Billy and Me (19 page)

I spot Mum hanging out of the front door talking quickly to an ashen-faced man in front of her.

‘Hi, I’m Sophie,’ I say, peering over Mum’s shoulder at the visitor. ‘Do you want to come in for a cuppa? The kettle’s still hot.’

Mum turns to me, her jaw slackened in shock, not quite sure how to deal with the situation.

‘Erm … is that OK, Jane?’ the man asks, looking at Mum hesitantly.

She looks at me before she answers, studying my face to see if it’s a good idea.

‘Yes … yes, that would be nice. Sophie, this is my friend Colin,’ she says, stepping out of the way to let Colin enter.

‘Hello, Sophie, a pleasure to meet you finally. I’ve heard so much about you,’ he says, reaching forward and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

I smile back at him, taking in his rounded face and neat grey hair, his voice soft and kind. Yes, I can see why Mum would like spending time with him; so far he seems very friendly.

‘Shall we go into the kitchen?’ I ask, aware of the photos of Dad still on the floor in the living room and not wanting this to be even more uncomfortable than it already is.

‘Good idea,’ says Mum, giving my hand a quick squeeze, before leading the way.

‘I’ll bring in our teas,’ offers Billy loudly from the other room, letting us know he’s been listening in.

‘I brought this round for you, Jane,’ Colin says, pulling a 550-piece puzzle of baked beans out of the plastic bag he has been carrying. ‘It’s called an impossipuzzle, or something like that. Aaron, my son,’ he says for my benefit, ‘gave it to me last Christmas.’

‘Oh?’ questions Mum.

‘It’s highly frustrating as it all looks the blooming same, but I guess that’s what makes it all the more satisfying when you finish it,’ he adds sheepishly. ‘It took me days.’

‘Well, thank you,’ says Mum, as she takes the box and studies it.

I’m drawn in by the innocence of the exchange, happy that Mum has someone in her life to make such simple, yet thoughtful, gestures.

Silence falls on the room as we all stand awkwardly looking at the floor.

‘Oh, sorry! I’ll get you that tea!’ I blurt, turning to the kettle.

Before we head back to London, I walk up to my old bedroom and pack some of the photo frames and pictures from my wall, deciding to hang them up in Billy’s flat instead – his idea. It feels strange to take them down from the spot where Dad hung them all
those years ago, but I know I’ll benefit more from having them with me and being able to look at them every day.

Mum walks in on me and wraps her arms around me.

‘Thank you,’ she whispers.

‘Don’t be silly. You couldn’t have left him out in the cold,’ I smile. ‘He seems nice.’

‘He is.’

Mum sits on the bed and sighs heavily, letting me know she’s about to say something I don’t want to hear.

‘You really should call Molly, love.’

‘I will,’ I say with a shrug, not really wanting to talk about Molly now, happy to ignore the situation.

‘Petal, I spoke to her earlier and she feels awf—’

‘Mum!’ I moan, stopping her.

She sighs again, clearly disappointed that I don’t want to discuss the matter – but unable to leave it there.

‘Just remember everything she’s done for you. This isn’t her fault.’

‘I know, Mum. I know. I promise I’ll call her later.’

‘Well, don’t make her wait too long. She’s a good lady who is distraught at having let you down. Don’t make her suffer,’ she pleads. ‘She’s really done nothing wrong.’

I try to focus on the photos in front of me, as I pack them into a box, blocking out Mum’s words. I don’t want to speak to Molly yet. I know she’ll be feeling terrible, and I hate that Sally has used her in this way, but I’m just not ready to tell her it’s fine and that it doesn’t matter. Not yet. It’s already been such a heartrending
day, I’m exhausted, and I don’t think I could cope with another big chat right now.

Sitting in the car on the way home Billy takes my hand and kisses it.

‘You OK?’

‘Bizarrely, yes,’ I say, smiling back at him. ‘What a strange day.’

‘It’s been an emotional one for you.’

‘Yeah. I feel quite drained now.’

‘I bet.’

‘It’s good to see Mum looking happy with Colin, though.’

‘Did you find it strange to see?’

‘Not really, actually. They seem more like friends than anything else, don’t they? But even if they’re more than that, I think it’s made me realize how lonely this has been for her. I’m glad she has someone to talk to and look out for her.’

‘He seemed very caring.’

‘Yeah, I liked him.’

‘He’s widowed too, you know,’ Billy reveals.

‘Really?’

‘His wife passed away in her sleep two years ago.’

‘Oh …’ It’s tragic that they’ve both lost their significant others, but it comforts me to know Mum has someone to share that pain with now. Colin has clearly been the reason behind her new outlook and being able to look back at her life with Dad with joy, so I’m grateful to him for that.

‘Paul called when you were upstairs with your mum,’ continues Billy. ‘He’s been trying to get hold of me all day. I had a brief chat with him.’

‘What did he say?’

‘Nothing much, just checking that you’re OK.’

‘That’s nice of him.’

‘He’s had a few editors approach him to see if you’d like to share your side of the story. But he’s told them that seeing as they didn’t have the human decency to contact you before running the story, you have no desire to speak to them now. I think that was the right thing for him to say.’

‘Yeah! Definitely,’ I say.

‘He’s really fighting your corner.’

What’s this? Paul showing some kindness towards me? He has a business mind when it comes to Billy, always striving for him to reach the dizzy heights of stardom, but maybe somewhere in there he actually does have a heart. Maybe … or perhaps he just wants Billy to think he does.

‘Right, I just want you to read it,’ says Billy, a few days later, coming out of the bedroom with the script of
The Walking Beat
in his hands.

I look at him questioningly.

‘Why?’

‘So that you know what to expect …’ he says, biting his lip.

‘In what way?’

He shrugs, guilt flickering across his face.

‘Is this your way of telling me there’re a few scenes I won’t be thrilled about?’

Billy sighs, sitting down next to me on the sofa.

‘I just want you to read it all in context, if I tell you what’s in it without you seeing it you’ll just freak.’

‘Your words are so comforting right now,’ I say sarcastically.

‘I’m sorry. Just remember it’s an amazing script with a brilliant director, who will film it in an arty way. It’s going to look more classy and less like porn.’

‘What?’

‘Argh! See? I’m not good at explaining it,’ he moans, covering his eyes with his hands. ‘I just want you to think of it as more of a mechanical thing, rather than something with feelings involved. Just read it, please?’

‘Fine!’ I say grumpily, turning the first page, irritated as Billy continues to just sit on the sofa, staring at me as I go to read it. ‘Are you just going to watch me?’

‘Sorry,’ he says, breaking away and getting up off the sofa. ‘Actually, Paul wanted me to drop by and sign some papers. I might as well go do that quickly while you read this.’

‘OK.’

‘Love you,’ he shouts as he walks out of the door.

I don’t have to read very far into the script to find the first ‘love’ scene, in fact the film opens with one, and it makes me want to vomit.

APRIL, 1971, LONDON, ENGLAND

INT. STAN’S HOTEL ROOM

The door of a hotel room bashes open, in wades
STAN BAR – A DANGEROUSLY SEXY ROCK STAR IN HIS LATE TWENTIES
– with a woman –
MEGAN REACH
,
EARLY TWENTIES
– wrapped around his waist. He carries her into the room and slams the door behind them in haste. The pair grab at each other longingly, exploring each other’s mouths, writhing around in excitement.

Stan throws Megan on to the bed, away from him, slowing down the process. He picks up a packet of cigarettes from the side, pulls one out and lights it, taking a deep drag. The pair hold eye contact throughout, as though this is part of the foreplay. Stan unbuttons
his shirt and lets it drop to the floor, revealing his toned body. He takes another drag and watches Megan and waits for her as she does the same. Stan looks at Megan’s bra, raising his eyebrows slightly, telling her to take it off. She does so, freeing her breasts. She looks at him expectantly, nibbling her lip in excitement at what’s to come. With one hand Stan unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his trousers causing them to drop. Without waiting for Megan’s next move he lowers his pants. Close-up of Megan’s eyes as they widen with delight. She quickly removes her skirt, leaving her in just her knickers. She leans back on the bed, arching her back, her eyes begging Stan to come to her. He walks towards the foot of the bed, takes another drag and removes the cigarette, holding it in his hand. Using his one free hand he slides his palm up Megan’s leg, stopping occasionally to tease her, their breathing gets more laboured the higher he goes. Holding eye contact still, he lowers her knickers, inch by inch. Once they’re off he discards them on the floor and puts out his cigarette. Stan lifts one of Megan’s legs and rubs his bottom lip in the arch of her foot. With his tongue he traces his way up her body again, ignoring where she wants him the most and finding her neck. As he sucks on her ear lobe Megan moans with pleasure.

I clench my jaw as I read through the rest of the script, each rub, lick, kiss and grind resonating through my brain, giving me a headache. I place it on the coffee table in front of me, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room, and grab the cushion next to me for comfort, hugging it into me tightly.

Despite the presence of all these detailed scenes, I can see why Billy was so drawn to the script – it’s intense, dark and electrifying. Essentially, it follows a rock star as he reaches the height of his fame and has everything: all the money he could wish for, groupies at every venue, and the critical acclaim – however, as booze, drugs and sex take over his life, he becomes self-destructive, paranoid and increasingly violent, which results in him killing his wife. Although he is cleared of the charges, thanks to a back-hander to the judge, his reputation is in tatters. The uncertainty of his future sees him increasing his drug use, causing him to see his wife’s face everywhere, as though she’s haunting him. It’s thrilling and gripping, and miles away from the teenage drama of
Halo
, so I can understand why it’s a great project for Billy to be involved in … but even so, that doesn’t make it any easier to read or accept.

I’m not sure whether to be pleased that Billy has handed me this to look at or not, although I’d have been in for a big shock if I’d have turned up to the set, ignorant of what was about to take place, as I watched him roll around with some girl and pull her knickers off.

The reality is that this is his job, though, right? No matter how different Stan Bar is from Mr Darcy,
I knew what he did when we got together, so I can’t start throwing my weight around now, making demands. But the thought of him on set, licking, stroking and thrusting various naked girls makes me feel heartbroken – no matter how innocent the filming of the scenes might be.

Reading the script, it makes sense that actors usually date other actors. To those outside of the profession, the notion of sending your partner off to work every day where he’ll be fondling someone else is just plain barbaric. At least with two actors they each have to do the same thing, sharing some sort of mutual understanding.

I sigh heavily as Russell Mode’s words trickle into my brain … ‘Every girl in the industry is going to be batting their eyelashes in his direction now, doing everything they can to get his attention.’ If ever there were a time for a girl to be close enough to tempt Billy and demand his attention, it would be when she’s got her naked body wrapped around him, while he’s nibbling on her ear.

I know my reaction to this script is pivotal. If I react badly, blow up and go nuts at the stupidity of someone doing scenes like this when they’re in a committed relationship, I’ll push Billy away and drive a wedge between us. I’ll be giving these girls the advantage of things not being rosy at home. Allowing them to wiggle their way through the cracks and come between us. However, if I stand by Billy and realize it’s work, nothing more, turn up on set and be as nice as pie to everyone, becoming
friends with them all, there’s no way they’d cross that line. Not if I show I’m an actual figure in Billy’s life, who he loves and respects. Right?

I have to remain calm and rational, no matter how tempted I am to scream and shout, declaring the whole thing ridiculous. It’s only for eight weeks, after all, how hard can that be?

‘I have to tell you something,’ says Billy, striding through the front door an hour later, puffing in distress.

‘OK …’

Having read the script I still feel a bit queasy – the fact that Billy is obviously in a state over something else does not fill me with confidence.

‘Paul …’ he says, scratching his head as he screws up his face in angst. ‘While I was there he found out who’d been cast opposite me in the film.’

‘And …?’

‘It’s Heidi Black.’

I repeat the name in my head for a while, knowing that it sounds familiar, but not being able to place it.

‘Heidi Black? I know that name …’ I say in confusion. That’s when it dawns on me. ‘She’s your ex.’

‘Yes,’ says Billy, biting his lip and looking uncomfortable.

‘Ah …’

‘I don’t want you to panic,’ he says, taking my hands and rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs.

‘You’re going to be doing these sex scenes with your ex?’

‘I know this is going to be really odd, but trust me, it’ll all be so professional and above board. It’s literally a case of putting what where for the camera, anyway.’

‘Right …’ I say, trying to get my head around this new development. I remember back to the time I sat Googling Billy before our first date and Heidi came up with her luscious blonde hair and toned body. Clicking through those photos led me to feel worthless. How will I cope when Billy is around her and her perfection every day?

I have to play this carefully, especially as Billy has been open about everything, and not left me to discover it for myself this time.

‘She’s more like a friend now, anyway. Well, a friend I never speak to. Plus, she’s engaged to this producer, they’re getting married at the end of the year. It’s not as if either of us is still in the place we were. It’s been years …’ Billy stops and lets out a sigh. ‘I’m babbling on.’

‘You are!’

‘I’m so sorry. I’ve no idea why they’ve cast her. The whole way through casting they’ve been banging on about getting me as far away from
Halo
as possible, so it doesn’t make sense.’

‘Billy, it’s fine.’

‘It’s not.’

‘Yes, it is,’ I say, putting my arms around him.

‘I want you there, so you can see it’s all above board, that it’s all about hitting your markers and making it look right. It’s technical, nothing else.’

‘Baby … I trust you with all my heart,’ I say sincerely, knowing that I do and thankful that he’s taking such care over the matter, rather than expecting me to take it in my stride.

‘Good! The last few weeks have really made me realize how much I love you, Sophie. I want to protect you from being hurt for the rest of my life. Honestly, you don’t need to worry about me doing these scenes. They mean nothing, so I don’t want you to panic.’

There’s no stopping that, I think to myself, wondering how I’ll manage to keep calm when I see him kissing Heidi Black on screen.

The new Heidi Black development makes me phone Molly. She is the only one I want to talk to about the matter. The only one I know won’t judge me if I moan or vent. I need her.

I’ve been so wrapped up in my own torment and misery that I selfishly blocked out how Molly must’ve been feeling during that time. In the eight or more years that I’ve known Molly I’ve never gone a day without speaking to her. It’s been a week – far too long – and I know I should have phoned her sooner.

I wait until Billy is out and I know Molly will be at home and able to talk without prying ears. I crawl into bed and dial her number.

My heart thumps as the phone rings and I wait for her to pick up.

‘Hello?’ she eventually answers, sounding out of breath.

‘Molly, it’s me.’

‘Oh, my darling! I’m so sorry.’

‘You don’t have to be, Molly. It’s not your fault.’

‘No, but …’ she says, flustered over where to start. ‘Sally started up a friendship with Carla, you see. She’d come to me and asked these questions about you – I didn’t want to say anything but I had to put her straight. Carla had said all sorts of rubbish.’

‘Molly, honestly you don’t have to explain.’

‘She didn’t even tell me,’ Molly continues. ‘She just didn’t turn up for work on the Saturday, she didn’t call or anything. I spent the whole day worrying. And then on the Sunday I saw the papers and knew exactly what she’d been up to.’

‘That’s awful.’

How could someone trick such a kind lady as Molly in that manner? Does this Sally have no shame whatsoever?

‘Everyone in the village is outraged!’ she continues. ‘Everyone had been so nice to her.’

Suddenly I realize it’s not just me who needs to vent some anger and get things off her chest. Likewise, it’s not just me that has been wronged.

I listen as Molly continues, clearly eager to share her version of events.

‘A few of the ladies came to me because they were worried about the things that they’d told her – I had a right panic at what else that little toerag knew. Miss Brown was in a complete state about the whole thing. But when I asked her a few questions it turned out it wasn’t
anything about you, she’d only sung your praises. No, she was worried that she’d admitted to lying to her family about baking the cakes we make for her every time they visit.’ At this Molly starts laughing hysterically. ‘Oh, I know I shouldn’t … but as if the nation would really care about that?’

‘You never know, “Granny Brown’s baking frown” has quite a ring to it,’ I chuckle back.

‘Oh my sweetpea, I’m really am so sorry. I know that must’ve hit you hard.’

‘You know what, Mol, it did but I’m glad it’s out there now.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I should’ve told Billy months ago.’

‘Probably explains a thing or two about your hermit behaviour!’

‘Oi! I’ve only just forgiven you,’ I laugh.

‘You said I didn’t need forgiving!’

There are certain people in life who can tease you about your idiosyncrasies without you getting seriously offended. For me, Molly is the only one who can joke about my shortcomings and get away with it. I imagine that’s because we know each other so well.

‘I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to call you, Mol. It was stupid of me to leave it this long.’

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘No, it was childish of me. I should’ve called you straight away.’

‘You’re calling now, love, that’s all that matters!’ she coos. ‘How is everything there anyway?’

‘Fine … except you’ll never guess who Billy’s new leading lady is.’

‘Who?’

‘His ex.’

‘Noooooo!’

‘Yep.’

‘Crikey. You’re not worried, are you?’

‘I’m not overjoyed about it!’

‘That’s hardly surprising, dear. It’s just another part, though – like all the rest.’

‘Yes, Mol, but this script is so … explicit!’

‘In what way?’

‘Sex. And lots of it.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘Seriously, I wouldn’t even be able to read a single scene to you without blushing.’

‘What are you more worried about? Him being with his ex or filming naughty bits like that?’

‘To be honest, both fill me with dread,’ I say, as I ponder the question. ‘What if all his old feelings for her come flooding back? I can’t compete with her, Molly, I know I can’t.’