Billy and Me (12 page)

Going out after the show becomes a regular occurrence for Billy and his cast mates, and one that is usually spontaneous. Being up on stage in front of a live audience gives him such a buzz he needs time to wind down afterwards before coming home to sleep.

The majority of the time he just stays for one or two drinks with the cast, or has a late dinner with Paul if he’s been in to see the show with some bigwig casting director/producer/director, and comes straight home, rolling in at around midnight. But there are also nights when the party continues back at someone’s house and he doesn’t get home until a ridiculous time in the morning. I’m thankful that Billy hasn’t invited everyone back to ours again, but nights like this are sleepless and restless ones nonetheless. Most of the time he calls and texts to let me know his plans, but sometimes he gets carried away and forgets. On those nights, I lie awake and wonder where he is, what he’s up to and when he is going to come home.

Who he might be out with is the thing that worries me the most. Is he just out with Paul or the boys from the cast? Or is he with the whole cast and being overly affectionate with Ruth again? Or, and this is the thought that niggles at me the most, is he being propositioned
by random girls? In London it’s impossible to forget that Billy is such a heart-throb – he can rarely go anywhere unnoticed. I regularly witness the reaction from girls as they recognize Billy on the street. Their eyes light up and are instantly filled with desire – even if he has his arms wrapped around me, his girlfriend. I know, without doubt, that there are a whole bunch of women (and men) who would happily throw themselves at Billy if they had the chance. The thought of it happening while I’m sitting at home waiting for him makes me feel anxious and sick.

Sometimes, when I can feel myself starting to panic, I call or text him. Just once or twice, not the millions of times I’d like to try until he picks up. Although saying that, he usually picks up or replies straight away, immediately eliminating any fear that was mounting in me – making me feel silly for being dubious of the situation.

I don’t join Billy on his nights out and am asleep (or pretending to sleep) by the time he decides to venture home. Even though we have a brief chat before I leave for work in the mornings, he is usually in bed, and occasionally still has his eyes closed, eager to fall back to sleep as soon as I leave. The conversation is hardly riveting and extremely one-sided.

One thing that Billy has started doing is meeting me after I finish work so that we can go out for dinner together – a quick bite to eat with a catch-up before he rushes off to the theatre for another show.

The evenings remain difficult. Those hours where I
feel lost in an unknown place. I become agitated and uncomfortable, unsure what to do with myself before it’s a reasonable time to go to bed. I potter about aimlessly beforehand.

I’ve even stopped making cakes every night for us to munch on when Billy gets in – there’s no point if he isn’t coming home to actually eat them with me. Occasionally, I do make a batch of cakes for him to take in to share with the rest of the cast and crew – which I know Fiona (the raspberry Pavlova scoffer) enjoys. But that’s it.

I won’t lie, I find it all quite depressing and feel we’d have spent more quality time together if I hadn’t made the move to London after all. I see less of him now that I’ve changed my life to be with him than I did when I was living a contented life in Rosefont Hill.

I keep reminding myself that a snippet of time spent with each other is better than none whatsoever. But it sucks.

I can’t wait for this show to finish – then I might get my boyfriend back.

Sundays are usually our one day to be together, so we usually do nothing and completely chill out. However, today we have invited Mum and Molly over, so that they can see where we live at last.

Mum used to drive when I was younger, but hasn’t for years, so, rather than them having the hassle of getting on the train and changing to get on the tube and so on, Billy decided to order them a car and chauffeur for
the day. I thought it was an extremely sweet gesture and I knew they’d love it. I wish I could have been there to see the looks on their faces when the baby pink limousine turned up. It was Billy’s idea to get one, playing on the whole movie star thing with an added girlie flourish. We know they found it funny because they used the built-in car phone to call us in hysterics straight away. Apparently, Molly was sticking her head out of the sunroof while the car was in stationary traffic, and trying to persuade Mum to join her, much to Mum’s embarrassment.

I’m wiping down the kitchen surfaces, in a last-minute attempt to make the place spotless, when they knock, so Billy greets them at the door. I smile as I overhear a mixture of laughter and hellos as Billy welcomes them in and guides them to me in the kitchen.

‘Oh darling, I’ve missed you so much,’ squeals Mum, running in to give me a big squeeze.

‘Oh, isn’t this lovely!’ coos Molly as she walks in behind her, looking around the flat.

‘You’ve cut your hair off!’ I say in surprise, noticing her new shorter do which is standing on end following her windy limo adventure.

Molly combs her fingers through it and shakes it about wildly, making it go fluffier.

‘That’s right! I’ve always thought about it, but never done it. So I just took the scissors to it one day and watched it all drop to the floor. It was wonderfully liberating.’

We all just stare at her in shock. I’m guessing Mum didn’t know that she’d given herself the chop either, as she looks just as surprised as Billy and me.

‘You cut it yourself?’ I ask.

‘Yes … it looks OK, doesn’t it?’ she asks, turning from side to side to give us all a better view.

‘Yes, of course, gorgeous as always.’

‘You, on the other hand, missy!’ says Molly, as she walks over to me and grabs my waist. ‘Where have you disappeared to? Is he not feeding you?’ she says, glaring at Billy, causing him to laugh.

‘Don’t blame me!’ Billy says, putting his hands innocently in the air.

‘I think it’s not having our cakes to nibble on every day,’ I say with a shrug. ‘The Coffee Matters treats aren’t quite as tempting.’

‘I bet!’ squeaks Molly. ‘But you’d better start eating them – you don’t want scrawny arms!’

‘I have told her,’ says Billy, agreeing with Molly. ‘She’ll end up like a matchstick if she keeps going.’

‘Hardly!’ I argue, rolling my eyes.

‘Men like their curves, madam,’ says Molly, shaking her head at me. ‘If they wanted to be with someone with the body of a boy then they’d have something wrong with them in the head.’

Billy laughs at Molly’s inappropriate and extremely un-politically correct comment.

‘Are you eating properly, Soph?’ says Mum seriously, failing to hide the concern in her voice.

It makes me uncomfortable to have them all stood
around me and fussing over something I wasn’t even aware was an issue.

‘Guys, I’m fine. I’m just busy at work and not eating as much blooming cake as I used to.’

All three of them just gawp at me.

‘What?’ I demand, annoyed that the day together has not kicked off quite as I had planned.

‘It’s nothing, dear,’ says Mum.

‘Anyway,’ I say, wanting to get the attention away from myself. ‘What would you like to do today?’

Both Mum and Molly shrug at me.

‘OK … how about a walk in the park? We could feed the ducks while we’re there?’

‘That sounds nice, love!’ chimes Mum. ‘Maybe we could feed the pigeons in the square while we’re here, too?’

I look at Billy, who is trying to stifle a laugh. What is it with our family’s need to feed the pigeons?

A little while later, the four of us stroll through Hyde Park with the warm sunshine beaming on our backs as we dodge the children, dogs and couples who have also decided to spend the day here. Billy and Mum walk slightly ahead of Molly and me, taking it in turns to play around with the camera we’ve brought out with us.

I slip my arm around Molly and squeeze into her, briefly resting my head on her shoulder.

‘So, tell me about my replacement.’

‘What, Sally?’ she asks, taking my arm and linking it through hers.

‘Yes. Where did she come from? What’s she like?’

‘Oh, well, she just wandered in one day looking a bit clueless,’ she shrugs, raising her eyebrows.

‘Kind of like I did, then?’

‘You could say that. She was looking at the sign I’d put up about you sadly leaving and me needing new staff. When I asked her if I could help she was a little bit tongue-tied, so I realized she must’ve been interested in the position.’

‘I see.’

‘She’s been absolutely useless,’ Molly says as she releases a big sigh.

‘Really?’ I ask, laughing, enjoying the fact that the new girl isn’t perfect and that I haven’t been easily forgotten.

‘Honestly, bless her little heart, but cooking, baking or anything like that isn’t her forte. I’ve had to take over the entire morning baking session through fear of her burning the place down.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘Yes … but it turns out she’s actually quite good with the customers. She loves talking to them and asking lots of questions and you know all the old dears love a natter. So, as long as everyone is happy, I don’t mind being in front of the oven a bit more. You’re just lucky you look all happy here, otherwise I’d be dragging you back with us,’ she jokes, tugging at my arm.

‘So, how old is she?’ I ask, still curious about the girl who has replaced me.

‘You know, I don’t know. I think she’s about your age,’ guesses Molly.

‘And where has she come from?’

‘I think she said something about an aunt living nearby and staying with her for a bit. Actually, I guess, other than knowing she’s a rubbish cook, I don’t know much about her. She’s so good at getting other people to talk about themselves it seems she hasn’t had a chance to tell me much about herself yet,’ says Molly, laughing.

‘Smile,’ calls Billy, as he points the camera in our direction, causing us to squeeze into each other and grin.

‘But you must have got a CV from her?’ I ask, once Billy has continued his conversation with Mum.

‘Nope … I thought I’d just give her a trial, like I did with you.’

‘Right,’ I say, a little confused as to why Molly wouldn’t have enquired about this girl a little more, especially as she’s not from the village.

‘She’s much more confident than I thought she was at first, mind, but, quite frankly, she’s not you.’

‘Aw, Mol,’ I say, leaning my head on her shoulder once again and putting my arms around her.

‘Anyway, petal, how are you finding life here? Is it what you thought it would be?’

‘In some ways, yes, but in other ways, not so much,’ I say with honesty.

‘What do you mean?’ she asks.

‘It’s just different,’ I shrug. ‘I don’t feel like I fit in
yet … I get up early and go to work, go back to an empty flat and potter about until it’s time to go to sleep.’

‘That doesn’t sound too different from your life at home.’

‘I guess broken down like that it’s not, but I feel like I spend so much time alone. At least at home I had you and Mum with me.’

I look up at Molly and see the concern on her face. It makes me wish I hadn’t said anything.

‘Oh, you don’t have to worry. I’m still settling in, that’s all. Getting used to the busy streets and hectic lifestyles that surround me,’ I laugh, suddenly realizing it’s best for me not to worry either Molly or Mum with my doubts about having moved here – they’d only be anxious for me and I’d rather not burden them with it unnecessarily. I’m sure things will be different when I’ve managed to get myself a better job and when Billy has finished working on the play.

‘Yes, I bet there’s lots to get your head around,’ she nods. Molly squeezes me tight before she continues. ‘I hope you’re enjoying it, though, duck, and not wasting all your time and energy in a thankless job. You’ve got to make the most of life and not let these little opportunities pass you by. Before you know it you’ll be old and wrinkly like me and wishing you’d done more. Just make sure you’re happy.’

An hour later, after walking several laps around the park, we’re all spread out on a couple of picnic blankets, away from all the screaming children and men
playing football. Molly and Billy seem to have dozed off in the heat, but Mum and I are still awake, soaking in the day.

Sitting talking to Mum in the sunshine, I notice that there’s something different about her. Her cheeks glow a warm pink, her eyes sparkle and she laughs freely, looking comfortable. She doesn’t seem to be caught up in the inner turmoil that she has had for over a decade and a half. She doesn’t seem so fragile. I grab the camera from my bag and take a picture without her noticing.

‘You look wonderful, Mum,’ I say, looking back at the image.

‘Thank you. I feel wonderful,’ she says, as she takes my hand and squeezes it.

We sit smiling at each other. I feel choked up at how far we’ve come in just a few months, after years of being helplessly stuck in a rut.

‘Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,’ says Mum, looking down at the ground, unable to stop a flicker of concern from appearing on her face, clearly finding it difficult to share whatever is on her mind.

‘What is it? Are you OK? You’re not ill, are you?’ I say with panic.

‘No, no, no, it’s nothing like that,’ she says, wiggling my nose like she used to when I was younger, which causes me to grin. She pauses, takes a deep breath and smiles at me as she says, ‘I’ve met someone.’

I can actually feel the smile slide from my face as her
words hit me and I’m overcome with numbness. She continues regardless.

‘It’s nothing serious. We’ve just been out for a couple of dinners and occasionally we sit together and read, or go for walks. You know … I like the company. It’s been so quiet without you at home.’

‘I see …’ I say, unsure of how to process the information. The thought that Mum would one day find someone new had never even occurred to me. It makes sense obviously and I’d hate for her to grow old alone, never feeling what she did with Dad again … but it makes it all so final. It’s a mad thought, I know. Dad hasn’t been with us for over fifteen years now and it’s not as if that scenario will be changing any time soon. So surely it’s only fair that she has company, right? Someone to listen to her thoughts and fears? Someone to make her laugh? However stupid it might seem though, I can’t get rid of the disappointment growing inside me.