Just a Fan (7 page)

'I don't think that's the case, Lillian,' he contradicted, gently. 'I for one find you very interesting.'

My eyes widened in surprise. I battled with the blush.

'It may sound weird, but - my life, which you call so interesting, just feels
normal
to me now,' Connor confessed. 'I find your ordinary life seems more fun and challenging...' He leaned back against the cushions again. 'Shooting a film and going to promotional parties is what I'm used to...that's why things like you warring against that old neighbour of yours seem so much more fascinating to me. It brings back memories...'

These revelations astounded me, almost as much as the thought of him right here with me in my flat, talking about his Golden Panini days. Connor and I talked more, until it was well into the evening. And even though our conversation was not full of animated, light-hearted teasing and flirting, it made me feel strangely closer to him, which I found very enjoyable.

All too soon, Connor had to leave, as he told me he hated driving in the dark since he easily lost his way, and it was better if he left while the sky was a less inky shade of blue. I escorted him to the front door of the apartment building, and we said our goodbyes there.

'Thanks again for such a nice day, Connor,' I told him. He smiled at me, his grin still dazzling even in the dim light of the automatic lamp on the ground floor.

'Thank
you
, Lillian,' he replied. 'I don't know what I'd do without you to talk to.'

And before I knew it, he had enfolded me in his arms. Even though it was a purely friendly goodbye hug, I felt a warm, dizzy feeling spread through me at the sensation of his firm, warm body so close to mine, his jacket leathery and smooth under my fingers, his luxurious curls tickling my cheek. My, did he smell lovely...and the feeling of his arms around me was almost enough to make me faint. I knew know how his fans were feeling in those photos I had seen of them with their arms around Connor, who always rested his arm companionably around their shoulders no matter how ugly they were. I felt like I could cling to him forever, and when he let me go I wanted to run around town screaming '
I hugged Connor MacGowan!
'. However, I managed to keep my calm, smiling at him instead with a look that I hoped was strictly amical. He smiled back.

'Well...bye, then, Lillian!' he said to me.

'Bye,' I replied, and let him out of the front door. Once he had gone, I closed it again, lingering to watch him disappear around the corner towards where his car was parked. I sighed like a schoolgirl, turned around blissfully -

...and came face-to-face with a horrifying vision.

* * *

It was only Mrs Windsor, of course, but the disapproving look on her wrinkled, wizened old face would give anyone nightmares. She was still dressed in her dressing gown and ghastly flannel slippers, and frowned fiercely at me.

'I
saw
you,' she announced. 'I
saw
you!'

'I'm sorry?' I faltered, feigning confusion.

She pointed a bony finger at me accusingly. 'You had a
young man
in your flat! Don't deny it! I saw you coming down the stairs with him just now! And you know what I have to say about bringing young men home!'

I closed my eyes, begging for patience. 'Mrs Windsor, please -'

'Be thankful I didn't
hear
anything this time!' she interrupted me, in full rant. 'If I get woken up in the middle of the night then I'm writing a
letter of complaint
, and you will be thrown out of here!'

My face burned at the thought of what Mrs Windsor presumed my relationship with Connor was.

'Mrs Windsor, I assure you he was only a friend -'

'Go away, now, I'm too tired to listen to your excuses,' Mrs Windsor grumbled crabbily, turning her back on me and shuffling off to the open door of her flat. 'And be warned!'

As soon as the old hag's door had clicked shut, I impulsively stuck out my tongue and put up two fingers.
Bring it on
! I thought, stealing Connor's line as I marched back up the stairs.

* * *

At around nine o'clock, I was sitting comfortably on the sofa in front of the TV, after having told Julie all about my half-good, half-bad day. She had told me that it was only natural Connor would have friends like Jess - he was, after all, a very good-looking man who held a lot of influence. I sat quietly flicking through channels, hardly able to believe that Connor had really been here.

As Christmas was drawing steadily nearer, there were a lot of funny end-of-year programmes on. I finally settled on watching "
Hundred Best TV Outtakes of the Year
", which I had watched last year and nearly pulled a stomach muscle from laughing so much.

'...
and now the outtakes of Channel Three that you all love
,' the presenter announced. I smiled to myself on the sofa, waiting to be amused.

The first few outtakes were of newsreaders getting the giggles, presenters tripping over on set, and then TV talk shows that experienced various humorous technical problems. There was a brief sequence of exploding lights on sets, cameras being knocked over, and erstwhile newsreaders picking their noses. Then, there came an extract from the popular new show
Celebrities in the Kitchen
, which I had seen once or twice on rainy afternoons. The presenter, a middle-aged female cook who prepared meals with various show business personalities, was preparing a cake judging by the bowls of icing and glacé cherries around her.

'
And we stir the mixture well -
' she was saying, then was interrupted by laughter from the assistant and two guests. The camera switched to what they were laughing at, and to my surprise, there was Connor himself, standing there with a white icing moustache and a blob of the mixture upon his nose.

'
Mmm
,' he commented, eyes sparkling in the stagelights, the lines parenthesizing his mouth growing deeper.

'
Connor seems to be enjoying himself
,' the presenter chuckled. '
Chef's privilege!
'

'
Mmmm
,' affirmed Connor, looking slowly up at the camera, still with the icing upon his upper lip from where he had been sampling it.

The whole crew by now were seized by a fit of the giggles, especially when Connor reached out with exaggerated sneakiness and quickly popped a glacé cherry into his mouth.

'
MMMmmm
,' he said even louder, eyebrows raised and blue eyes glimmering under the stage lights.

I laughed softly, hardly able to grasp the fact that the man on TV now had been sitting exactly where I was sitting only a few hours ago. The image of Connor finally grinning and sticking out a pink tongue to lick the icing from his upper lip was replaced by more scenes of newsreaders falling off faulty chairs and getting guests' names wrong, and I sat back, smiling, my eyes falling to my collection of DVDs in the cabinet below the TV. Connor had seen those, and had spotted how many of the films he starred in I owned. I recalled the flattered look on his face with fondness...

My face suddenly began to fall as a thought occurred to me. Why didn't he see me as a normal, boring fan of his? Why did he find my ordinarity so interesting? Why did he take me out, persuade me to let him into my flat? I had a nagging bad feeling about this. Nothing could be this perfect...fate didn't usually bring to life a girl's wildest dreams without dire consequences. I felt like there must be some setback somewhere...was it a flaw in Connor himself? It didn't seem so. He was kinder and more handsome than I had ever imagined. Was it a flaw in our relationship? It wasn't likely...after all, we were building up a steady friendship here. But still I felt like there would be a price to pay for this heavenly experience. Nothing could be so universally
right
...it just wasn't natural. What was the drawback to this dream-like situation? What did the small print on the genie's magic lamp say?

I sighed, rubbing my temples, then tried to shake myself out of my negative train of thought. Honestly, why was I being so pessimistic? I was being repaid for my lifetime of dullness, and all I could do was look for flaws? I was crazy...

* * *

Two days later, I received a phone call.

'
Hi, Lillian, it's Connor
.'

'Oh...hi!' I smiled breathlessly, sitting myself down on the arm of the sofa. 'How are you?'

'
I'm fine
,' he replied. '
Look, er...I'm leaving for New York, tomorrow. We might not get a chance to talk for quite a while, so...I was wondering if you'd like to come to mine for a chat before I go?
'

My heart sank abruptly. He was...leaving? Already?

'You're going already?' I asked, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice.

I heard him sigh. '
Aye
,' he said. '
There's a film I'm going to be working on, and I'll need to get back.
'

'Oh...' I said. 'Well, OK then...I'd love to come to yours and have a chat.'

'
That alright? Great...I'll come by and pick you up
,' he told me.

Later, when we had arranged the details, I stood by the window, saddened by the knowledge that Connor was going to be leaving all the way back to America. He had said himself that we wouldn't be able to talk much...presumably because of the time difference and his busy schedule. Oh, dear...

My life without him again would be so...unimagineably
boring
. Sure, I'd have my friendship with him to boast about, but...he wouldn't be here.

I was beginning to miss him already...

I turned away from the window, and went off to my bedroom. All the more reason to make our last meeting an interesting one. I decided to do a little good old-fashioned background research, to see what was going on in Connor's life at the moment so that I would know what to talk about when we met. This time I would be the one leading the conversations, I decided.

I fired up my old computer - which was often as temperamental as the radiators - and waited five minutes for it to slowly whirr erratically to life. Once it had started up, I waited a few minutes more for the dial-up connection to begin, and then opened my internet browser when it was done.

I went straight onto trusty old Wikipedia, and within a short while I found the lengthy page on Connor MacGowan himself. Although I had already read it countless times before, it was often updated, so there were sometimes new things to learn about him. I got myself comfortable and began to read:

"
Connor Graeme MacGowan (31) is a Scottish actor who has won wide critical acclaim for his compelling roles in many award-winning films, such as
Valerian Murdock
in
Esquire
,
Steele
in the blockbuster
Heyday
, and, more recently,
Mortimer Graydon
in
La Ferrassie.
His rapid rise in popularity is attributed to his debut role in his first big-budget movie
, The Spotted Feather
.

Biography:

MacGowan was born in a village in Ayrshire, Scotland, to Craig and Kathleen MacGowan, and was raised in a working-class family along with his elder sister Gracie. His father ran a small editing business, and when the business collapsed the family moved to Glasgow. Connor MacGowan was twelve at the time, and grew up in a small city house there.