Just a Fan (46 page)

Even though it deeply annoyed him, I could not help laughing at this.

'I think I've seen that one...' I chuckled fondly.

'Don't laugh at me!' he ordered in indignation, with a stormy frown that only made me laugh even harder. When I didn't stop after three seconds, he turned on his heel and marched off.

'Conn!' I called after him, jogging to catch up. 'Conn...' I repeated more softly, grabbing onto his arm and looking up into his brooding face. 'Look...I know it's come as a huge surprise and you might not feel ready -'

'Too right there.'

I chose to ignore this. '
I
still need time to get used to the idea, but
think
about it. This is
our
baby, Connor.' I made an attempt at an encouraging smile. 'Don't you like the thought of having a little daughter or son?'

He pouted stubbornly, inconsolable. 'No.'

I stopped and crossed my arms in outrage, glaring at him.

'You are the most
insensitive
,
unkind
-'

'Lilly,
please
!' Connor growled, wheeling round to face me, fully serious now. 'I never even
thought
about having weans during the past fifteen years. Of course I don't feel ready to become a
father
, for God's sake - I'm no paternal figure at all. I'd make a shit parent...I mean,
look
at me! I'd never be at home, and the bairn would probably pick up all my bad habits -'

Now his negative attitude was getting me angry. 'Well, if you hated the idea of having kids so much, then you should have been more
careful
!' I yelled at him, incensed.

'We
were
bein' careful!' he yelled back. 'How was I to know it didn't always work?'

'I thought you
liked
kids!'

'Yeah - when they're past the dribbling stage and they're somebody
else's
problem!'

My face coloured with rage, hardly believing how selfish and heartless he was being. 'Problem?
Problem?
'

Connor seemed to have realised he had not expressed himself decently in his temper, and closed his mouth.

Hurt as I was, I managed to fix him with a steady, albeit resentful, gaze. 'So...you think I should probably have an abortion, then?' I demanded bravely in a quieter, but far colder tone, my heart still thumping.

The fire seemed to have gone out of him; that blazing temper had cooled. His lips parted briefly, but he could not seem to find what to say. Finally, he sighed and hung his head.

'Lilly...you know that's not what I meant,' he told me in a low, soft voice. The way his gaze could not meet mine told all of his sudden flood of guilt. 'I...I'm so sorry. I just...panic...' He shook his head slowly, and then sank heavily down onto the sofa. 'I'm not a reasonable guy...I get angry when I get scared - that's what we all had to learn to do back when Ten-Pints MacGowan was still roaming the streets, and I've never been able to get rid of it.' He sounded so bitterly dejected that I slowly came over and sat beside him.

'But
why
are you scared?'I asked him gently.

Those wide shoulders shrugged. 'It's just a bit of a shock, that's all,' he replied, knowing full well what an understatement that was. 'It'll take a lot of getting used to...'

'Speak for yourself,' I answered drily. 'Who has to go through all the hormone crap and the -' I gestured vaguely around my stomach, '
bigness
.'

Connor sighed. 'Hmmph,' he said. He seemed to have fully calmed down now. 'To think all this has happened in consequence to me walking into you, just once.'

I chuckled, then my eyes widened in mild horror. 'And what am I going to tell my
mother
?'

'Ooooh...' Connor murmured in sympathy. I looked at him. He put on a "guilty little boy" expression for my benefit, complete with the finger on the mouth. 'She's going to know we've been a bit naughty, isn't she?'

I knew he was trying to cheer me up to make up for the fight we had just had, and I didn't care, allowing myself to laugh with him.

'Well,' I said thoughtfully, leaning back and resting my head tentatively against his chest. 'Even though this might not exactly be the right
time
for all of this to happen - seeing as we happen to be in a city
penthouse
with
white carpets
...' I nibbled my lower lip. 'I suppose we
do
have time to sort of...get used to things. I mean, the doctor did say seven months...that's a large part of a year, isn't it? We have time.'

'Mmm,' replied Connor, then gave a laugh.

I frowned, curious. 'What?'

He smiled at me. 'I'd like to congratulate you for winning our first married-couple argument,' he told me. 'And for magically calming my infamous temper.' He winked at me, then added: 'There's no' many that can do that.'

Epilogue

It was, as usual, a very normal Saturday morning, and I was strolling happily through the town and minding my own business. The weather was, once again, of the typically English, overcast type: grey, cloudy, and with no sun to speak of...

The morning had been a long one; despite the fact I had long been freed from my boring job, there had been many things to do. It was nice to be back in England, and living in a comfortable, roomy house. My mother was certainly glad; she had come to visit three times already, and Connor's parents had recently been down from the North to visit the new addition to the MacGowan family. As for Connor himself, several months ago we had had some long discussions and decided that he should continue his hard-earned career in acting, but on the condition that he didn't leave the country for too too long. Not that this was a particular problem...when, after a lengthy, physically demanding pregnancy during which my dear husband was so maddeningly paranoid about me, Connor's tiny son was finally handed to him, he could barely bring himself to leave him.

Yes, it was a little boy we had - a little boy who, I might add, spent several weeks soundly kicking in my kidneys before his birth. It was quite an experience, having a baby...one I took quite a while to recover from. But I really was grateful for Connor's support; movie star though he was, he always got up willingly when James MacGowan started wailing at four in the morning...

Well, most of the time, anyway.

Things had settled into a manageable sort of routine, now. During the first month or two after our son's birth, Connor had flatly refused all film roles offerred to him, so attached he was to his new child. Fatherhood actually suited Connor; seeing him chattering away to a, er...bubbling...baby was so heartwarming. His previous doubts seemed to have vanished, and he had now fully accepted the responsibility of being a parent. Also, it had been brilliant to see the reactions of Connor's mother and father when they came to visit, too - Kathleen's expression, in particular, had been priceless. And when Connor was busy being congratulated by his father, she told me in private just how sincerely thankful she was that Connor and I had met. She confessed to me how worried she had always been about Connor's personal life, and how
proud
she was to see him now, successful, and a husband and new father on top of all that.

Those thoughts brought a smile to me now, as I walked down that pavement just as I had so very, very long ago. At the moment, Connor had been called away to Los Angeles, where he was so very kindly attending countless interviews and appearing on talk shows for the benefit of the thousands of fans who had been stricken by his disappearance, and been kept on tenterhooks by the various rumours of our having a child. As I walked, I smiled. They would all be amazed to hear the news, that was for sure...

The little corner shop was quiet, as it was on most Saturdays. I was now familiar with the benign, aging woman who ran it, even though she never suspected who I was. To her, I was just a very content young mother with a gurgling baby boy to buy weekly supplies for - and that was entirely fine with me.

Today I had brought little James with me, seeing as his father was reluctantly away. Now that he was reaching that age when he became curious about everything, he had refused to remain in his pushchair from the moment we entered the shop. I was obliged to carry him instead, but fortunately I was still entirely capable of picking up his week's supply of nappies without too much bother.

'You're just like your Daddy, you know that?' I grumbled fondly at James, whose stubborn, persistent protestations had kept him out of the pushchair. 'You just won't give up until you have your own way...'

'Bah,' agreed James, staring up at the long light fixtures on the ceiling. It was true that he took after Connor in many odd little ways; according to Connor, he even took after
me
, too. I smiled. The fine hair that covered James' rounded head was dark, and in very familiar curls. As for his eyes, they could not seem to decide whether to be dull green like mine, or a murkier version of Connor's. And even though he had not yet started to speak properly, I always fancied that I could already detect a faint hint of gruff Glaswegian in his voice...

As I made my way to the counter with a pushchair and a bag of nappies in one hand, and James' light, warm weight supported by the other, I spotted something that caught my attention on a couple of the gossip magazines arranged alongside the aisle. Grinning, I somehow managed to grab them both and carry them over to the counter, where the bespectacled lady sat beaming at James.

I put my purchases up on the counter, and she busily prodded at the till, picking up a plastic bag for me at the same time. When she saw the two glossy magazines on the countertop - both of them bearing a big photo of my dear Connor, looking very charming and with a new, different sort of radiance to him - she chuckled.

'Everyone seems to be mad about this man nowadays,' she remarked conversationally, putting them in the bag. 'He's Scottish, I hear...I take it you like him and his films, too, then?'

I smiled a secretive smile as I hitched Connor's babbling son higher on my hip, and replied modestly:

'I'm just a fan...'

* * *

THE END

Copyright © 2015 by Emily Austen