by Jill Mansell
Whoa.
Lily’s gaze, which had been skating idly over the massed crowds lined up on the other side of the barriers, suddenly screeched to a halt. She zoned in on the face of someone she’d never met but whom she was nevertheless pretty sure she recognized.
Oh goodness, was it really her?
The girl was small and thin with a pale, heart-shaped face, straight, dark hair falling to her shoulders, and unflinching bright blue eyes. She was wearing a stripy gray sweater under a pink puffy jacket and was clutching a phone in her hand.
From here she blended in perfectly, looking like every other movie fan.
It was the way she was completely ignoring the stars on the red carpet to look at Lily that was the real giveaway.
Declan touched her arm. “Everything OK?”
“Yes.” Lily nodded. “I’ve just seen my half sister.”
“What? Where?”
“At the front of the barriers. Pink puffy jacket.” As Lily was murmuring the words, the girl raised her free hand slightly, did a little wave, and broke into a crooked smile.
“I see her now. What are you going to do?”
“Ignore her.” Lily waited, then gave Declan a nudge. “Hey, she’s my half sister. I’m going to go over there and say hello.”
* * *
“Push, Patsy! Take a deep breath, and push down as hard as you can!”
“HMMMPPPLEURGHHH!”
“And again! Come on, Patsy. You can do it,” cried the midwife.
“GUUURRRHHHFFF!”
“That’s it!” Oliver was urging her on too, letting her grip his hands and heroically not complaining about the pain she was inflicting on him.
“One more push. I can see the head,” the midwife said. “Let’s get this done, shall we? OK, brace yourself. Here we go…”
* * *
“Hi.” Sasha’s eyes were bright. “Do you know who I am?”
“Of course I do. I recognized you straightaway from your photo in the paper.”
“And are you OK with this? I mean, me turning up today?”
Lily nodded. “Oh yes, definitely!”
It wasn’t something she’d mentioned to anyone else, but deep down, a tiny part of her had wondered if it might happen like this one day.
“I didn’t even know for sure if you’d be here,” Sasha said. Up close, she had a scattering of freckles across her nose and the faintest sign of a dimple in her cheek. “And I know I said last year I wasn’t interested in meeting you, but…well, that was then. I’m older now. More mature. I thought maybe I’d like to see you after all.”
She was sixteen and full of spirit. Charmed, Lily said, “I’m glad.”
“In case you’re wondering, I’m a lot nicer than my father. Our father,” Sasha amended.
Lily said, “Well, that’s good. Hopefully I am too.”
The younger girl’s thin face lit up when she smiled. “I suppose we could hardly be worse. Honestly, you didn’t miss out on anything growing up. You were better off without him.” She hesitated. “Could I take a photo of us together? Would that be all right with you?”
“I’d love it,” Lily said.
When it was done, she said, “They’re going to want us to head inside in a minute. Can I see you later?”
Sasha made a regretful face. “The thing is, I’ve got to catch the train home. School tomorrow. It’s GCSEs this year,” she explained. “I want to get as many A stars as I can.” After a pause she added frankly, “Maybe next summer, when exams are over, we can meet up again. You could give me your number if you like, so I can text you. I wouldn’t be a nuisance, I promise.”
Lily took the girl’s phone and keyed in her number. “You wouldn’t be a nuisance anyway.” She handed the phone back. “I’ve never been a big sister before. Text me whenever you want. I’d like that very much.”
* * *
The red carpet had been cleared, and the press pen had emptied. Lily, along with the rest of their party, was making her way through the movie theater foyer when Dan’s phone rang.
“Whoa!” He stopped in his tracks and held up his hand. “It’s Patsy.”
Everyone in the foyer fell silent. Cast and crew alike had gotten to know Patsy during their weeks of filming in Stanton Langley. There’d also been some lively betting on the weight of the baby when it arrived.
“Hey,” Dan said, “how’s everything?”
Lily loved the way Dan’s voice softened as he spoke on the phone to his sister.
He listened for several seconds before breaking into an unstoppable grin. “Yes? That’s brilliant. Fantastic. Well done, you! Listen, are you decent? OK then, let me call you back on FaceTime. You can tell everyone yourself.”
And seconds later, with the volume turned up to maximum, Lily and Coral and the others surrounding Dan saw Patsy’s flushed, happy face appearing on the screen of his phone.
“Hello, everyone!” She waved from her hospital bed. “Sorry to interrupt your premiere, but I’ve got someone here for you to meet. He weighs eight pounds and two ounces, and we love him to bits!”
Everyone cheered as Patsy lifted her newborn son, wrapped in a white blanket, and presented him to the camera.
“For those at the back who can’t see,” Dan announced, “it looks like a baby.”
“He’s beautiful,” Lily exclaimed. “You clever thing!”
“I know! Thank you.” Patsy was beaming. “I’m so happy.”
“I don’t believe it. Eight pounds, two ounces.” Dan shook his head in resignation. “And I had twenty quid on eight five. This is bad news. Hey, Pats, I don’t suppose you could pop him back in for a few more days so he can—”
“No, Dan,” Lily chimed in. “She probably doesn’t want to do that.”
“Dan?” Patsy was firm. “Lily’s right.”
“You see, this is what I have to put up with,” Dan said mournfully. “A sister who’s just plain selfish.”
“Don’t worry.” Lily shook her head at Patsy. “I’ll deal with him later. You get some rest now. You deserve it. Have you chosen a name yet?”
“Not yet.” Patsy glanced down with pride at her son.
“We thought we’d wait until he arrived, then see what he looked like.”
“Risky,” Dan said. “What if he looked like ET?”
“If he had,” Patsy said, “we’d have named him after you.”
* * *
In the darkened movie theater, Lily was completely wrapped up in the movie playing on the screen. She’d read the script and watched some of the scenes being shot on location, and Eddie had even shown them the initial rough-cut version, but actually seeing the polished end result was just the most extraordinary experience. Somehow, from the real-life bones of a story, Eddie had written something amazing, and the director had brought it to the screen in a way that was both funny and sad, quirky and emotional. Eddie was playing himself, her own character was played by Mira, and a gorgeously charismatic up-and-coming actor named Ronan Morrell had captured Dan’s character to a T.
It was fictionalized reality, but so recognizable that Lily felt as if she were living and breathing the movie, even those scenes created by Eddie that had never actually happened.
And now the movie was nearing the end. Next to her, Lily felt Dan reach for her hand, and as always, the intimacy of the gesture gave her a thrill. Up on the screen, Eddie was being presented with an award for his work, receiving a standing ovation and listening to the applause as it rang out around the theater. Then it cut to the next scene, with him being driven back along a winding road to his multimillion-dollar home in the Hollywood Hills. There, barefoot and still clutching his award, he wandered alone through the vast, empty rooms, then stood on the terrace gazing out at the glittering view spread out below…
And then it cut to the cottage i
n the Cotswolds where he’d first met Lily. But that had been then, and this was now. Outside, visible through the window, snow was falling. Inside, in the living room, a fire was burning in the grate and the squashy, faded blue sofa was occupied by Mira and Ronan playing the characters of Lily and Dan. They were lying contentedly together, laughing and playing with a boisterous mongrel puppy with a wagging tail and soft, oversize paws.
This scene, Lily knew, had needed several takes, because the puppy had kept peeing with excitement on Mira’s jeans.
In the movie theater, Dan leaned closer and whispered, “We could get a puppy if you like.”
On the screen, the camera panned in and you could see that the Lily character was wearing a ring on her left hand. The Dan character was murmuring something that was making her laugh harder.
In the movie theater, real Dan said in a low voice, “Fancy getting married?”
Lily’s heart gave an adrenaline-filled jolt. She murmured back, “I wouldn’t mind. Who to?”
She felt Dan shifting in his seat, altering his grip on her left hand. The next moment something smooth was being slid onto the third finger, and he was breathing in her ear, “Sorry, I’d get down on one knee, but there just isn’t room.”
In the almost-total darkness of the movie theater, Lily held up her left hand and blinked in disbelief at the rectangular diamond glinting back at her.
“Oh my God. Is this real?”
Dan was smiling. “Well, believe it or not, I didn’t buy you a ring from a market stall.”
She loved him so much. So much. “You know what?” Her voice quavering with emotion, she shifted toward him and reached over to stroke the side of his beautiful face. “I think I might quite like to marry you.”
“Good,” Dan whispered. “I think I’d like it too.”
They’d managed to miss the closing moments of the movie, but it really didn’t matter. Up on the big screen, the credits had begun to roll, and everyone else in the audience was breaking into a tumultuous wave of applause that reverberated around the huge theater. But it was all just background noise now. Lily was lost in the moment and gazed at Dan as he took her in his arms. “You and me…”
And when he’d finished kissing her, she saw the look of genuine love in Dan’s eyes as he said, “Oh yes, definitely. Always.”
Like Emily Griffin and Jojo Moyes?
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For more info and updates about the series go to:
http://jillmansell.co.uk/
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Read on for an excerpt from
three amazing things about you
Coming soon from Sourcebooks Landmark
Now
OK, this is it, confession time. For the last two years I’ve asked all of you to tell me three things about you. And in return I’ve never told you anything about me. Which probably hasn’t seemed very fair, has it?
But it’s currently one o’clock in the morning, I’m in the back of a car being driven down to London, and I’ve decided to come clean.
So here we go:
1.I’m twenty-eight, I have cystic fibrosis, and I never actually expected to live this long.
2.The hospital transplant coordinator called two hours ago—they have a new pair of lungs for me.
3.I’ve never been so scared in my life. Also, excited. But mainly scared. Because this is a big thing that’s about to happen, and since I’m a coward, I can’t help picturing the worst-case scenario.
So now you know the reason for the full disclosure. Basically, if this turns out to be the final entry on the website, you’ll understand why. Needless to say, I really hope it won’t be.
One more thing. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to the wonderful family of the donor for giving me this gift, this incredible chance. I’ll be grateful until the day I die and
Hallie paused, reread what she’d written, and deleted the last sentence. In its place she typed:
I hope you know how amazing you are. Your courage, kindness, and generosity will always be remembered.
Droplets of light summer rain speckled the windshield of the car. Hallie gazed out into the warm night as a sign saying London 25 miles loomed out of the darkness toward them and slid past. Streetlamps glowed amber, and houses showed only occasional lights in their windows; almost everyone at this time was asleep. Soon, though, dawn would lighten the sky, alarm clocks would wake them, and they’d carry on living their normal lives without even pausing to think how miraculous their normal lives were.
Just being able to breathe in and out, that was pretty miraculous…
The finality of it all hit her afresh. There was still a chance, of course, that the tissue match would turn out not to be good enough and the transplant wouldn’t go ahead. Which was why she wasn’t uploading her post to the website just yet. But a few short hours from now, she could be in the operating room, receiving another person’s lungs. And who knew what might happen after that?
How many people would read what she’d written? What would they think?
Sitting back, Hallie thought of the line she’d deleted and wished she could as easily erase the song now playing in her head. It was a great song, one that people loved to sing during karaoke sessions. Everyone always joined in enthusiastically with the chorus.
She wasn’t sure of the exact lyrics, but the last line of the chorus went something like:
This could be the day that I die…this could be the day that I die…
Oh well. Seemed like her brain still had a sense of humor, at least.
* * *
Before
“Hey, hi, how’s things? What are you up to?”
Hallie brightened at the sound of Bea’s voice. “You really want to know? OK, I’ll tell you. But I’m warning you now, you’re going to be so jealous.”
“Fire away.”
“I’m in Venice, sitting at a table outside Caffè Florian in St. Mark’s Square. The sun is shining, church bells are ringing, and the waiter’s just opened a bottle of ice-cold Prosecco.”
“Is the waiter handsome?”
“What do you think? This is Venice! Of course he’s handsome. He’s giving me one of those handsome-waiter looks,” said Hallie. “With his eyes.”
“Hmm, and is he listening to you saying this?”
“It’s fine, he doesn’t speak a word of English. I may seduce him later. He has a look of Bradley Cooper about him.”
“Sure you don’t mean Tommy Cooper?”
“Shut up.”
“Are there pigeons there?”
“Yes, loads.”
“My mum went to St. Mark’s Square once. A pigeon took a poo on her head.”
“Lovely.”
“She was so mad,” said Bea. “She’d had her hair done specially for the trip. I wouldn’t stick around there if I were you. Get out while you can. Those Italian pigeons are evil.”
“Fine, you’ve convinced me. I’m going to jump into my helicopter now and fly home.”
“I think you should. Shall I come over after work this evening?”
“That’d be good.”
“Around seven then. See you later. Bye-eee!”
Hallie put down the phone and straightened her duvet, which had gone crooked again. She pulled herself into a more comfortable sitting position and did her best to adjust the pillows too. There was a definite art to staying in bed and not having to endlessly rearrange yourself, and she’d yet to master it. Back arching, shoulder stretching, bottom wiggling, and neck tilting all played their part.
Having stretched and wriggled and gotten herself half sorted, Hallie looked out at the indigo sky as darkness fell. It was the week before Christmas, and multicolored fairy lights were being switched on. From here, she had arguably the best view of the village: to the left, the main street; to the right, the River Windrush with its low stone bridge and the row of honey-colored shops, hotels, and houses on the other side of the water. She could watch everyone coming and going, keep track of people she knew, and also view the progress of tourists making their way around Carranford, the self-styled jewel in the north Cotswolds’s crown.
Not so many visitors during the winter months, of course, but still enough to keep the people-watching interesting and the tourist-friendly shops open. A coachload were currently milling around, taking endless photographs, diving in and out of shops, and buying souvenirs they didn’t need, as well as Christmas presents for friends and relatives back home. By the looks of things, plenty of them would be opening a festively wrapped umbrella this year, printed with scenes of Carranford. Bea must have sold over a dozen today alone.
Eight days to Christmas. Hallie tried not to wonder if this one might be her last, basically because such thoughts were unanswerable and never helpful. Apart from anything else, the answer was always possibly.
Then again, that applied to everyone on the planet.