Always With Love (24 page)

‘Thank you,’ I say, the sides of my lips rising into a smile. ‘You’re my new Molly.’

‘Careful. She’ll come back and haunt you if she thinks she’s being replaced.’

‘Ha!’ I say, looking around the room as if to check she’s not here now. ‘No, you’re right, no one could ever replace her like that. But until now I hadn’t realized how much I’ve been missing having a friend. Molly was always there for me. She was my first proper friend. Possibly my only one. There’s been a gaping hole left since she died.’

Without saying it out loud I think about Peter and have a further understanding as to why I felt a connection to him. The lonely woman inside of me wanted my Molly to confide in, and he reminded me of her so much it made sense for me to latch on to him. However, I hadn’t thought about just how much of myself I was giving over, or whether it was entirely appropriate when I have a boyfriend.

‘I’m such
a shit,’ Billy says, sounding beaten and weary as soon as he picks up the phone later that evening.

I decided to wait until I was safely in the privacy of my room before calling him back, not wanting Mum to know anything was the matter, and certainly not wanting her to hear that he’d been rude and disrespectful about her.

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ I sigh, the anger of last night having escaped me. Instead, I feel oddly calm as I wait for him to say more, perching myself on the windowsill and looking up my quiet street.

‘I was disappointed that I’m not going to get to see you for a bit longer, that’s all.’

‘You didn’t even sound like you wanted me over there when I first said I was going to look into it.’

‘What? Are you joking?’ he says, sounding taken aback by my observation.

‘No …’ I say, circling the yellow blobs on Mr Blobby as I cradle it in my arms.

‘It’s just difficult when you won’t come on set,’ he says simply, without any hostility or blame. ‘I understand your reasons and hate to think of you being uncomfortable, but I want you with me. It negates the purpose of you being here otherwise. Honestly, I don’t care whether we’re locked up in a trailer together for three hours or watching
the sun set in Malibu – the only thing that’s important is that we’re together.’

‘I know …’ I say in agreement as I think back to the argument we had when I last arrived in LA and wonder whether I’d ever be able to combat my worries and join him in that way. ‘I think I’d rather be back on that beach, though.’

‘OK, you’ve got me there. The beach would be more ideal,’ he sighs, last night still weighing on his mind. ‘You know I didn’t mean anything I said.’

‘I know.’

‘No, I feel I need to grovel some more. Don’t accept my apology yet.’

‘Billy …’ I say softly. Although I know he said some awful things I’m not exactly a saint. I don’t want him feeling too bad about the whole thing, even if I am fiercely protective over my mum.

‘I said things I shouldn’t have.’

‘We both did,’ I remind him, nibbling on my lip as I watch our next-door neighbour arriving home after a day at work in London – something that guiltily turns my thoughts to Peter.

‘Maybe. But you and your mum share something that me and mine never have. An equality that means you face things together without one of you dictating or stepping on the other’s toes. I know that’s down to sad circumstances or whatever, but I’ve always admired the love and friendship between you both. I don’t want you thinking I feel anything different.’

‘I don’t,’ I say.

‘Your mum and Colin have been nothing but lovely to
me,’ Billy continues. ‘And I’m the biggest idiot ever for spouting anything different. I just wanted to see you.’

‘Yeah, well maybe launching an attack on the most special person in my life isn’t the best way to achieve that.’

‘Duly noted. I’m so sorry.’

‘So you didn’t mean any of it?’

‘I was just being selfish and obnoxious because I wasn’t getting my own way. I’m frustrated, tired and a complete arse.’

‘Are you getting spoilt on those movie sets by any chance?’ I ask, poking fun.

‘Possibly,’ he chuckles softly, clearly not feeling out of the woods just yet.

‘I’m sorry too that I can’t come over,’ I say softly, feeling sad that I’m not going to be able to see him for another month.

‘It’s not your fault. Just one of those things …’ he says, sounding equally as bummed out as me. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. I’m needed back on set.’

‘Oh, right,’ I say, not having realized he was already at work. I’d been picturing him in his bedroom at the house.

‘Sorry I can’t talk longer,’ he says, his voice sounded strained. ‘Thank you for calling me back and not giving up on us … I know this is tough.’

‘It is.’

‘But I’m worth it?’ he asks, and I can tell from his tone that his mouth is slowly spreading into a cheeky and familiar grin.

‘Don’t push your luck,’ I smile back, thankful for him injecting a bit of humour.

‘Too soon?’ he asks. ‘Got it.’

When he eventually gets off the phone I feel momentarily lighter at having resolved the tension between us, but then I’m reminded that our issues go much deeper than a few angry words said in a moment of madness.

We’re together. An item. A couple. But in many ways we’re strangers. Torn apart by the miles dividing us and the fact that we rarely get to talk for more than a few minutes here and there.

Something Peter said when we were in the Indian really stuck with me, and that was how he couldn’t handle being in a relationship without having all the perks of them being there at your beck and call. I know I like to think of myself as independent, especially now that I have the shop, but maybe I simply need the comfort of a partner being in the same time zone as me. Saying that, I know once he’s back from LA for a few months I’ll feel just as wrapped up in us as ever. It’s the dark times we’re apart that we really need to focus on if we’re to make it work beyond the summer.

We each have separate wants, needs and desires, but is there a way of achieving those while ensuring neither of us has to compromise too much? Maybe it’s time for me to revisit the idea of what I actually want, and see where that leaves me. And us.

The following morning I start to understand a little more about Billy’s frame of mind as a letter, written just after I’d told Billy on the phone that I was going to go back over there and see him, arrives at the shop.

Sunday 3
^rd
April 2016

Dearest Sophie,

I was shaking my head at your last letter. Stop being so modest. You certainly do more than just keeping things afloat. What you do requires real skill. You and Molly created something that completely works. It’s brilliant that you can leave the business without it falling apart and it’s a credit to how much love and hard work you’ve poured into it. If anything the shop honours you in your absence rather than mocking you by cruelly collapsing the moment you step away from it and take some well-deserved time for yourself. You’ve built the foundations of a strong old tree, Miss May! Now own it.

Glad the new staffing is going well, but I’ll be back to claim my Saturday role in no time so tell Peter not to get too comfy. Although I doubt you’ll need him too much. Sounds like he’s a busy guy anyway. Saying that, hopefully he’ll feel inclined to step in again in a few weeks when you come back out. I know it’ll make you feel better not placing too much responsibility on your mum and Colin.

I can’t wait to have you back over here, because even though I
LOVE
the fact you feel you’ve had your Billy Buskin fix, having a Sophie May fix makes me feel lonelier than ever once you’ve gone. But maybe that’s because I can’t just arrange to fly over there whenever I fancy. Sorry that the pressure is on you this time. I’m sure it’s not always going to work like that. Well, take the summer – I’ll be all yours!

OK
, I promised myself at the start of this letter that I wasn’t going to say anything because it would ultimately make me look like a first-rate plonker, but it really bugs me that Peter gets to see you when I don’t. I know that’s absurd and ridiculous when I’m the one who’s chosen to be out here and he’s just Molly’s son, but I get this desperate feeling of jealousy when I know you’ve been together. I had it straight away when you first wrote about him turning up at the shop. I got that letter the day you arrived over here and it threw me off when I read your words saying how great it was to see him. That’s part of the reason I didn’t come get you from the airport, or at least why I didn’t tell you I wasn’t coming. I didn’t want to say something I shouldn’t have and knew I just needed a few hours to think rationally, because it got my back up. Then knowing that you were out for dinner with him last night – well, in my head I imagined it to just be you two having a romantic candlelit dinner, even though it was obviously a work thing and that others were there. No need to tell me I’m being ridiculous, I already think it. I’m just sad not to be the one getting to spend time with you … Well, it’s out there now. Not that I expect you to change anything you’re doing to cure me of my silly thoughts. I know I’ll feel better when I’m over there and can meet him. We’ll probably end up as best mates. ;-)

Anyway, Rhonda asks about you every time we talk. I think she’s seriously hoping you’ll change your mind about acting. Either way, you’ve got a huge fan in her. I think she’s used to her male clients dating highly strung girls. I think we might set up a fan club in your honour. Actually, we’ve already recruited our third member – Lauren. She keeps going on about seeing you soon. She’s doing my nut in. I’ve never been so jealous of that little brat. Ha!

Johnny brought Cherise and the kids on set yesterday. Gosh those kids are cute. Can’t wait for you to meet them. The smallest one just kept running over for cuddles. Johnny had to physically pull her off me at one point so we could carry on with filming. Won’t lie, it got me quite excited for our future …

Right, I’m off to bed. It’s been a long week on set and I’m knackered. Hope you realize how much I miss you.

Always with love,

Your Billy xxx

The section about Peter is, obviously, what makes my brain freeze. Seeing as the guy tried to kiss me by the time this was written, Billy had every right to have a problem with me spending time with him. I feel awful knowing that he’s torturing himself over these thoughts when they’re justified, and guilty that the meal out was actually, as he’d feared, just the two of us. I’d definitely made it sound like it was my way of thanking him for stepping in and helping out, but actually, it was him who asked me out and I was more than happy to oblige. I knew how it would look and I’d tried to avoid being made to feel like I was doing something wrong. Truth is, I’d known all along that it was a crappy move to make.

I guess Peter’s blunder was a blessing in disguise, as it’s certainly made me re-evaluate the situation and put an end to something that could have easily grown into something less innocent if we’d continued to spend time together and get closer, which is not an easy thing to admit.

People always talk about Billy being away and how hard it must be on me knowing girls are throwing themselves at him. I’m often asked if I’m worried he’ll cheat … However, it’s worth noting that Billy is one of the most recognizable men in Hollywood. If he were to do anything untoward I’d know about it almost immediately – take
the incident with Heidi Black. He told me straight away, of course, but it was in the papers just hours later.

Me on the other hand? Yes, I live in a community of nosy neighbours, but if I wanted to I could still be sneaky. It would be far easier for me to be the promiscuous party, but because I’m not the one in the limelight, people assume I would never do such a thing. That I wouldn’t risk what I have.

I wouldn’t, obviously. But thanks to Peter, I’ve realized just how easy doing so could be. Not that I think I should become a recluse and shut everyone out – lord knows I’m spectacular at doing that already. But life should be lived with your eyes wide open, not shut or slightly squinted to give you the view you’d rather have of the world.

‘Just got your letter,’ I say softly, as soon as a sleepy Billy picks up the phone.

‘I was having a moment,’ he says, gently laughing at himself.

‘You OK?’

‘I’m just missing you …’ His voice is filled with a sadness that I hate hearing. There are two of us in this relationship, and, unlike what I’d imagined, two of us finding the distance between us equally as difficult, just as Rachel had said.

‘Why didn’t you say?’

‘I always tell you I miss you.’

‘About Peter,’ I nudge.

‘Oh … because I didn’t want you thinking I was a possessive boyfriend. Plus, you should have friends. It’s not for me to tell you who you can and can’t talk to,’ he tuts to himself. ‘Sorry this is difficult.’

‘No, I’m sorry,’ I say, apologizing for far more than he realizes.

I momentarily think about telling him about the weekend’s events, but although I know we both value trust and honesty, I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve already brushed the whole thing off as ridiculous and unfortunate, so I’d hate for it to be blown up into something bigger than it has to be. I don’t want Billy thinking he’s got anything to worry about, because he really doesn’t. Not in terms of Peter and I. Although I hope the gossip has died away by the time he comes back …

Once I’m off the phone I look back to the rest of the mail the postman delivered first thing and find a letter from my solicitor, informing me that the tenancy agreement for the flat above the shop is about to come to an end and enquiring about how I’d like to proceed. Either I can offer a month-by-month rolling contract, renegotiate new terms or rent it out to someone new. I’ve not had to deal with upstairs before. Having worked here for almost a decade, I’ve obviously been up there (it’s a surprisingly spacious two-bed) but it was always occupied when Molly was alive. The current tenants, a young couple who work in the city and have always kept themselves to themselves, had only just moved in when the shop came into my hands and we’ve hardly spoken other than one time when I had to get the washing machine fixed. With so much to think about in the shop I’ve been happy for them to continue with whatever they’d arranged through Molly previously. I regularly forget they’re even up there as they’ve already left by the time I arrive in the mornings and don’t get back until an hour or so after I close up and leave. Even at
the weekends they tend to be out, so I’ve rarely bumped into them. It’s weird to think of myself as anyone’s landlady really, especially as they never call in for tea and cake, or cause any fuss.

I make a mental note to pop a letter through their door when I’m on my way home later and see what they’d like to do moving forward.

That thought is negated when I open the third letter – from the aforementioned couple upstairs, informing me that they’ll be sadly leaving at the end of the month for a flat in town. At first I feel a little sad at the idea of having to find someone new to take it on, but then a thought pops into my head – and it’s something I ponder over for the rest of the day.