Hopelessly Devoted to Holden Finn (15 page)

Bonnie left Paige to clear up while she went into her own bedroom. Sitting on the bed, she pulled the crumpled letter from her pocket and read it again. She looked at the number on the top for the supposed PA. Was that even real? There was only one way to find out, but she would have to wait until her lunch break the following day to call.

***

‘You’re not coming to the Bounty?’ Linda asked.

‘I’m not that hungry today,’ Bonnie assured her. ‘I’ll grab a cup-a-soup. I’ve got to make a quick phone call too, and it has to be office hours.’

Linda’s expression darkened. ‘Not money trouble again? I’ve told you that me and John can lend you some –’

Bonnie shook her head vigorously. ‘No, nothing like that. Don’t worry, Lind, everything will work out with my finances soon.’ Bonnie hadn’t yet told her friend about Jeanie’s offer to let her and Paige have the house. There was a small part of her that still thought it was too good to be true, or that to say it out loud would be to somehow jinx it. She had given Linda a clue that things might be about to change in her fortunes, but that was as much as she dared hint at, and Linda had asked no more, content to wait for Bonnie to share her news when she was ready.

Linda shrugged. ‘I’ll bring you a carrot cake back; you’re bound to want a sugar rush this afternoon once Fred’s been nagging at you.’

Bonnie smiled. ‘Thanks, Lind.’

Linda pulled on her coat. Bonnie watched her leave the tiny kitchen and gave her a minute before closing the door and pulling her phone from her bag, along with the letter.

She dialled the number and waited.

‘Hello... I’ve been given this number for...’ Bonnie paused. If this was a huge wind up, then telling the person on the end of the phone line that she was ringing because Holden Finn had written to her would sound truly idiotic. ‘I had a note through the post to phone this number and arrange a meeting,’ she said instead, hoping it would be enough information to see her through any eventuality.

‘What’s your name?’ the woman on the other end of the line asked.

‘Bonnie Cartwright.’

‘Hmmm. Holden is free next Tuesday if you are. He did say that he could travel to see you if you needed, as the tour is in your area for a few nights.’

‘I can’t do weekdays,’ Bonnie said, not thinking about how unhelpful this might be and simply bewildered by the information that this letter seemed to be genuine after all.

‘Tuesday evening?’ the woman asked. ‘He could fit you in around five thirty, just before he has to be at the venue. He would have to be quick, though.’

Bonnie’s mind wandered back to the night of the concert, and their disastrous tryst in the dressing room. It seemed Holden Finn was too busy and important to do anything other than quickly.

‘I don’t know,’ Bonnie replied hesitantly, ‘I don’t finish work until five.’

‘I have Sunday afternoon otherwise; there’s no performance on Sunday,’ the woman said, ‘then the tour goes to Scotland... unless you can travel to Scotland?’ she asked in a haughty tone.

Sunday... Paige would want to know where Bonnie was going. What could she use as an excuse? She quickly made a decision.

‘I suppose I could do Sunday. Where do I need to go?’

‘Hang on the line, let me google some suitable venues. You do realise that the utmost discretion is required here?’

Bonnie grimaced.
Oh yeah, like I’m going to run a newspaper ad
. Then again, part of her thought that if she did invite half of Paige’s school along, it was no less than he deserved for being such a tit. ‘You’d better choose your venue carefully then,’ Bonnie returned coldly. ‘There’s not much that goes unnoticed in this town.’

‘Don’t worry, Bonnie, Holden is very good at this sort of thing by now.’

I bet he is
, Bonnie thought, wondering how many other women had needed hasty apologies in case they tried to sell their stories to the papers. After all, there could be no other reason for him going to so much trouble to meet with her.

***

Pulling onto the car park of The Screaming Nun pub and bistro, Bonnie noticed straight away the sleek, black Range Rover parked over by a sprawling rhododendron, its windows tinted and a private number plate that simply read
HF 4
. Bonnie parked alongside it. Usually, she was not the sort of person that cared what car she drove, as long as it got her from A to B and didn’t leave her stranded, but glancing up at the clearly expensive and probably customised car next to her, she suddenly felt ashamed of her battered old Toyota. As she killed her engine, she glanced up to see the car window lower and a young man look down at her. He wore a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, hair tucked tight beneath. Bonnie got out of the car and stood to look in.

‘Hey,’ Holden said with an awkward grin.

‘Hello,’ Bonnie said coldly. ‘I suppose you want me to get in the car so you can beg me or bribe me or whatever it is you usually do to keep women quiet.’

‘Actually,’ he nodded a head at the pub, ‘I’m going to buy you a drink. Is that ok?’

‘What?’

‘Let’s get a drink,’ he said. ‘In the pub.’

Bonnie glanced across at the building uncertainly. It looked old, possibly eighteenth century – not that she was any expert – immaculate grounds and freshly painted woodwork. It also looked expensive and very exclusive. Probably the sort of place where premiership footballers took their bits on the side and probably the sort of place where questions didn’t get asked and celebrities didn’t get bothered. But why Holden Finn wanted to take her there was still a mystery. He could say what he needed to right here and Bonnie could tell him where to stick it and then go home and get on with her life, putting the whole sorry business finally behind her.

‘I won’t try anything funny, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ he said, breaking in on her musings.

‘One drink,’ Bonnie decided. ‘Then I have to get home for Paige.’

Paige had been only too happy to sleep over at Annabel’s on the previous night and leave Bonnie’s Sunday free, with arrangements for Bonnie to pick her up in the evening in plenty of time to get ready for school the next day.

He smiled. ‘Cool.’ The window went up and Holden leapt down from the open door of the car, glancing swiftly around the car park and yanking his baseball hat down further over his head. It was just before midday, pretty early for Sunday diners and drinkers, so that the grounds were relatively deserted. As they walked into the bar, moving from murky daylight to ambient gloom, they could see that the bar was fairly empty too. Holden led them to a walled booth and slid in, Bonnie taking a seat opposite him. A waitress was at their table almost before they’d had time to say a single word to each other.

‘Would you like menus?’ she asked.

Holden shook his head. ‘I think we’re just going to have a drink. Unless...’ he looked at Bonnie. It was weird, but Bonnie could swear that it was almost a hopeful look. ‘Unless you want to eat?’ he asked.

‘I’m not hungry,’ Bonnie said. ‘A drink is fine with me. Can I just have a mineral water, I’m driving.’

‘Sure,’ Holden said. ‘I’ll have the same,’ he told the waitress, who nodded, giving Holden a curious look as she went.

He looked at Bonnie expectantly as they were left alone again. When she didn’t speak, he filled the silence instead. ‘I bet you’re wondering why I asked you to come.’

‘You could say that,’ Bonnie replied dryly.

‘What happened…’ He hesitated, seemingly unsure how to broach the subject.’

‘When you thought you’d try out the older woman theory?’ Bonnie offered icily.

‘I was drunk. And I was post-show. I can’t explain it, but after a show like that you feel... well, kind of invincible, like you rule the world or something. It makes you weird and it makes you do weird things. I just needed to let off some steam.’

‘Ok,’ Bonnie said in a level voice. ‘I get it. You’re sorry. Don’t worry, I won’t be selling my story or blackmailing you or anything else that you’ve been losing sleep over. And I haven’t told a soul.’

His expression relaxed. ‘I know you won’t. You’re not like the other girls I meet. You’re older, I know, but you’re just different. You don’t care about all that showbiz stuff and what you did... you know, you wouldn’t let me do what I wanted with you...’

Bonnie waited patiently for him to finish but he seemed at a loss for words. The waitress appeared and left their drinks with a warm smile. Then Holden continued.

‘I’ve never met anyone like you. I was angry the other night at the gig, sure I was. But then afterwards I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And look at you today...’ he smiled, his eyes now full of affection as he gazed appreciatively at her from under the brim of his cap, ‘you don’t care, just throw your jeans on even though you’re meeting Holden Finn and you look... amazing.’

Bonnie’s glass stopped halfway to her mouth and she stared at him.’ You are joking me, right? This is some sort of revenge where you pretend to like me and then humiliate me?’

‘No, Bonnie, I swear it’s not like that.’ He shook his head earnestly. ‘I fancy you like mad. I can’t understand it myself. Not that you’re not attractive,’ he added quickly, ‘but we shouldn’t be right for each other. I keep telling myself that but I can’t get you out of my head.’

‘What makes you think that I would still like you after what happened?’ Bonnie asked slowly.

‘You liked me before that, didn’t you?’ he asked, the ghost of a cocky smile about his lips.

‘That night changed everything.’

‘Scrub that. I wasn’t being myself. Let’s pretend it never happened and maybe try a date or something.’

‘Now I know you’re taking the piss.’

‘I’m not, God, Bonnie, I really mean it.’

Bonnie put her drink down and held him in a frank gaze. ‘Holden... explain to me how this works.’

He shot her a puzzled frown.

‘Even if what you’re telling me isn’t a wind up, I don’t see how it can happen. You’re on tour all the time,’ she elaborated, ‘you have young girls throwing themselves at you. You’re mobbed everywhere you go and every single move you make is reported and examined. How do you see a relationship with a thirty-five-year-old mother of one who works in a greengrocer’s and drives a battered Toyota Yaris being successful?’

‘We don’t have to tell anyone.’

‘Great, so I’d get to be your dirty little secret.’

‘I didn’t mean that, I just meant so you wouldn’t get loads of unwanted attention.’

Bonnie sighed. ‘It’s mental. Whatever bee is in your bonnet, you need to get rid of it. If this is a joke, then you’ve had your laugh. Otherwise, it’s a ridiculous idea.’

He grabbed her hand across the table and pulled her into an impulsive kiss. Shocked, she responded without thought, melting into it as their lips met. She felt the heat rise in her, the smell of him invading her senses and removing any grain of rational thinking. His words had seemed so earnest, what he had promised something she had dreamed of more times than she could count. It would be so easy to let him in.

After feverish moments, she broke off and gazed sadly at him.

‘It won’t work,’ she said, gathering her coat and sliding across the seat of the booth to leave.

‘What…’

‘Forget it. There’s no way this is happening.’

‘I won’t give up,’ she heard him call as she walked out the door. ‘I won’t stop until I get you!’

Eight

‘Bloody hell, Bonnie, you look like death warmed up,’ Linda observed as Bonnie shuffled into the back room of Applejack’s for the start of another week. ‘In fact, death warmed up would look like it had been given a Boots’ makeover standing next to you.’

‘Cheers,’ Bonnie grunted as she took her coat off.

‘Bad weekend?’

‘Try bad life.’

‘It can’t be that serious?’

Bonnie sighed. It wasn’t, not really. Her mum was practically giving her a house and Holden Finn was allegedly in love with her. She ought to be feeling like the luckiest woman alive. But she had tossed and turned in bed all night trying to figure out why she felt so wretched about it all. Perhaps it was the way each of those supposed gifts came with a condition – like every up had to come with a down to balance out the yin and yang of the world. Her mum was giving her a house, but was also moving thousands of miles away to live with a bloke she hardly knew, and as for Holden… well, she didn’t know what to make of that.

The usual morning knock came at the back door of the shop and Linda went to open it as Bonnie hung her coat and bag on the peg.

‘God, Max,’ Linda said as she stepped aside to let him in, ‘did you go to the same beauty salon as Bonnie? I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look more knackered than her but you’ve managed it.’

Max flashed a weary grin. ‘Thanks, you really know how to flatter a man.’

‘Hey, Max,’ Bonnie said as she came through into the stockroom.

‘So, what’s ailing you?’ he asked her.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Linda says you’re not well this morning.’

‘Oh, I’m ok, just didn’t sleep much.’

‘Something on your mind?’

‘Something like that,’ Bonnie said. She looked him over critically. ‘How about you? Something on
your
mind?’

‘Something like that,’ Max smiled faintly.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Linda cut in, ‘and then you two miserable sods can spill the beans.’

Bonnie exchanged a concerned look with Max. Whatever it was that was on their minds, it didn’t seem like either of them wanted to share it.

Fred poked his head around the door of the stockroom. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said, giving Max a brusque nod. He switched his attention to Bonnie. ‘Are you coming to restock these apples or what?’

Bonnie sighed. ‘I’m on my way, give me a minute to get in the door, will you?’

Fred disappeared back into the main shop and Bonnie shrugged apologetically at Max, who was frowning as he watched Fred go.

‘Bonnie,’ Max began slowly, ‘is it me or has Fred got more hair these days?’

Bonnie chuckled softly as she fastened her tabard and went to stack the apples.

Linda came back through from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. She handed one to Max. ‘Where’s Bon?’ she asked.