Billy and Me (5 page)

‘Soph, that young man came in to see if you were feeling better and bought you flowers. He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you since he came in – and I noticed that before I knew he was some blooming fancy film star! I’m telling you, he’ll be back before you know it.’

‘I doubt that, Molly!’ I blub, as I give up and let the tears stream down my face.

‘Well, I guess only time will tell!’ she says, as she guides me into her arms for a warm embrace.

I don’t read on my journey to work the following morning. I’m not in the mood. Whereas the night before I suffered from a lack of sleep due to excitement, last night I was left staring at the ceiling all night as I was burdened with the overwhelming sense of dread and humiliation. So, instead, on today’s walk, I kick at little stones and fallen branches on the pathway, releasing some of the anger I feel towards myself.

As I walk out from the alleyway onto the High Street I’m surprised when I look up the hill to see a figure standing on the doorstep of the cafe, peering through the windows. It doesn’t take me long to realize it’s Billy. A wave of nervous excitement rushes over me as I continue to walk towards him.

‘What are you doing here so early?’ I ask.

‘Ah, Sophie! There you are!’ he says, blowing onto his fingers in an attempt to warm them in the crisp spring morning air. ‘I wasn’t sure when you opened.’

‘Not until eight, so you’ve got quite a wait.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep.’

‘Bugger.’

‘I would invite you in but I can’t offer you anything
hot until everything’s heated up. So no coffee, I’m afraid.’

‘I don’t mind something cold until then! I couldn’t just perch at a table and work on my script while you bake or whatever, could I?’ he asks with pleading eyes.

I know that Molly won’t mind. In fact, I know she’ll be beside herself and bursting to point out that she was correct about him coming back.

‘Ok, come on in, then.’ I sigh, unlocking the door and letting us both in.

‘Thank you. I’ve got to be on set at nine anyway, so I won’t stay too long.’

‘You’re still working on your script, then?’

‘Well, I guess you could say that I keep getting distracted,’ he says with a glimmering smile in my direction. ‘I think I’ll blame Miss Brown for kicking it all off with her suspicious mind.’

And me, for a variety of things, I think. ‘Well, I don’t think she’ll be doing that again – not now that she knows she’s in the presence of greatness. In fact, I bet she’s been on the phone all night to everyone she knows gushing about you. She’ll have been telling anyone who’ll listen that she knew there was something “special” about you from the start.’

I swear I can actually see Billy’s cheeks redden as he mumbles, ‘I’m sure she hasn’t.’

I find myself taken back by this bashful side of him. After all, he’s a Hollywood superstar; aren’t actors meant to have huge egos and think incredibly highly of themselves? Surely he is used to better praise than that.

‘Right,’ I say, aware of the time. ‘I’ve got to crack on with the baking.’ I nod towards the oven. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘No, no, no. I’m fine. Just … act like I’m not here.’

I give him a slight smile before heading behind the counter to the ovens where I whip up the morning batch of muffins, cupcakes, bread and a special carrot cake for Mrs Wallis who has her family over for the weekend. I’m almost finished when I hear Molly swing through the door at seven forty-five, ready to knock together her signature scones. I watch her stop in confusion when she sees Billy sat at a table, and then break out in a smile. I know instantly what she’s thinking.

‘Back again already, Mr Buskin? I didn’t expect to see you so soon. At least not until opening hours anyway.’

‘I wasn’t sure what time you opened, but thankfully I was let in to get on with some work.’

‘Hmm. Sophie’s good like that. I’ll leave you to get on with it. Let us know if you need anything.’

Molly’s still smirking when she comes behind the counter and removes her coat. ‘Good morning, my dear,’ she says to me, before giving me a big wink and mouthing the words, ‘See? What did I say?’ I can’t help but blush.

Having finished my contribution to the morning load I watch Billy, who is still looking increasingly wound up at the papers in front of him. In an attempt to make up for my appalling behaviour, I decide to say thank you and sorry by taking him a pot of coffee and
some freshly baked breakfast muffins. He looks up in surprise when I place the loaded tray onto his table.

‘What’s this for?’

‘It looked like you could do with it. Your frown lines have been getting increasingly worse for the last hour – not good news for someone who’s face regularly gets blown up to the size of a house!’ The words spurt out of my mouth before I have a chance to sensor myself. ‘I mean in cinemas, because the screens are so big. I’m not saying you have a big head or anything.’ I’m aware of myself rapidly turning into a bumbling buffoon, but Billy takes the comment the way I originally intended and he begins laughing out loud uncontrollably, yet again.

Once he has calmed down he looks down at the pages in his hands and whimpers, ‘It’s just these lines I’m trying to learn … Actually,’ he says as his eyes twinkle with an idea, ‘I don’t suppose you could sit and go over them with me, could you? It’s just so much easier to do if you have someone to read out loud with.’

I contemplate saying no, but somehow Billy’s pleading eyes win me over.

‘Hand them over,’ I say, holding out my hand. ‘I’m no professional but I did do my fair share of amateur dramatics when I was younger.’ A slight white lie; I’ve only ever had one experience of acting, and that was when I played the Wicked Witch of the East in a local children’s production of
The Wizard of Oz,
when I was nine. You know, the one that dies as soon as she appears? I think the part is usually just a pair of stuffed
stockings, but seeing as I’d been paying two pounds a week to be part of the club they had to do something with me. Mum and Dad said they’d never seen the character played with such enthusiasm, which I took for a compliment at the time.

Billy smiles as I pull out a chair, sit down and join him. ‘Thank you. Are you sure I’m not distracting you from your work?’

‘Sadly not,’ I smile. ‘Our regulars won’t start coming in for at least another half hour. Now, where should we go from?’

With a huge grin, he says, ‘Let’s go from the top of the page, from “Come, Darcy”. Do you know the book at all?’

‘Yes … it’s one of my favourites,’ I admit.

‘Ahh, so you know what’s happening.’

‘Yep. Ok … here goes. “Come, Darcy,” ’ I put on a deep and manly Mr Bingley voice as I start, causing Billy to laugh. ‘Oi, you can’t laugh at me!’ I say, pretending to be offended by his outburst.

‘Sorry!’

I keep up with the silly voice, but with less gusto than before, as I continue, ‘ “Come, Darcy, I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.” ’

‘ “I certainly shall not,” ’ starts Billy. ‘ “You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such a … gathering”?’ His face squirms as he looks at me for confirmation or a correction.

‘Assembly.’

‘Right, sorry – “At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand.” ’

‘ “Up with” … there’s an “up with” at the end of that.’

‘Ah … “whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.” ’

‘ “I would not be so fastidious as you are for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.” ’

‘ “You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.” ’ Something about the way he slowly says the last part of the line, as his eyes penetrate mine with such meaning, catches me by surprise and renders me breathless, causing me to momentarily forget what I’m doing.

‘Errr … sorry, lost where I am,’ I say, flustered as my eyes search up and down the page. ‘Oh yes. “Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and dare I say, very agreeable …” ’

We work our way through the scene a few times, followed quickly by two others, before customers start coming into the shop and Molly starts to look snowed under, meaning we have to stop. To be honest, I’m glad to step away as I kept finding myself getting
more and more muddled, whereas Billy seemed to be getting more confident with his lines and blowing me away – causing more awkward pauses.

As it nears nine o’clock Billy turns to me with a whimsical smile as he makes to leave.

‘Thanks for that.’

‘Oh, it was nothing,’ I say, shrugging my shoulders.

‘Seriously, you really helped.’

‘No worries.’

‘You might have just given yourself a little problem, though,’ he says, raising his eyebrows and making his face look grim with concern.

‘Really? What’s that, then?’ I ask, intrigued.

‘Well, you’ve proven yourself to be very useful, so I’ll have to keep coming back in now and hassling you for more! You’re never going to get rid of me. Honestly, I’ll be following you around everywhere trying to get you to spend every last minute with me and my script.’

‘Oh …’ I’m left speechless, unsure of how to respond.

‘Bye, Sophie,’ Billy chuckles, as he sweeps out of the shop, leaving me to stare after him with bright-red-blushed cheeks – yet again!

I don’t see Billy again for a few days and it’s torture. Although my mind is giddy over the mere recollection of his smile, I can’t help the doubt that starts to seep through in his absence. Of course, if I were being rational I’d probably assume that he’s just been busy on set and hasn’t had time to pop by. But I’m not rational
and feel increasingly anxious as more time passes. Have I somehow managed to put him off? If so, what did I do wrong?

I’m surrounded by cake mixture and dozens of tins, for a sixteenth birthday party order, when Billy finally walks back through the shop door. Instantly, the fear that has been mounting melts away. My tummy starts jumping somersaults and a huge wave of excitement causes a massive grin to appear on my face. He is here. He has come back.

I decide to say a quick hello while Molly serves him … I can’t resist it!

‘Hey! How have things been on set?’ I ask, walking over with a glass bowl in my hands, mixing together some sugar, butter and eggs.

‘Great! Well, actually, it’s been quite full on, which is why I’ve not been in.’

‘I see – we thought maybe you’d been replaced by Jude Law,’ I quip.

‘What, a real actor? No such luck,’ he says with a smirk.

‘Shame! Good to see you back.’ I grin, returning to my workstation.

As I continue to whip, whisk, fold and beat I look over at Billy, who seems agitated with his script once again. I notice him dramatically sighing heavily at the page in front of him, the frown lines on his forehead appearing deeper than ever. I feel as though he is willing me to step out and offer to help him again. I’d love to, but today I don’t have time.

After popping the last batch of cakes into the oven I look up and see a red-faced Billy striding over towards me.

‘Sophie, I know I haven’t known you long. But I just wanted to say that I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you over the last week and I’d really like it if you’d come out for dinner with me tonight … on a date. To say thank you.’

Shock is the only explanation I can give for the laughter that shoots from my mouth. My hand quickly flies up to cover it but it’s too late, he has heard it. Billy registers the laugh, looks around at Molly, Miss Brown, Mrs Sleep and a few other customers in the shop (who are sat staring at him open-mouthed), and then turns on his heels and rushes out of the door, knocking over a stand of cards in his haste.

I immediately feel horrified at my reaction and so whip off my apron and run out after him.

‘Billy! Billy! Stop!’ I shout as the gap between us closes. ‘I’m so sorry I laughed – but that was the last thing I was expecting you to say.’

‘Really?’ He turns round to face me and I notice he looks like a hurt little boy – wounded and embarrassed.

‘Yes! Believe it or not, it’s not often guys come waltzing up to the counter and ask me out.’

‘They don’t?’

‘Strangely not. It’s rare to even have men in there.’

I look down at the floor, not quite knowing what to say now that I’ve managed to stop him from running off.

‘I didn’t waltz. More like sauntered,’ he says quietly
with a smile, as he brushes his foot forwards and back on the pavement. ‘So, fancy dinner tonight?’

‘Actually I can’t –’

‘Right, look, don’t worry about it,’ he interrupts, turning to leave, his mood changing instantly.

‘Oi! Will you stop being so bloody dramatic?’ I shout, causing him to stop and turn back to look at me again, his face full of surprise at my sudden outburst. I take a few deep breaths to compose myself before continuing. ‘What I was saying was that I can’t make tonight as I’ve already got plans with my mum.’

‘Oh!’

‘Yeah, but if you were to ask me out another day, one when I’m free, then … I might say yes.’

‘I see,’ he says, his eyes flickering with excitement. ‘When’s your day off ?’

‘Sunday.’

‘And do you have plans this Sunday?’

‘Not at the moment.’

‘Perfect,’ he beams.

I walk back into the shop with the biggest grin on my face, pretending to ignore the fact that Molly and all our regulars have had their faces pressed up against the glass of the window for the last few minutes, trying to make out what was going on. The shop is deadly quiet and everyone just stares at me, waiting for me to spill the beans.

‘Come on then, out with it! What blooming happened?’
Molly suddenly snaps, causing the room to erupt with laughter.

‘Well, my lovely ladies, it appears I’ve gone and bagged myself a date!’

The ladies cheer in excitement, Molly rushes over to sit me down and then brings out a huge pot of tea and a carrot cake. The next hour is spent with us all sat round, nibbling on cake and slurping down tea, while my audience ooh and aah as I divulge all the details of our romance so far.

The house is still in darkness when I return home after work, so I’m surprised to find Mum curled up on the sofa in the living room with her eyes shut. Switching on a small lamp beside her I notice the damp tissue scrunched in her hand. Her eyes slowly flicker open and take me in. Confusion fills her face, then disappointment that I’ve found her like this once more.