whenever I stepped out of the house I’d go really quiet, so my mum forced me to join our local drama group to build up my confidence.’

  ‘And that’s when they discovered you were a talented genius?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Billy says with a shrug. I hear him inhale deeply, as he hesitates before continuing. ‘Once I started being offered more parts and earning good money from those jobs, it was hard to say I didn’t want to do it any more. So I guess you could say I just fell into it without ever thinking if it was really what I wanted. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, though!’ he insists.

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ I say, taken aback by his honesty. ‘I think it’s funny how life can lead you down certain paths which you wouldn’t have taken otherwise. Do you think you’ll carry on acting forever?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ he says, fiddling with a bracelet on his wrist. ‘I’ve fallen into this teen pin-up type role and it’s not where I wanted to be. I didn’t realize when I took on that one role in Halo that everything else would change so drastically. I wanted to be viewed as a serious actor. Not someone people laugh at,’ he admits with a weighty sigh. ‘I’d like to be acknowledged for my talent and I’d like to be able to pick and choose my parts so I can be at home more.’

  ‘Sounds nice.’

  ‘Well, family means everything to me. I grew up in a family of seven.’

  ‘Seven!’ I exclaim, trying not to give away the fact that I already know this nugget of information from my Google rampage. ‘I bet that was a noisy house.’

  ‘Yeah, it was, but I always had someone to play with or someone to talk to.’

  ‘How lovely.’

  ‘Yep. But now I don’t see any of my family as much as I’d like to.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Work. The stupid thing is, I flew them all out to LA when I was filming Halo so we could all stick together, but for the last year I’ve been in England on my own.’

  ‘Do you think they’d move back here?’

  ‘I doubt it. It’s a different way of life over there and they’re all quite settled. Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ he asks, propping himself up on one elbow.

  ‘Nope, it was just me, Mum and Dad. Tell me something …’ I say, changing the subject as I concentrate on the twinkling above us.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do you do this for everyone?’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Hang up fairy lights, bake scones and buy your date wellies?’

  Waiting for him to answer, I find myself suddenly nervous of what he might say, and immediately start scolding myself for asking such a pathetically needy question.

  ‘No,’ he says slowly. ‘Bizarrely, the girls I’ve dated in the past would have turned their noses up at this sort of thing.’

  ‘Really?’ I ask, not quite believing him. What sort of girl wouldn’t approve of someone going to such romantic lengths to impress them?

  ‘Yes, sadly they’d be far more interested in what exclusive restaurant or club I could get them into – wanting to go somewhere they could be seen.’

  ‘Keeping up appearances?’

  ‘Exactly. It’s all about how you look and where you go. They’d run a mile if I made them get out of their designer heels and throw on some wellies and then brought them into a forest and made them sit on the ground to eat. But that’s what I like about you. You’re not at all prissy. You’re real and lovely.’

  ‘Oh God,’ I squeal, letting out a chuckle. ‘The fact I’ve been covered in flour since the day you met me is why you’ve brought me here, isn’t it? Because I clearly don’t mind a bit of dirt?’ I cover my face with my hands as I let out a playful groan.

  Billy sits up and grabs my hands away from my face, forcing me to sit up opposite him.

  ‘No! That’s not what I meant!’ he says with a cheeky smile as he tucks some of my hair away from my face. ‘I mean you don’t care about all that crap. Being in Hollywood and stuff, it’s all about what designer brand you wear, what car you drive, what blooming ZIP code you live in – but that’s not what really defines a person. None of that stuff actually means anything,’ he says as he places a hand under my chin and lifts it up so that I’m looking directly into his eyes. ‘The first day I saw you talking to the old lady in the shop, and making her day over a measly forty pence, I admired you for having your priorities right. Little moments like that are what make life worthwhile. None of that other stuff means anything,’ he repeats.

  I stop breathing as Billy slowly leans forward and plants his lusciously soft lips on mine. All other thoughts in my head are quickly swept away, as my mind and body are taken over by the intimately delicious moment.

  A sudden urge to pin him to the ground and devour him completely swells through me, but I manage to suppress it … all in good time, Sophie May, I think to myself. All in good time!

  6

  The next few weeks whizz by in a blur with Billy and me spending as much time together as possible, which isn’t easy when I work six days a week and his filming schedule is hectic and irregular. But we manage, and happily make the most of any time that does become available. If he has a busy day of filming ahead, and isn’t required on set at the crack of dawn, he comes in before the shop opens to help with the daily baking session and so that we can work on his scripts. Surprisingly, he can now whip up a vanilla cupcake batch without any help or guidance from me; however, he still finds our chocolate and toffee layer cake a struggle. Other than that we’ve been surviving on late-night walks, proper dates on a Sunday (if he’s off) and phone calls … of which there have been quite a few.

  Despite him begging on numerous occasions, I have declined his offer of going on set with him. I already have to keep pinching myself over the fact that little reclusive me has bagged herself a boyfriend, so I think going on a film set and seeing people running around after him and pandering to his every need might be a little too much too soon. I’m happy just seeing him as the delightful Billy I happened to meet in the shop for a while longer.

  It would be fair to say that we’ve been living in a bubble … a wonderful, shiny, bouncy bubble full of romance and sickly affection. But as everyone knows, bubbles inevitably do one thing – burst!

  I stop in at Budgens on my way to work one day, a few weeks after our first date in the forest, to pick up some pink food colouring. Whilst walking to the checkout to pay, something from the newspaper stand catches my attention. My face. On almost every paper on the stand. My heart seems to sink into my stomach and I’m aware of my breathing becoming alarmingly irregular. I have to fight the urge to throw up on the spot as I slowly walk over and look closer at the image. It’s of Billy and me kissing outside the shop, taken the previous day as he left to go to the set. I know that because of what I’m wearing; I have a pink scarf wrapped around my head and a pink spotty apron on.

  I’m covered with flour and dough.

  I look a mess.

  I can remember following him out so that I could give him a quick peck without being watched
by Molly and the customers as we’re still trying to be discreet, even though most of the customers know, but now the whole nation has seen us.

  How could we not have known someone was taking pictures? How can they just take pictures of me and print them without my consent? Are they even allowed to do that?

  My eye wanders across the different papers as I take in their headlines, ‘Billy’s Sprinkle of Fairy Dust’, ‘Buskin for Love’, ‘Love in the Country for Billy Buskin’, ‘Billy Finds his Halo’ and ‘Bill’s on the Love Bus.’

  ‘Oh, it’s you!’ says Mr Tucker, the lanky, dark-haired manager, from behind the counter. ‘I was going to walk a few of those up to you later on. I thought you’d want to see them.’

  I turn and face him, not sure how to respond.

  He beams back at me expectantly with his hands on his hips.

  ‘Thank you,’ I finally manage.

  ‘Must be odd. Seeing yourself in the paper like that.’

  I nod, still in a daze.

  ‘Don’t worry, they’ll be moving on to something else tomorrow … chip paper wrappings and all that,’ he says, sensing my uneasiness at the situation.

  ‘Yeah …’

  ‘Well, look, you take a copy of each,’ he says as he hobbles around the counter with a carrier bag and starts to fold each paper carefully into it. Once he’s finished he turns to me and proffers the bag, ‘It’s on the house. My treat.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Although, don’t think I’m gonna be doing that every time or you’ll cost me a small fortune,’ he chortles. I give him a faint smile and leave as he continues to laugh at his own comment.

  As I walk up the hill I can’t help but look about me suspiciously as I try to spot any men with cameras hiding in the bushes – isn’t that what paparazzi do, hide in bushes or in cars? Spying on their victims’ every move, just waiting for their opportunity to snap? The High Street is, however, typically quiet, with only a few locals dotted around getting on with their own business, so there’s nothing out of the ordinary to cause further concern.

  Even though I know Billy had an early call time this morning, and won’t be waiting for me outside the shop, my heart still sinks when I discover he isn’t there. My guess is that he hasn’t seen the papers himself yet, otherwise I’m sure he’d have come to check I was OK or at least called me … wouldn’t he? Or will he be embarrassed being pictured with a normal girl with flour on her face, instead of some striking superstar?

  As I unlock the shop door I’m welcomed by the sound of the phone ringing, and I hastily rush across the shop to reach it before it stops, hoping to hear Billy’s voice.

  ‘Hello. Tea-on-the-Hill, how can I help?’ I say, my brain automatically giving the normal spiel.

  ‘Is that Sophie May?’

  ‘Erm …’ This catches me by surprise. Nobody calls here to speak to me other than my mum or Billy, and they certainly don’t ask for me by my full name.

  Sensing my hesitation the caller ploughs on hopefully.

  ‘This is Sarah Green calling from the Daily Star,’ coos the lady, her voice sweet and friendly. ‘I was just wondering if I could get a few words from you about your relationship with Billy Buskin.’

  ‘Sorry, I –’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be much. Just, you know, how you met and that.’

  ‘Erm …’ unsure what to say I pull the phone from my ear and put back in its cradle. Within seconds it starts ringing again.

  ‘Hello?’ I say, picking up with uncertainty.

  ‘Hello, can I talk to Sophie May?’ This time it’s a man’s voice, much firmer and more direct than the polite caller before.

  ‘No, sorry, she’s not here,’ I lie, as I secure the phone in its cradle once again, only for it to start ringing once more. This time I don’t answer it and instead let it continue to ring, although once it’s finally stopped it just starts to chirp again. On and on and on it sounds. I stand staring at it as it calls out to me with its manic, insistent cry.

  I decide to pull the connection out of the wall, and as I’m doing so I hear Molly walk through the door. I turn to her, the panic rising once more.

  ‘It’s in the papers,’ I say, holding up the plastic bag, before she has a chance to speak.

  ‘What is, love?’ she asks with concern.

  ‘Me and Billy.’

  ‘Oh … well, what do the papers say?’

  I stare at her with a confused expression.

  ‘I don’t know … I’ve not read them.’

  ‘Why not?’

  I shrug my shoulders, unable to give an answer.

  Molly stares at me for a moment.

  ‘Come on, you don’t even know what you’re worrying over yet,’ she says, as she takes the bag from me and sits at the table, pulling the chair out next to her for me to join her. She then grabs the papers out and lays them on the table in front of us. ‘Oh well, that’s a lovely picture, darling,’ she coos, as we start reading the first article in the Daily Dawn.

  BUSKIN FOR LOVE

  Until now Billy Buskin has remained single since his split from his Halo co-star Heidi Black several years ago, with many speculating he was finding it hard to move on from their relationship. However, while filming his latest offering, on location in the Kent countryside, someone seems to have caught his eye.

  Billy, who is currently filming an adaptation of the classic Jane Austen novel Pride and Prejudice in the little village of Rosefont Hill, has apparently been talking about the beauty (pictured above) non-stop on set, even hinting that marriage could be on the cards.

  A source said: ‘The last thing Billy was expecting to find in the country was a girlfriend, especially one who has nothing to do with the film. That’s definitely what he finds attractive about her, that she’s not a part of the showbiz bubble. She’s just a normal girl, who works in a café. She’s got good morals and she isn’t caught up with the drama of Hollywood. In fact, she had no idea who Billy was when they first met.’

  They continued: ‘Billy hasn’t been shy with his feelings at all. Sophie is all he talks about on set, and he regularly declares to us all that he has finally found love, as well as the girl he is going to marry.’

  The new couple were caught sharing a tender moment yesterday outside Sophie’s workplace, confirming that they are indeed an item.

  Billy has dated a steady stream of celebs and A-listers in the past, earning himself our Womanizer of the Year award four years in a row, but could a true English rose be what he has been searching for all along? Watch this space!

  Both of us just stare at the paper, allowing the words to sink in, then grab the next paper to read more.

  After reading the other articles, all of which use the same source’s quote and run almost identical stories, Molly turns to me.

  ‘You feeling better now?’ she asks as she gently strokes my arm.

  ‘It’s just so odd!’

  ‘I know, love.’

  ‘I hate gossip and now I’m the one being talked about.’

  ‘Well, it’s the nature of Billy’s world, isn’t it, darling? You just have to accept that this is going to come with it.’

  ‘Yeah, I just hadn’t even thought about it. I mean, I know he’s in the public eye and that people take an interest in what he’s up to, but … I don’t know. I didn’t realize I’d be a part of that,’ I say, giving a little shrug.

  ‘At least it’s all positive. I wish I had someone going around saying lovely things about me!’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Now, we’d better get on with some work, or we’re going to have quite a few grumpy customers. You still up for it today?’

  ‘Of course! One thing, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Can we keep the phone off the hook? It’ll just keep ringing otherwise.’

  ‘Oh yes, that’ll be fine. Although I bet June’s been trying to get through. She’ll have read the papers!’ Molly says with a chuckle.

  Half an ho
ur later the front door bursts open and in runs a red-faced Billy wearing what must be his Mr Darcy costume: black tailcoat, white breeches, white shirt and white cravat.

  I was wrong when I thought Jude Law would make the perfect Mr Darcy: Billy is breathtakingly handsome in this get-up and I am momentarily transported into a different time and place – one where I’m Elizabeth Bennet, perhaps?

  Out of breath, Billy spots me behind the counter and runs over to me with concern.

  ‘I’m so sorry. Are you OK?’ he asks, as he puts his hands on either side of my head, bends down and searches my face for signs of how I’ve taken the news splash.

  ‘I’m fine. I was in shock at first but …’

  ‘I’ve been trying to call you,’ he says desperately.

  ‘I had to take the phone off the hook because it wouldn’t stop ringing,’ I say, still flustered from the sight of him in his costume.

  ‘I was sat waiting to film a scene when I saw one of the crew reading the paper. As soon as I saw the headline I knew it was about us,’ he says quickly. ‘I tried to call you straight away but when I couldn’t get through I was worried that you’d panicked, so I just left and came here.’

  ‘You just left?’

  ‘I didn’t want anyone to stop me.’

  I laugh at the absurdity of it all. The laughter increases and I can’t stop, the more I tell myself that I shouldn’t be laughing the more it comes out. The laughter causes more chuckling; even the odd unattractive snort manages to escape. I feel crazy, but the feeling of release soothes me after the whirlwind morning. When I finally stop, a perplexed-looking Billy is just staring at me.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Sorry. I think it’s just the shock.’

  ‘Right … I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Billy.’

  ‘I know. But I should’ve warned you. It was bound to happen at some point. Promise me something: if it ever gets too much, or someone just turns up and you don’t like it – call me,’ he says, squeezing my hand.

  ‘Seriously, I’m fine.’

  ‘My manager’s been on the phone.’