Just a Fan (34 page)

I raised my eyebrows at him. 'I didn't know you were musical on top of everything else,' I commented, impressed. Connor grinned bashfully.

'Ach, I'm not
tha'
musical,' he replied modestly, tuning the strings. 'I jus' used tae play sometimes in bars for a few extra pounds, and sing as well...'

'Show me!' I requested eagerly, since I had never heard Connor play an instrument before.

He smiled, and then began to strum out a series of rather melodic chords, saying to me: 'Ah'm a bit rusty - I havnae played since I was about twenty...'

I sat on the bed, listening keenly. He was surprisingly good, even though he didn't let it on. I was guessing that he had been more or less self-taught...

His fingers easily changed position upon the fretboard, as if he had played this tune so often it was instinctive. A few bars later, he began to sing - and I found myself completely captivated by his smooth, mellow baritone. He had just the right voice for singing; it rang out perfectly with the notes of his guitar. I sat there, dreamlike, with a big smile on my face as I listened. All too soon, though, he faltered on a note and then just finished with a quick final chord.

'...and I cannae remember the rest,' he laughed bashfully.

'Wow,' I said, still amazed. 'You're brilliant! Why didn't you ever
say
?'

Connor shrugged. 'I didnae think I was tha'
guid
...'

'Of course you are!' I assured him excitedly. 'You have a lovely voice...you're so good you could record your own songs!'

He frowned thoughtfully. 'Ye think?' he asked. 'I've never really considered it...'

'
Dinner's oot!
' called a cheery voice from downstairs. Connor smiled, brushing more dust from his old guitar, and then rested it carefully against the cupboard door, turning back to me.

'Let's go down an' eat, shall we?'

Chapter 23

Family

'Ah've made some chappit tatties tonight,' Kathleen announced, putting a big bowl onto the dinner table. 'Ah know ye like them, Connor.'

Connor grinned, then noticed my confused look and explained: 'Mashed potato, Lilly.'

'Oh, right - yeah,' I replied hurriedly, another mysterious word elucidated. Not that it really mattered, after all - the still-steaming bowl of mashed potato was so perfect and even and golden that it was impossible to mistake.

'Ah'm so sorry - ah keep forgettin' tha' oor clishmaclaiver mus' sound strange tae ye, Lillian!' chuckled Kathleen, serving out generous helpings of potato. 'Do say if ye're no' understandin' anythin'...'

'Thanks, Kathleen, tha's geylies,' Craig said to her, before he could be given more potato than he could cope with.

Once we were all served, I found that it was no wonder Connor liked this dish so much. Kathleen had obviously had years of culinary experience, resulting in one of the best meals I had ever tasted. Along with the salmon she had prepared, my first dinner in Glasgow was absolutely delicious. And, as it happened, also very filling.

'No, thanks,' I said to Kathleen as she offerred me yet another helping. 'It's very tasty indeed, but I'm just stuffed.'

'Ah'm freely foonered too - ah'm no' for nae mair,' agreed Craig, also denying a third plateful.

She chuckled. 'Alreet, then,' she replied, then turned to Connor. 'Ye want mair, son?'

Connor grinned widely. 'Yes, please,' he answered, holding out his plate for the last portion of salmon and mashed potato. I inwardly goggled at him. I had lost count of how many helpings he had had - it was amazing how quickly and efficiently he polished off what was on his plate. Manly appetites never ceased to astound me...

Once everything on the table had been cleared, and we had all finished Kathleen's lovingly made pudding, I was ready to fall asleep right where I sat. It had been a very long day indeed, what with our two plane journeys and my big discovery of Connor's family life. Connor himself seemed also exhausted, because even though he took part in the table conversation, his eyes were half-shut.

'I think we'll be off to beid now, me and Lilly,' he eventually said, apparently having noticed my own tiredness.

'Is it tha' jet-laggy thing agehn?' asked Kathleen sympathetically.

'Och, ye dae look jeeked,' said Craig. 'Best get ye aff tae beid, aye.'

'Goodnight, then,' replied Connor, and after we had all said our own goodnights (with the exception of Mr MacGowan Senior's cheery, gruff "guidnicht"), the two of us went upstairs for a well-earned rest.

'I'll be with ye in a minute, Lilly - I'm just gonnae pop downstairs for a while,' Connor told me as I sat down on the bed, ready to just crash for the night.

'Alright, then,' I replied sleepily, hoping he wouldn't be gone for long. Connor smiled and then, after giving me a quick kiss on the forehead, left the room. As soon as he went out I screwed my eyes up and rubbed my forehead. His stubble had been growing back with a vengeance these past few days, and while it looked rather ruggedly appealing physically, it just felt like sandpaper whenever in close proximity to my skin.

Nevertheless, it wasn't as if I actually
minded
that much...after all, if going out with a widely-acclaimed actor meant putting up with his infrequent shaving, I wasn't complaining! Smiling to myself, I lay down upon the bed. Springs, I noticed...although it felt odd at first, I soon found it quite comfortable. I lay on my back, arms and legs spread wide beneath the cool sheets that smelled unfamiliar but wonderfully fresh and flowery. My eyes half-focused on the still lit ceiling, and my thoughts began to drift.

Connor had said that this had been his own bedroom, when he had lived here...my mouth twitched in a vague smile. It was strange to think that many, many years ago, Connor had spent time and slept in this very room as a teenager, perhaps staring up at the ceiling as he lay in bed, just as I was doing now. He never would have imagined, then, that in about fifteen or twenty years time thousands of people would know his name, and millions more would see him on TV every day, all over the world. He never would have thought that he would make countless women fall for his candid charm and brilliantly charismatic personality - myself included among them. He probably would have laughed if someone had told him that by the age of thirty, he would have gone out with several supermodels and actresses...and that after all of them, he would have settled for me instead. Just me, a woman like any other, with not even a fifth of the looks his previous lady-friends had. Even
I
thought he was crazy...but still, undeniably, the best thing that had ever happened to me.

Feeling sentimental and in need of a hug before I started snoring without him, I lightly slipped out of bed again and quietly made my way across the landing. I wondered what he could be up to down there...I stopped to listen.

All I could hear was the sound of muffled conversation from behind one of the doors downstairs. Even so, I could detect a very promising positive tone to the indistinguishable murmuring. The clink of ceramic plates and the indistinct hiss of a tap indicated there was some washing-up going on. After a minute or two had gone by, I felt a bit silly standing on my own, just around the corner from the top of the stairs, waiting for Connor to come up. Yawning widely, I was about to traipse back to the bedroom when a door opened downstairs and the hiss of water got fractionally louder.

'Aye, that's reight,' Connor was chuckling, and by the sound of it he was leaving the kitchen. 'Ah'm off, then. 'Night.'

'Whoa theer a wee seicont, lad,' I heard his father say, coming out into the corridor with him. There was a pause, and then he continued: 'So - ye're takkin her til the picturs tae see yer mouvies, eh no?'

'Aye,' replied Connor, an slightly softer tone coming into his voice.

'Thir's a bonny lass, 'deed,' remarked Craig. 'She's seemin' a guid chancie feind. Ye gang fur tha' kin o' lassie, na?'

'For her, ah do...' Connor admitted. I could hear his smile in his words.

'It's nae ev'ryone who haes the like o' tha',' Craig told him.

Another short pause, and then:

'Gonnae be marryin' her, are ye no'?' he asked.

I knew I should be back in the bedroom and not listening in like this, but I was frozen on the spot, waiting with bated breath for Connor's response. My skin tingled at the unbelieveable possibility that Craig mentioned...

I heard Connor give a sigh.

'Ach, ah don't
know
...' he replied, his voice so full of negative uncertainty that I felt oddly disappointed. 'Thir's so much goin' on at the moment, ye see...we havnae been thinkin' aboot it at all lately.'

'Be cannie, Connor,' Craig warned quietly. 'Yer wirkin' mey be most important the noo, but when yer as auld as I am, ye wouldnae want tae be wishin' ye'd married sooner.' There was a brief silence, and then he continued: 'Ah ken ye hae yer ain adae, what wi' yer filmin' an' all tha', but see, lad - as weel soon as syne to get yokit tae a lass like her.'

'Aye...I know wha' yer sayin',' agreed Connor, somewhat heavily. 'I'm open to the idea, and it's a neice thought...but ah'm no' shuir whether ma work would get in the wie. An' I've put the puir lass's through enough already, too, so I have no idea if she wants to settle doun yet, or if it'd put too much pressure on her to be movin' so quick...'

Craig scoffed. 'Connor, lad, ye're therty-one!' he countered. 'Ah'd been married for feive years, the teime ah wis yer age! If ye're no' cannie, the both o' ye'll be weel pas' the age of haein' a proper family...'

'I don't want tae force her into anythin' too fast, though - ah don't even know if she
wants
to make things official yet...'

I heard Craig chuckle. 'Connor, Connor, ah can
see
ye're gang hail-heidit for her - an' she you, as weel!' he told him. 'Dinnae fash yersel' aboot wha' ye think she thinks...it's all fou clear tae
me
.'

There was another silence, and finally Connor replied: '...ah'll think it over.'

That seemed to satisfy his father, because I heard them saying their goodnights - which I took as my cue to beat a hasty retreat back to the bedroom. Even though I had initially wanted to meet Connor at the top of the stairs, I now found it was best to give him a few moments alone as he came up. I myself felt slightly breathless at this notion of being actually
married
. It seemed I had made such a good impression on his parents that already his father could see us well and truly together...

Safely tucked up in bed now, I felt a blush creep to my cheeks. Connor as my husband...that was, quite possibly, the weirdest and most unexpected possibility that had ever come to me in my entire existence.

When Connor came into the bedroom, he didn't immediately get into bed after turning off the lights; he paused for a few moments in the doorway, gazing at me reflectively. After a short while, though, I heard him come over, rummage around a bit in his half-unpacked suitcase as he put away his clothes, and then make his way to the bedside. In the comfortable darkness, I smiled as the mattress sagged on his side, and I lay still, listening to the rustle of sheets next to me. Connor lay unmoving for a moment or two, and then I heard him ask in a hushed voice: 'You asleep?'

'Not yet,' I replied.

'Come here,' he murmured, and drew me into his arms, resting his cheek against the top of my head. I put an arm around him too, feeling wonderfully safe in his reassuring embrace. The scent of his warm skin so near made me instantly relax, even as I wondered in the back of my mind whether he would bring up the subject he had been discussing with his father just a moment ago.

However, he only sighed gently against my hair, his fingers loosely curling into the material of my nightdress. It was apparent that he simply wanted to rest now, and I certainly could not blame him...resignedly, I rested my forehead closer to the warmth of his chest and also closed my eyes.

I woke up to find the sun had only just begun to rise outside, casting a dim, golden-orange light that filtered through the small gap in the curtains. I dreamily watched the tiny dust particles drift through the beam of faint sunlight for a while, and then curled up closer to Connor, who was still sleeping like a log. In the soft, watery dawn light, I looked up to see the strong outline of his broad shoulders glowing dimly, each black curl on his head illuminated. He looked absolutely heavenly - I wanted to kiss him right there and then, but at the same time I knew he had earned a good rest.

Still feeling a bit tired myself, I let my eyes close once again, drifting off to sleep -

Abruptly, I became aware of something heavy and lumpy lodged right behind my knees. Curious, I nudged it slightly, but to no effect. It was probably just some bunched-up bedcovers...

To my surprise, the lump shifted. Eyes still shut, I frowned, wondering what -

'
Prrp
.'

A cold, wet nose sniffed my exposed ear, a set of whiskers brushing my skin.

'Ahh!' I screwed my eyes up, pulling a face as the cat finished avidly sniffing me, and then calmly climbed over my head to get to Connor. A ringed tail swished against my cheek as Biscuits contentedly settled herself down on the pillow directly in between us. I looked up and giggled quietly as a whirring, rumbling purr started up, and Biscuits began to delicately sniff Connor's thick curls. Apparently finding that he smelled very nice, she began to busily lick his hair with a pink tongue, as if cleaning a kitten.