Just a Fan (35 page)

Connor responded a deep, grumbling groan, making Biscuits' ears flick back momentarily.

'Ach, Beskets,' he mumbled. The cat continued to purr, then got up to find a more comfortable place at our feet. Connor gave another sleepy grumble, gathering me close again. Still half-dozing, I smiled, savouring his comforting heat. I began to think once more about my sheer good fortune to be here with him right now; if I hadn't happened to meet him on that fateful day so long ago, then I would probably be still alone in my flat, being neglected by Julie and harassed by Kate, getting gradually forgotten by the world. But now here I was, in Glasgow of all places, curled up beside the man I had never thought I would
ever
see in real life, let alone have a relationship with.

Feeling sentimental, I murmured: 'Connor?'

'Mmm?' he replied indistinctly, without opening his eyes.

'You've no idea how happy you've made me, these past few months,' I told him dreamily, eyes half-closed. 'I never would have thought that one day I'd get to see so much of your personal life...it really means a lot to me.'

When at first he did not reply, I thought he was asleep; but then, I heard him succinctly respond: 'Mmm...'

I didn't mind the fact that he may not have been listening at all - all that mattered was that I had told him exactly how I felt, and was feeling good about it. Drifting on the edge of sleep, and feeling in a confessional mood, I added: 'You're right, you know - the fame thing makes you really see who your real friends are. If I hadn't met you, then I'd still think Kate was a good friend...'

'Hmm.'

'That day when you came up to me on the bridge and I said I just admired your work - I was lying,' I admitted, eyelids fully closed now as I listened to the steady, even sound of his breathing. 'I completely and utterly adored you. It was pathetic...you didn't even know me, but I still loved everything about you. I thought I was going to go crazy. Every time someone said your name I'd instantly be alert, in case I missed something - it was awful, but I just couldn't help being entirely obsessed by you.'

Connor shifted beside me, and I felt his hand graze my cheek.

'Tha', Lilly,' he told me in a low voice heavy with sleep, apparently listening after all, 'is just how I feel about ye, right now.'

I stayed quiet for a moment, pondering this as his thumb traced my cheekbone.

'Yes, but you don't have any competition over
me
,' I countered. 'It's not like I have millions of other people who want exactly what you want...'

He gave a deep chuckle. 'Ye'd be surprised...' he murmured with a wide, charming smile. 'The number o' people who ask me about ye...ye're more well-known than ye think. I don't doubt that ye have a few admirers oot there - tha's why I'm no' so guid at controlling myself sometimes, when I'm afraid o' losing ye...'

I thought about this, not having expected him to say this. Me? Well-known? I supposed that I must have drawn
some
attention to myself, but I didn't think how much...

'Well, for
me
, at least, you have no competition whatsoever,' I assured him happily, kissing the smooth skin of his collarbone. He stroked my hair gently and then replied:

'Ye never had any competition for me right from the start, lass...'

'Really?'

'Mmm,' he affirmed, then drew me against his chest so I couldn't talk. 'Now let's get some sleep, eh?'

That morning, after the sun had properly risen and we had all eaten a very nice breakfast, Kathleen reminded us that we would be having visitors: Gracie and her family.

'Ah, wait 'til ye see Heather and wee Ewan!' Connor chuckled to me. 'They're a funny pair, for sure.'

'It'll be so nice to meet them,' I replied with a smile, then excused myself from the table, needing to go upstairs and tame my hair a bit before they arrived.

Out in the corridor, on my way to the stairs, I happened to walk past one of the long sideboards, upon which there stood ornaments and framed photos. Curious, I paused beside it for a while, and then picked one up. To my delight, it was an old photo of Connor, who at the time was aged somewhere between eighteen and twenty-one.

He looked so much younger, but still as handsome as ever, despite the fact that his hair was quite a bit shorter, making his ears stick out. He had obviously taken care before to clip away his curls, even though they seemed to still linger upon his fringe. Just like in the other old photographs on the sideboard that I could see, his smile was always a bashful half-smile, as if he was a little camera-shy. It was impossible to say the same
now
; he had gone to dozens of photoshoots, and looked so sure of himself in every single one. I smiled at the photo I now held in my hands. It had apparently been taken in this very house, and Connor appeared to have been unprepared for the photo, as he was leaning backwards slightly. Nevertheless, the expression on his face looked so natural, so much lovelier than all the photoshoot pictures he had posed for. The flash was shining in his eyes, making them appear lighter, bluer. The bright light illuminated each glossy, unruly half-curl on his head, and his mouth was slightly open, as if about to enquire why his picture was being taken. His parted, half-smiling lips exposed a glimmer of white teeth, and he looked absolutely adorable. I took in the look on his face, the slightly untidy collar of his shirt...whoa, those arms already had some lean muscle in them...

'Oh, God...' came an embarrassed murmur behind me. I turned and saw Connor had arrived and seen what I was looking at. 'My hair...what's this one doing
framed
?'

'You look lovely!' I countered, beaming. 'Even though you look even lovelier now with your hair a bit longer, you looked so...
innocent
then!'

I turned my soppy stare back to the picture. Connor laughed.

'Oh, no, lass, I was anything
but
innocent then,' he contradicted pointedly. I blushed.

'Well, yeah, I guessed
that
, but I -'

'No, I know what you meant,' Connor replied. 'But when I was at that age I was always with the lads in the pub, and getting into
all
kinds of trouble...'

I shrugged. 'Well, isn't everyone like that when they're young?' I asked rhetorically, meaning to reassure him.

But Connor shook his head, something dark in his eyes. 'Not really,' he said quietly. 'It wasnae only
mischief
sort of trouble we got into. I was always the first to get into a fight, especially when I'd had one too many. I'd sometimes come home bloody and bruised, or wind up in the police station for the night...and look at this.' He rolled up his left sleeve and showed me a malignant, thin white jagged scar right along the tender skin of the crook of his elbow. I gasped.

'How have I never seen - ? How did you get
that
?' I asked, worried.

'I'm no' exactly sure,' Connor confessed. 'But the others told me I had gotten into a fight with a guy who had a broken bottle in his hand. I only remember waking up in the gutter in complete agony, passing out again, then waking up a few hours later in hospital.'

'That's awful,' I whispered. I had always known that Connor had never given himself a good start in life, but I hadn't thought his youth had been
this
wild...

'Aye, I didn't make my parents proud
then
, I can tell ye,' he said heavily. 'I suppose that's why I've been trying so hard to make it up to them ever since. They've forgiven me long ago...' He rolled his sleeve back down, covering the scar up again. A small, humourous smile twitched the corner of his lips. 'Luckily it's no' that obvious...for some films, they'd send me straight to the makeup department to cover it if there was gonnae be a closeup and they were
really
picky.'

I smiled back vaguely, then put the framed photo down, still gazing at it musingly. 'But you look happy, there...' I murmured.

Connor put his arms around me from behind, and replied: 'People generally do smile for cameras.'

After the sobering little revelation of that morning, the arrival of Connor's sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew came as something slightly more uplifting. Only moments after Craig had opened the door to let them in, the house was filled with the sound of the two children's excited yelling as they ran through the corridor to find Connor.

Since we were in the living room at the time, they were quick to find us. The door opened and in came a small girl with a flowery dress, followed by an even smaller boy with short, dark blond hair.

'Uncle Connor!' the girl shrieked, ecstatic, running forwards.

'Heather!' Connor laughed, standing up and catching her as she launched herself upon him. 'Ah've no' seen ye in a long time!'

Her younger brother - Connor's nephew Ewan - seemed to have suddenly become shy after copying his sister's excited behaviour; he stood a little way apart, looking up at his tall uncle as if slightly intimidated. Connor swung Heather around once, making her scream with delight, then placed her back on the ground before smiling broadly at little Ewan.

'Are ye no' gonnae come 'n' say hello, then?' Connor asked him teasingly.

Ewan smiled shyly around the stubby finger he was chewing, and then murmured in the most adorably gruff accent: 'Helloo.'

'Come here,' chuckled Connor, drawing him into his arms. 'Ah've got someone to introduce the two o' ye tae...'

I smiled as he took Heather's hand and led her over to me, Ewan still held in one strong arm. Two pairs of bewildered, keen eyes stared at me.

'This,' Connor told them proudly, 'is Lillian.'

'Auntie Lillian?' enquired Heather, not taking her eyes off me.

'Aye, that's right,' he replied without even pausing to think. Noticing my blush, he winked at me in a way that was either conspiratorial or just cheeky - perhaps even both. 'Lilly, this is Heather and Ewan.'

I smiled at them. 'It's nice to see you!'

Heather grinned back, showing a missing tooth, and Ewan began sucking his fingers again from his lofty perch on Connor's hip.

'Theer ye all are!' came Gracie's voice from the doorway. 'Heather, Ewan - why did ye no' go 'n' say hello to yer puir Grannie first? Yer Uncle's no' goin' anyweer!' She saw me, and then smiled. 'Hi again, Lillian! Guid to see ye again - oh, here comes Malcolm...'

Gracie's husband appeared through the door at that moment; he was tired-looking, with a receding, mousy-coloured hairline. However, he did appear to be a quietly good-natured sort of person, and Gracie had enough brightness and energy for the two of them. Once all the introductions had been made, Kathleen entered and proposed that we all have tea in the garden, where the children could run around freely on the lawn.

As we all went outside, where the sun was shining quite nicely, I was amused by the way Heather and Ewan stuck to Connor. Heather jumped all around him, chatting animatedly about America, while Ewan put his small hand in Connor's large one, clinging to him like a limpet. I had seen the effect Connor had on children many times, mostly in the little "making-of" documentaries about his films; they all seemed unable to resist his fun, non-serious, laid-back attitude, and he in turn appeared to be very good with them as well, due to his natural knack for entertaining. While he swung Ewan up onto his back and chased after Heather with him into the garden, I felt an odd feeling come over me as I wondered: in a few years' time, would Connor be doing this again...but with his own children? It was a strange thought, that made my pulse rise and my stomach feel full of butterflies. I was sure any child of Connor's would be lovely...if he was indeed going to listen to his father's advice and settle down.