Always With Love (2 page)

‘You excited?’ I ask,
once we’ve been escorted through passport control by the awaiting ground staff, reclaimed our baggage and are about to walk through the arrivals gate, finally on our way to leaving the airport and meeting Billy’s family.

‘Ecstatic!’ he beams. ‘Can’t wait to relax in some hot weather. Christmas on the hill has been amazing, but I need some vitamin D! Plus, it’ll be nice to just chill out and do nothing with my family.’

‘I work you so hard,’ I tease, knowing that my words are actually full of truth.

As it was my first Christmas as the owner of Molly’s-on-the-Hill, I wanted everything to be just right. Left to me in my old friend Molly’s will, I was determined to make sure the shop ran at its best with every mince pie cooked to perfection, every Christmas pudding boozily soaked to the max and festive cheer seeping from every nook and cranny. Having worked in the shop for almost ten years and Molly passing on everything she knew, I think I managed it.

The whole thing was made even more special when Colin asked my mum to marry him in the most surprising and romantic proposal ever in the shop itself (I’d even, unwittingly, been an accomplice to his plans, thanks to him anonymously emailing and asking for my help). They
were both still in a giddy bubble when we left them, a state I’m thrilled to see my mum in.

Actually, I’m blooming grateful for the two of them. I’d arranged for Billy and me to go to LA as a surprise Christmas present, but it’s only been made possible by them volunteering to step in and run the shop for the two weeks we’re away. I’m sure Colin’s children, Aaron, who’s ten, and Charlotte, who’s eight, will lend a helping hand too. They really are the cutest little humans. It’s been lovely getting to know them more over the last few months. Funny how easily I’ve slotted into the role of big sister – I feel so protective of them already.

‘I’m just looking forward to having a bit of Sophie May time away from cakes and pretty bunting,’ Billy nudges, pulling my thoughts away from my life in Rosefont Hill and all the people I’ve left behind for two whole weeks.

‘And I’m looking forward to having some Billy Buskin time away from all of your fans in the village,’ I laugh as we step through the doors and into the arrivals hall.

We’re welcomed by the frantic sound of clicking and lights flashing manically as a dozen or so paparazzi surge forward and stick their cameras in our direction.

‘Brilliant timing,’ winks Billy, his eyes widening as he holds his elbow out for me to grab on to while he pushes our luggage trolley towards the rabble – going through them is our only way out.

‘Billy Buskin, what brings you here?’ one yells, his camera hiding his face.

‘Good to have you back!’ says another.

‘You here for filming, Billy?’ asks a woman, sticking a
dictaphone in his face, clearly hoping for a quote. ‘Or is it just for the holidays?’

Billy does nothing but stare ahead, ignoring their calls and questions.

Meanwhile, I try my best not to look baffled and horrified by the whole thing. I’m not one for attention and would much rather blend into the background unnoticed, away from the judgement of others. Although I should have realized there’d be a hubbub waiting for us when we got here. It is, after all, Hollywood – the land of movies.

Above the commotion we hear a shriek and see arms madly waving behind the heads of the photographers. It’s only as the paparazzi part (through fear of getting run over by the huge metal trolley Billy’s ploughing towards them) that they reveal Billy’s family excitedly waving at us. His mother Julie is gripping hold of her husband Clive’s arm, her eyes shiny with tears at just the sight of Billy standing metres away from her. Clive nods as his son approaches, his face joyously pinging into the same wonderful smile as Billy’s. In fact, looking at the siblings, that’s the one facial characteristic they all share – gigantic toothy grins from their big mouths. They’re rather infectious.

Billy stops and just stares at them all, echoing their happiness with his own brilliant grin. He visibly relaxes, and his body literally softens from the comfort of being surrounded by family, even though the press are still just a few feet away from us all.

‘You’re here!’ sighs Julie breathlessly, her hand on her heart, her face full of pride and almost disbelief, as though
she never thought the day would come when Billy would be back with them.

The twins jump on Billy first. They’re identical and unified in their look, both appearing chic in their boho style of floaty clothes, which is complemented by wavy light brown hair cascading over their slim shoulders in perfect symmetry. I imagine they really enjoy getting ready together in the mornings.

Julie and Clive step forward next, with Julie literally bashing the others away to clear the path to her oldest son. Not one thing about her screams ‘mum’. Instead, she’s elegant, graceful, pampered to perfection and long-limbed. She looks incredible for her age without a single wrinkle on her agelessly smooth, tanned skin and her blonde hair seems so soft in its tousled waves that I experience a sudden urge to touch it. Clive, on the other hand, still looks like a plumber from Surrey with his baggy jeans, light-blue buttoned t-shirt and trainers. A fact that makes me smile, even though I’m sure the whole lot is probably now designer clothing rather than stuff found on the high street. I like the fact that he’s still so clearly connected to his roots and is true to the man he was before he came here. It makes me instantly warm to him.

When she’s finally in front of him, Julie grabs Billy by both cheeks and pulls her face into his.

‘God, I’ve flipping missed you,’ she whispers without even moving her jaw. She then gently pulls his cheeks forward and back in a way I can imagine she’s done since he was a young boy – it’s incredibly endearing to watch. The whole reunion is enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Billy doesn’t share quite the same emotion as me; instead
he pulls a face as though he’s embarrassed (something I know he’s doing for comic value) and backs away slightly, grimacing at his dad.

‘Get used to it,’ Clive laughs in response, patting him on the shoulder as he steps forward and gives Billy the manliest of man hugs. Although he too seems unable to stop himself from literally breathing Billy in.

Billy’s younger sister Lauren is the first to acknowledge and greet me, not that the omission from the others worries me at all. It’s clear they’re far too caught up in having Billy back in their company to see the girl standing a few feet from his side. But not Lauren. She doesn’t head towards him like the others, instead she flings her arms around me as though we’re best friends, her sweet floral perfume tickling my nostrils. I’m usually one for boundaries and keeping my personal space (even my own mum rarely hugs me), but it seems this family are a tactile bunch and that there’s going to be a lot of touchy-feely behaviour over the coming weeks. Something I make a mental note to prepare myself for.

Despite the invasion, I instantly like her. Lauren’s dark brown eyes twinkle in the same cheeky way Billy’s do, although her face is far more delicate and feminine than his. Her nose is thinner and more button-like, her cheeks are rosier and her lips are a wondrously shiny red. Besides the lipstick, she looks as though she’s ready to hit the beach at any moment. Not just because she’s in sandals but because her white bikini is peeking out beneath her pale denim hotpants and round her neck under her cropped pink vest top. Her dark hair is pulled back into a messy top bun, on top of which sits a pair of black
Ray Ban sunglasses. She looks cool, relaxed, approachable and kind.

‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ Lauren sings, hopping from one leg to the other while her arm is still draped around my neck.

‘Is this the first time you’ve met her?’ calls out one of the photographers, having overheard and decided we’ve had long enough to enjoy greeting each other without being interrupted – they’ve got a job to do, after all.

‘Get together and face us. Give us a happy family shot,’ another barks in a less than polite manner, as if it’s something we’re required to do. We’re not, although his outburst draws my eye to their attention and the drone coming from the cameras as their shutters close and open at quick speed – a sound that has been so continuous since our arrival that I hadn’t even picked up on it.

‘No chance,’ Lauren says flatly, raising an eyebrow at him before taking me by the hand and pulling me towards the rest of the family so that my back is turned to the photographers and the gathered crowd.

I love her for sensing my discomfort and being a physical shield.

‘Sophie,’ Julie sighs with a smile as she spots me, her head flopping to one side as she says it. She reaches out an arm and drapes it around me. I’m surprised at the softness of the embrace despite her thin frame. ‘Thanks for bringing him back.’

‘I think Billy could’ve booked a flight if he really wanted to see us, Mum,’ grins one of the twins who I’m guessing is Hayley simply because her face is ever so slightly fuller than Jenny’s – a sneaky tip Billy gave me in telling them apart.

‘I feel like we know each other already,’ Julie continues, ignoring her daughter who’s grinning behind her. She grips hold of my shoulder and gives it a squeeze, her skin remaining flawless as she smiles at me.

‘Where’s Jay?’ Billy asks, looking around past the group and further into the arrivals hall.

‘Oh, you noticed,’ says Julie, her lips pursing in disdain, clearly hoping Billy wouldn’t ask after his youngest sibling who he seemed so excited about seeing.

‘Of course. Where is he?’ he asks, frowning at her.

‘Still in New York,’ offers Hayley (the ever-so-slightly chubbier twin), bored of waiting for their mum to spit out his whereabouts.

‘What?’ asks Billy, his face dropping. ‘Why? Didn’t he know I was coming?’

I watch as Billy looks more hurt with each question he asks.

‘He did, but … things are hectic for him there,’ Julie reasons, looking at Clive to see if he’ll help her explain. He looks down at his trainers as though he’s not even a part of the conversation.

‘So he’s not going to be in LA at all while I’m here?’

‘No, he’s not,’ Julie sighs, before looking back at Billy with (what is clearly) a forced smile, ‘You know what it’s like – final year of uni while juggling a job. He really wishes he could be here though. Phoned us on the way.’

‘Right,’ Billy nods, managing to smile back. ‘Understandable.’

He might be a world-class actor, but I see the sadness in his eyes at the absence of his little brother and it pains me greatly. I’ve never heard Billy say anything but sweet
things about Jay, so I’m not surprised he’s disappointed when he’s spent the last few days thinking they were going to be reunited. It’s got to sting a bit to know he hasn’t made the effort to see him – not that I know anything about his situation.

‘Shall we get out of here before it gets crazy?’ Lauren asks, breaking the awkward tension that’s descended upon us.

I look around and spot two more paparazzi join the crowd with their cameras poised in our direction.

‘Yes please!’ groans Billy, already pushing the trolley towards the exit.

‘I’ll get that,’ his dad says, taking over and ignoring Billy’s protests. ‘James is out front waiting.’

‘But I drove us kids,’ says Jenny, waving around her keys.

‘New car?’ asks Billy.

‘A G-wagon. It’s totally awesome,’ she grins.

‘I bet.’

‘You’re coming in with James,’ Julie says hastily, nodding towards the exit door while giving Billy a warning look. ‘You’re not getting away from me that quickly, young man.’

‘Fair enough,’ he shrugs, raising his eyebrows at me. ‘See you guys at home, though. Yeah?’ he calls after his siblings.

‘Yep,’ answers Hayley with a grin, before following her twin who’s already started floating off through the terminal building towards her brand spanking new car.

‘I’m coming with you,’ smiles Lauren, jumping ship from the kids’ car to the one with her parents and us. It’s
only when she tugs on my arm excitedly that I realize she’s been holding my hand the entire time.

‘Who’s James?’ I whisper to her, not wanting to offend anyone in case I’ve forgotten the name of an uncle, granddad or distant relative that’s residing with them over here. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a relation called James, but it’s best to be sure rather than get myself in an awkward situation.

‘The driver,’ she says simply.

‘Oh yes,’ I nod, still finding the fact that they have staff hilarious. ‘So weird.’

‘Everyone has a driver,’ says Lauren flatly, her eyebrows knotted, looking confused as to why I might find it an alien concept. Surely she’s not forgotten simpler times in England when they didn’t have such a luxury. ‘Besides, everything’s so far apart in LA. You’re pretty screwed without a car.’

‘I see. Well, I don’t drive either,’ I admit.

It’s just something I never got round to doing. I did think about taking lessons in my early twenties, but then reasoned I could manage without it seeing as I’d coped that long without being able to, anyway.

‘No, I have a licence,’ Lauren says, looking shocked that I never got mine. ‘And I have a car.’

‘Oh?’ I ask, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

‘Yeah, I don’t always use James,’ she reasons.

‘I see …’

‘We have to share him between the lot of us, you know.’

‘You’re almost deprived,’ I tease.

‘Tell me about it,’ she grins, pulling my arm so that our shoulders bash together.

Stepping outside the airport I’m hit by a waft of heat as the sunshine bears down on me. The intense warmth is a shock to my body – hardly surprising as it’s been in freezing cold England and then on an air-conditioned flight for the last eleven or so hours. But the new warmth instantly soothes my body with a tingling sensation, the vitamin D quickly dispersing along my bare skin and working its magic.

‘James,’ Billy calls, ignoring the gaggle of photographers who have decided to follow us to the car.

A tall, burly man, dressed in a black suit and white shirt, nods in Billy’s direction and opens the door of a huge blacked-out SUV for us all to climb into.