Removing his jacket and hanging it over the banister to dry, he followed Daphne into her lounge and settled into an armchair in front of her gas fire. He knew when to do as he was told. Many older people didn’t like to lose their independence. She may have been slower than Steve, but she was still able.
Daphne brought out a tray with two cups and saucers, a teapot covered in an old-fashioned, burgundy coloured, woolly tea-cosy and a plate of biscuits.
“Milk?”
“Yes, please,” Steve said.
“Sugar?”
“No,” he said exaggerating the word playfully, “sweet enough as I am.” He winked.
Daphne chuckled, croakily with old age. “Good, because I’d forgotten to put it on the tray.” She held out the plate of biscuits. There was a mixed assortment. Steve took one, a plain digestive. When he saw Daphne dip her own into her tea, he did the same.
“So you’ve upset our Ruby, have you? Where you been to?” Daphne asked in her very strong Bristolian accent.
“Just to the café down the road. Came home worse for wear last night. Haven’t been out like that in such a long time. Anyway…” Steve waved it off. Daphne didn’t need to hear about his and Ruby’s issues. She wouldn’t really understand, not knowing Steve’s true identity.
“Like I said earlier. You’re both getting used to each other. How long you been away?”
“Fifteen years.”
Daphne laughed, more with shock. “Heavens, you’re both strangers really.”
“I’m trying to make it up to her, but can’t really think how.”
“I’m sure she’s grateful really, for you just being you and being here, love.”
“Thanks, but I’m still not sure it’s enough.”
Daphne leaned forward, placed her cup on the tray. “You know, tell me to mind my own business, but don’t you own your mother’s house?”
Steve frowned. How did she know? And why hadn’t he thought about the house? Being so busy with work, and this pretence of being someone else, he’d forgotten about their old family home.
“Ruby told me some time ago that she’d moved because she couldn’t afford to live in her mother’s house. I think it was when I nagged her that she should be buying not renting.”
“Yeah, I’ve been paying the bills, and making sure it’s looked after.”
“Is it bigger than next door?” Daphne’s house was identical to Ruby’s in layout, only the other way around. A mirror image, except for the chintz and china. “Might give you both some breathing space. I never believed Ruby wanted to leave the place, just maybe it reminded her too much of the past, of her mother, or even you?”
Steve’s mind worked overtime. Daphne had come up with an excellent idea. He let her chat away about the good old days as they drank their tea. When they’d finished, he took the tray out to the kitchen, telling Daphne to sit tight, even switching her television on for her. He’d found the perfect thing he could do for Ruby.
“Not a word to Ruby about the house,” he said, winking.
“Don’t worry, Steve, your secret is safe with me,” she replied.
Steve frowned with surprise. “My name’s Stuart,” he stammered.
“Of course it is, dear.” She tapped her nose. “It’s okay. I won’t say a word. I put two and two together earlier. I’m not as deaf as everyone thinks.”
“Earlier?”
“I’ll let Ruby tell you.” She went to get up but Steve held up his hand, to gesture for her to stay sitting, and then he showed himself out. Thankfully, the rain had ceased – for now.
He immediately dialled Marie.
“Do you even know what time it is here, buster?” Marie sounded sleepy, and angry, and refreshingly American.
“Sorry, Marie.” He hadn’t thought of the time difference, just the need to get things in motion. And when he set his mind to something, it had to be done right away. “Please can you send me the number of the contractors looking after my house here in England? I’ve not got my other phone.” He looked up to his bedroom window, visualising exactly where he’d left it, on the small desk. He left it switched on in case the real world contacted him, charging it up regularly. “And send it to this number, not my usual mobile, I mean cell phone.”
“Okay. Gosh, you’re sounding all British again. So darn cute.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ve had to work on regaining my accent, for my disguise.”
“It’s James Bond.” She laughed. “How’s that going, anyway?”
“Good. How’s my double?”
“Oh, don’t you worry about him. In fact, take a look at this month’s issue of Hello. And you might even be in OK.”
“I’ll take a look, just please send me that number, as soon as.”
“I deserve a raise.”
“Thank you.”
***
Waiting for Marie to get back to him, Steve walked down to the corner shop, where he’d become a bit of a regular. The guy behind the counter who Steve would idly chat to about the football appeared blind to the fact that Steve could actually be famous.
“Don’t worry, those are for my sister,” Steve said, pointing to the Hello and OK magazines as the male shop assistant scanned them. Steve had tucked them under two other magazines; FHM and GQ. He thought he’d throw them in to disguise the fact he was buying women’s magazines – the ones he really wanted. Being a Hollywood actor in disguise sure did make you paranoid.
He paid for his shopping and sat on the wall outside the shop, flicking through the magazines. There wasn’t a major feature or anything, just more in the gossip columns, but there they were, photos of him, or rather his stunt double, basking in the Caribbean sun. Whoa! Basking in the sun with a very attractive young woman. A ‘mystery brunette’ as the magazine quoted. Marie really was trying to keep the press at bay, wanting to get the message loud and clear: Steve was over Erica.
Was he over Erica?
He’d hoped she’d be the woman he’d marry, have children with, although he knew their relationship would be tough, both being actors. But they’d have made it work. Steve would have tried. He’d had this idea – what he realised now as pure fantasy – that they could have worked together, followed each other from set to sets of different filming. They’d take it in turns to make a film, whatever. He’d been prepared to do anything to make it stick.
But as quickly as the fire had lighted between them, it had died. Well, it hadn’t died for Steve, only Erica. The press had caught hold of them planning to marry, which they’d never officially announced. It had been leaked. She’d decided she didn’t want marriage, didn’t want kids – yet. Maybe he could understand her apprehension about starting a family; Erica was still young, in her prime, and at the height of her career. But marriage? There was the crux of it, she hadn’t loved him enough to get married.
On his walk back up to Ruby’s house, Marie’s email with the agent’s details came through to his phone. Steve made some calls, and caught a taxi to their old family house.
As he got out, he swallowed down the shock at seeing his old family house. He had visited it briefly for their mother’s wake, but other than that, he’d hardly been home in fifteen years.
He didn’t remember it looking so rundown. He certainly hadn’t noticed at the funeral, but then his mind had been on his mother’s death. Was its run-down state purely due to a lack of residents over the past years, or had it been fifteen years of not having any help with the upkeep? The sills needed painting, the blue front door had faded. The front garden was sparse where bushes and flowers had died with neglect. It was mainly lawn but that was weedy and too long, cut too early before the winter had set in.
When Ruby decided she could no longer live in it, after their mother’s death, he’d taken over its charges. The furniture had gone into storage and the house left empty. He hadn’t liked the thought of renting it out to strangers. However, he hadn’t realised how quick a place could become rundown with no-one living in it.
Looking at the sorry state of the building and the attention it needed, he realised he had some work to do. It was time Ruby came home.
***
“Where’ve you been?” Ruby answered the front door, frowning with concern at Steve.
“Out and about,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket.
At least Ruby seemed calmer than this morning. He walked into the lounge and Ruby sat back down on the sofa, picking up her book.
“But you’ve been ages.”
“I forgot my key.” Steve wasn’t going to tell Ruby about the house yet. He’d wait until it was ready, or almost ready. Then he’d surprise her. “I got breakfast in the high street, then came back and you were gone, so I had a chat with Daphne – and tea and biscuits,” he emphasised. “Then went for another stroll.” He slung the magazines on the coffee table in front of Ruby. “I’m in the gossip columns of Hello. And a small photograph in OK.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Yeah, a journalist from the Bristol Gazette knocked on my door, hence I went out to lead him away from here, in case you came home.”
“Oh.” Steve frowned. This explained Daphne knowing who he really was. The old girl was switched on. “What did you tell him?”
“No comment.” She grinned, then her expression sobered. “Does this mean you have to leave?” She sat up straighter, throwing the book aside, and started flicking through the magazines.
Steve laughed. “No, it means my plan is working. He is my stunt double, but I asked if he’d do this for me. I wanted to get away, escape to the UK without the press following me, so Marie suggested we pay for him to take a holiday in the Caribbean.” Steve shrugged, then chuckled. “If it works, I might ask him to do it more often.”
“Oh, right.” Ruby found the page and read the small feature. “Wow, he does look like you…when your hair was that bit longer. I didn’t really look at the magazine closely when Terry presented it to me. Terry showing up has worried me. We’ve got to be careful, this journalist knows I have a famous brother. If he sees you, your cover will be blown. I know he only works for the Bristol Gazette, but the bastard is ambitious.”
Steve nodded, dread sinking in, hating the idea of having to watch his back. Had he become complacent? Everything had been going well. Though, he found the less you acted like a star, the less people believed you were one.
Ruby smirked, still reading the article. “Says you’ve found love again with a secret woman.”
“Yep, apparently so.” He smiled again. This storyline pleased Steve. What would be Erica’s reaction if she read it? Scratch that, she probably won’t care. She’s moved on. So should you.
“Yeah, that’s why Terry was sniffing around. Wanted to know if I knew anything.”
“Who is this Terry?”
“No one.” Ruby continued to flick through the magazine.
“Ruby?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she snapped.
“Okay.” Steve held his hands up, knowing when it was best to back off, especially when it came to Ruby. He was learning, and he didn’t want to ruin the mood. “At least the press think I’m in the Caribbean, so it should keep the heat off me here for a while longer.”
“Good,” Ruby looked up at him, “I know I was mad, and everything, but I don’t want you to leave me.” Ruby’s bottom lip wobbled, her eyes glistened and she swallowed.
“Hey, no way.” Steve slumped onto the sofa beside her, hugging her closely. “I want to spend time with you, Roo. I want to make up for not being here.” He kissed the top of her head, like he remembered his father used to do, though she wasn’t four anymore.
“Phew! For a moment I thought I’d scared you off.”
“Take a lot more than you blowing a gasket to get rid of me.” Steve reached for the remote control and turned on the television. “So, shall we watch a film tonight, or play on the Wii?”
“Wii. I want to beat you at tennis.”
“Deal.” Steve turned on the Wii and handed Ruby a controller. They were soon standing in the middle of the lounge, playing tennis, Ruby cheering and goading him when she won a point. They laughed; last night’s argument and this morning’s tempers forgotten.
An hour into the game, Steve frowned, swinging his Wii controller. “You know, we could do with a bigger screen.” He regretted taking Ruby on, she was seriously whupping his ass at tennis.
“I can’t afford a bigger TV.”
“I can. Let’s go shopping tomorrow. I’ll buy you one.”
“Steve, haven’t you heard of ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’?”
“Yeah, I know. But I can buy you a new one.”
“There is nothing wrong with this TV.”
“You could have a flat screen, high definition, it would look great. Blu-ray…”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “No, Steve,” she said firmly.
“Go on. I want a bigger TV.”
“Doesn’t anyone say no to you in Hollywood?”
Actually, they didn’t. If he wanted something, he got it.
Ruby sighed. “I don’t want you spending unnecessarily. Besides, you shouldn’t flash your money around, remember? Act normally. Otherwise I’ll have to set you a budget, to appreciate having a limited income.”
“No one need know.”
“What about Callum and Brett if they come over again? They’d definitely notice a flashy new TV.”
“I only want to treat you.”
“You’re treating me by spending time with me. I mean, how many celebrities would stay home, play Wii and eat takeaway pizza – cold – when they could be high flying it in some posh Michelin-star restaurant, with a high class date?”
“I’m having fun.” And he was. Amazing how you appreciated the little things in life when it was so hard to have them. Everyone expected a celebrity to choose the high life.
“Even though I’m beating you?” Ruby’s serious expression softened into a sneaky smile.
He nudged her and set another game up. “Yeah, but next you’ve got to play me at golf.”
Chapter 12
Sunday 10th November
“I’m going shopping!” Ruby called up the stairs, slipping on her coat. It was about half past ten in the morning. They’d played Wii till the early hours, hence the late lie in.
“On a Sunday?” Steve replied groggily back. “And didn’t you go yesterday?”
Shit! Yes, she had. “Yeah, I need to take something back, and it’s mildly quieter than on a Saturday, especially if I go early.”
“How long are you going to be? Will you be back for dinner? I’m cooking, remember?”
Ruby had a rare whole weekend off, and she’d promised Steve they’d make the most of it together. But she had a plan.
“Of course! I’ll be back way before dinner. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Ruby rolled her eyes, not that Steve could see her sarcastic expression, grabbed her car keys and handbag. “Bye!” she yelled, shutting the door behind her.
She got into her car and started the engine. Paranoid Steve would be looking out his bedroom window, she drove off, deciding she’d make her call once she was at Cribbs Causeway.
Parked, she fumbled for her mobile phone and dialled.
“Hi, Lydia, it’s me, Ruby.”
“Hello.”
“I was wondering if you wanted to call in and swap books today.”
“Today?”
“Yeah, you’re not working are you?
“No. It’s my day off.”
“Well then, come over.” Ruby realised she didn’t want this to seem too set up after all. “I’m shopping at the Mall, but will be home in an hour. You’re not doing anything are you?”
“Oh, no, not really, just having a relaxing, do-nothing type of day.”
“Well, pop over around twelve, then.”
Ruby gave Lydia instructions on how to get to her house, guilt eating away at her with her lie. But Lydia needed a push, in th
e right direction. She’d hoped Friday night might have turned out better, but Lydia had gone home early. And Steve had been a jerk. Call it women’s intuition, or something like that, Ruby knew Lydia had a thing for Steve. She was certain of it. It was like a gift, Ruby thought to herself. She’d got two friends, Ellie and Joe, together whilst at college. They hadn’t even realised they were perfect for one another, and Ruby, having an inkling as she liked to think it, convinced them to go to a charity ball together and the rest is history, as they say. They’d ended up marrying and starting a family. As far as Ruby knew – she got a Christmas card every year – they were still happy.
On this alone, Ruby believed she was a good match-maker.
Besides, what did she have to lose? Or Lydia, or Steve, for that matter? Steve had been here over a month, he needed to pull his finger out. Unfortunately, nothing had happened at the Halloween party, and in hindsight, maybe she shouldn’t have made him work. But she’d let him enjoy the party, allowing him to be more relaxed in his work, to talk to all of the guests as he’d served their drinks.
“See you later.” Ruby ended the call and dropped her phone into her bag. “Time for some retail therapy.” She’d killed time around the Mall yesterday, but she had every intention of being longer than an hour. She’d worry about the state of her credit card later. Now where had she seen that dress?
***
Lazy Sunday. Steve heard Ruby shut the front door, meaning he had the house to himself. He stayed in bed half an hour longer, feeling cosy and warm under his duvet. Besides, when did he get to snooze in bed till eleven a.m. usually? When he finally did surface, he showered and shaved, cursing as he cut himself – there was a downside to this normality lark, shaving every morning was tiresome, he longed for his designer stubble. Okay, so he probably could have left it this morning, but he was into a habit now. Or was it more a ritual? Once dressed, and removing the small patches of tissue from his chin – you’d think practise meant being perfect by now – he moseyed to the corner shop, then came home and flicked through the Sunday papers, drinking coffee. It had started raining while he was out – did it ever stop? – making him decide he’d wait until the rain eased before going for a run. The food Ruby was giving him – decent home-cooked recipes from Mum – was doing him in. It was the portion size rather than the quality of food. However, at the weekends they tended to be lazy and opt for takeaways. Today he’d cook. He hadn’t cooked a roast in a very long time, but he’d learnt from the best – their mother.
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