Just a Fan (10 page)

The world gradually grew muzzier and muzzier until I found it hard to co-ordinate my movements. Julie and Kate quietly seemed to note this, and paid for the drinks before helping me into my coat and out of the pub.

Strangely enough, even though everything was warm and fuzzy around me, the depressed state I was in had only been worsened. All the way home, I burbled on about Connor, telling them what a nice guy he was and how lovely he had been to me as they half-dragged, half-carried me to my apartment block. My heels wobbled on the pavement, which seemed to be moving beneath me, but luckily I had the ever-patient Julie and Kate for support.

When we finally arrived at my flat, I was almost collapsing, but managed to convey to them my gratefulness.

'Love you too, Lilly,' said Kate.

'Here, we'll help you...' added Julie, and was about to assist me with my coat and shoes when I shook my head.

'No, honestly, guys, it's OK,' I said. 'But thanks. You're so nice to me...I don't know what I'd do without you!'

'Are you sure you'll be fine?' Julie asked me.

'Yes,' I replied. 'I think I'll go to bed. Have an early night.'

After I had sufficiently convinced them, they left me, promising to be there if I needed someone to talk to over the phone. I sighed, sitting down on the sofa in my too-quiet flat, and began to fumble with the coat buttons. After a lot of false starts and fiddling, I managed to take my coat off, but the shoes were a bit of a problem. I tugged uselessly at the straps, my fingers slipping. I gave a groan of frustration...I should have just stayed at home and not let Kate take me away to "drown my sorrows". The alcohol had only
deepened
my sorrows, and on top of all that I couldn't even get my bloody shoes off afterwards.

I gave a sigh of defeat, flopping back down on the sofa. I felt faintly ill, but I was still grateful that my friends had made an effort to cheer me up. I was sure that some day, somehow, I would get past the memory of the famous man who had kissed me, perhaps even with their help. I almost found myself wondering what Connor was doing right now...it was approaching evening, so he would probably be already in America. Well, he could go, and see if I cared...I wasn't going to sit here waiting for his return like a brainless fangirl. I would carry on and live my life...

* * *

The next morning I woke up groggy and grumpy. I blearily opened my eyes to find myself lying wrapped in a duvet on the floor by the cupboard for no apparent reason. Painfully I rolled over, screwing my eyes up against the light coming through my window. Why wasn't I in bed? My head throbbed as I tried valiantly to remember. I think I faintly recalled tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep for the conflicting thoughts in my head about
him
, before rolling off the bed semi-conscious to curl up on the floor instead. My shoulder and hip ached slightly...

I slowly sat up, then froze, squeezing my eyes shut as a wave of pain rushed through my head. What was it Julie had said? Alcohol dehydrates you, shrinking you brain just enough for it to pull on the skull lining and give you the king of all headaches...lovely.

Grimacing, I managed to weakly and unsteadily get to my feet, still with my duvet wrapped around my body like a bulky sleeping bag. I staggered over to the window, shutting the curtains and blocking out the light. Once the dark was restored, I felt marginally less terrible.

With small steps, I tottered out of the bedroom in my duvet-cocoon that only left my face visible. Today I felt like being lazy...and since I no longer had anyone to look pretty for, I would let go and spend a whole day just lolling about my flat in my pyjamas, without getting washed, dressed, or brushing my hair. When I entered the main room, I collapsed onto the sofa. Yes...I would just lie here despondently all day...maybe have some ice-cream...watch TV...without having to care about
what
I looked like.

I extricated one pale arm from the duvet cocoon and groped inelegantly for the remote. But when I finally grabbed hold of it, I just let it drop again. Did I really want to watch TV? Wouldn't it bring back...memories...?

I decided to not bother with the TV after all. For a while I lay there feeling wretched, then decided I would very much like a drink of water.

Keeping the covers wrapped around myself, I heaved myself upright, swaying slightly, then shuffled back around the sofa. As I passed the phone, I absently realised it had been at least two weeks since I had called my dear mother. She would probably be wondering what I was up to, the poor dear...no need to tell her about Connor, though. Well, not now, anyway. I still needed to get over it myself, first of -

Suddenly, the phone started ringing while I was still idly looking at it, sending pain shooting to my head. I frowned at it suspiciously, still inebriated enough to consider the possibility of my mother having received some sort of telepathic message from me. I let it ring three times, then sighed and picked it up,
really
not in the mood to talk.

'H'llo?' I grumbled.

There was a brief pause at the other end of the line.

'
Is this not the Grumpy Bachelorette Residence, then?
' a smooth, velvety voice said quietly.

The sound of that distinct Scottish burr sobered me up as sharply and effectively as three cups of black coffee followed by a bucket of ice water in the face. I swallowed, wide-eyed, then stammered in a barely audible voice: 'Y-yes...?'

Connor gave a soft sigh.

'
Hi
,' he replied awkwardly. Why was he calling me? I abruptly remembered that had said he would keep in touch...oh, God...

'How's...New York, then?' I asked him painfully, trying to stop the silence from taking us over.

There was a long pause.

'
Er...I'm...still here
,' Connor told me sheepishly.

I froze in shock.

'What?'

'
Look, Lillian, I know it's stupid...my agent was calling me up to ask where the hell I was, and I told him I'd had to cancel at the last minute
,' Connor explained wretchedly. '
I chickened out, Lillian.
'

I frowned, letting the duvet fall from me without noticing.

'But...why?' I asked. 'I thought you were excited about that movie...'

Connor sighed again, slightly impatiently.

'
Did you honestly think I could leave after making such a move?
' Connor said. '
I know I've done it before, but this time...
' He seemed to struggle to find words, then let out a breath. '
You know, I think we should be talking about this stuff in person rather than over the phone. I'll come by, shall I?
'

* * *

And so he was back. Without even having actually
left
. I had hesitated over letting him come...I was so confused, and I could just imagine Kate shaking her head at me and saying: 'Don't believe those corny lines, Lil - he's trying to trap you!'. But somehow I couldn't say no...after all, what did Kate really know about this lovely man? She just saw him as millions of others saw him - handsome, talented, irresistibly charismatic, and quite mysterious due to his protectiveness of his private life. I had once saw him, like she probably still did, as a bit of a womanizer. But now...

When I finally let Connor into my flat, I was no nearer working out what my attitude towards him should be than I was when he had called. He himself looked subdued and uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. I let him take a seat on the sofa, which was now clear of all duvet covers, and lit by the window I had just opened the curtains of. The morning light played in his hair, illuminating the bridge of each curl as he looked at me. I had taken pains to brush my teeth and get washed and dressed, so I was able to look back at him unflinchingly. However, I soon found my eyes straying to his lips...those lips that had kissed me only two days ago. My cheekbones pinkened, and I looked away. Oh, God...what could I say to him?

Luckily, it was Connor who spoke first.

'Lillian...I know that you know it's not in my habit to miss a plane to the US like this,' he said. 'But I was up all night,
thinking
. It's not often that I make a friend like you...I usually have to keep only superficial relationships, because it's so easy to have your entire personal life uncovered in one phone call to the 'razzi. I don't normally involve myself much...my closest friends have always been the ones I knew back in Scotland. But for some reason I find that I get along with you really, really well...it's not every day that I find someone I can talk to the way you and I talk. I think we have some things in common...and it's hard for me to leave someone I like so much,' he finished in a low undertone.

'But
why
?' I abruptly burst out, unable to stop the question I had asked myself so many times from coming out. 'What is it that you like about
me
? I mean...I'm not the prettiest person in the world, I don't have many friends, and
you
...you have your pick of the girls wherever you go! Why are you so interested in someone like
me
when there are so many richer, lovelier,
better
women out there?'

Connor's dark eyebrows frowned dangerously, his beautiful blue eyes glinting with sudden fury. 'Is tha' really how supairficial ye think I am?' he growled at me in outrage, his accent thickening suddenly as the Scottish temper got hold of his words. 'Ye think ah'm some shallow, stereotepic'l mouvie star who cannae care less aboot anythin' otherr than a lass's
looks
?'

'No,' I whispered, frozen, intimidated by this sudden rupture in Connor's usual languid calm. I had seen him fly off the handle on TV and in many films, but in real life it was really something different. I realised I must have upset him.

He probably saw the alarm in my eyes, because then he took control of himself again, lowering his tone.

'For God's sake, Lilly...' he murmured wearily. 'What more do I have to do to convince you that it's
you
I feel for? I've told you before...I love talking to you. You're different from anyone I've ever met since I started my movie career. And there's something about the way you try to be cool and calm that I'm becoming quite fond of...'

I reddened at the knowledge that he had known all along how nervous I sometimes was in his presence. I still could not believe what he was saying to me...I played my last card, trying hopelessly to find a hole in his argument. 'But...you and that Jess...aren't you...?'

He frowned, then realised and chuckled. 'Jess Carlston?' He shook his head as if addressing a confused child, and then came to kneel down before me, resting an elbow on my armchair. 'Lilly, you don't understand...there are
thousands
of women like her in the world. Being beautiful is not as rare as it used to be. But
you
, Lillian - there's something unique about you. You're not obsessed with how you look, or what to wear every day, or how to snare up the next guy. You just
live
, and I know very few people who really do that.'

'Oh...' was all I could say, thrown off by this revelation...and by his close proximity. What lovely aftershave he had on...

'Besides,' Connor added softly, 'you're not going to get rid of me that easily. My plane left yesterday, and my agent is going to personally murder me because I missed it.'

'Well, that wasn't a very sensible thing to do...' I answered absently, my eyes fixed on his, which were very close.