Billy and Me

by Giovanna Fletcher

  ‘Well, we’ll see about that, shall we?’ he says, raising his eyebrows at me.

  Billy’s always been amazed at the fact that I’d managed to raise so much simply from working in a teashop, so I know he’d hate to see me dwindle it away now.

  ‘I just want you to realize that what’s mine is yours,’ he continues. ‘You don’t even have to ask – just take one of my cards and keep it with you.’

  ‘No! I couldn’t do that!’ I protest.

  ‘Of course you could. Seriously, we’re a team. I hate the thought of me eating out at The Ivy or somewhere and you stressing over whether you can afford a sandwich from M&S. It’s stupid.’

  ‘M&S? Do you realize how much their sandwiches cost?’ I ask with a laugh – Billy’s understanding of money and how much things should cost are so different to mine. ‘Look, it’s a very nice offer but I’ve not had to rely on anyone else for money for a long time. There’s no way I can just start now,’ I explain.

  ‘You won’t be relying on me. Just take one of my cards and act like it’s yours,’ he pleads.

  ‘But what would I do with all that free time?’ I ask.

  ‘Spend it with me? Or walk around London? Visit museums and do all the touristy things you’ve not done yet?’ he says with a grin. ‘Come on. Surely anything is better than working in a place where you’re not valued?’

  ‘I guess so.’

  Could there be a way of this actually working without me feeling like I’m taking the mickey and sponging off Billy? Is there a way of keeping some independence and maintaining some sort of structure?

  ‘What about if I clean and do all the washing?’ I offer.

  Billy raises his eyebrows at me, not sold on the idea.

  ‘No, listen. If I do that then at least I’d feel like I’m earning my keep. I won’t feel like I’m just scrounging off you.’

  ‘So you’d rather fill up your time with cleaning and washing?’

  ‘Billy, it’s a two-bedroom flat – there honestly won’t be much to do. I can do it all while you’re at work. I’ve never understood why you had a cleaner anyway!’

  ‘All right, then,’ he finally agrees, even though he doesn’t seem thrilled to do so. ‘This means that at the moment we’ll be together in the days, all day long …’

  ‘Yep,’ I say excitedly.

  ‘And with no job to wake up for in the mornings you can come and meet me out for dinner or whatever after the show.’

  ‘If you like!’ I say, trying to hide the fact that I’m not overly keen on the idea.

  ‘But most of the time I can come and meet you back here and we can just chill?’

  ‘Sounds perfect!’

  ‘You know the only reason I’ve not come back is because I’ve known you’d be asleep and I haven’t wanted to wake you. You know that, right? It’s never been because I haven’t wanted to spend time with you,’ he says earnestly.

  ‘I know …’

  ‘Promise me that if ever you feel low or unhappy you’ll tell me, OK? I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.’

  ‘I promise. Actually, Billy, there’s something –’

  His mobile starts ringing, drawing his attention away from me as he pulls it out of his pocket.

  ‘Ah, it’s Paul. Is it ok if I get this? He left me a message earlier on but I haven’t called him back yet.’

  ‘Of course!’

  Billy gives me a kiss before turning away and picking up his phone.

  ‘Paul, mate! So sorry – I’ve only just got up,’ he says, walking into the bedroom.

  That was my chance.

  I could have told him about Dad and what happened all those years ago. Explained the struggles that have turned me into the person I am today.

  Argh!

  Billy yelps with joy in the other room – Paul has obviously given him some good news.

  The moment has now passed.

  ‘You are not going to believe it!’ Billy says, running into the lounge where I’m curled up with a battered copy of Jane Eyre.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Honestly, I’ve never been so excited!’

  ‘Come on! Out with it!’

  ‘That was Paul …’

  ‘Yeeeees …’

  ‘Right, well, there are two bits of information actually,’ Billy says, ruffling his hair and making it stand up on end like a mad person. ‘OK, the first thing – I read this script a few months ago and loved it. It was this semi-biopic about a crazy rock star in the seventies – really gritty and miles away from anything I’ve done before.’ The words are gushing out of his mouth with such enthusiasm that I can’t help but beam at him as he continues. ‘I really wanted to be considered to play the rock star but the producers weren’t too sure about casting me in it because of Halo, they kept saying I was too clean for it or whatever – but Paul brought them in to see Dunked the other night and, well, it looks like they want me for it!’

  ‘That’s amazing!’

  ‘I know! One look at my backside and they were gripped!’ he laughs. ‘The best bit is it’s filming just outside of London, and so I’ll be able to push for us to stay here and have a car and driver every day instead. I think that will be nicer for us.’

  ‘That’s brilliant!’ I say. Pleased that he won’t be leaving home on this job either. ‘What’s it called?’

  ‘At the moment it’s called The Walking Beat, but that might change.’ He takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘But enough about that … the second thing is just a little bit more exciting.’

  ‘More exciting?’ I repeat.

  ‘Yes … I can’t believe I’m saying this,’ he says, a smile spreading across his lips.

  ‘Go on!’ I urge him as he pauses for dramatic effect.

  ‘I’ve been nominated for a BAFTA award!’

  ‘What?’ I squeal.

  ‘A bloody BAFTA! For Best Actor!’

  I jump on him, screaming with excitement.

  ‘That’s incredible!’ I gush.

  ‘I know … I never thought this day would come. I’ve always been told, “Once a teen star, always a teen star,” but this proves them wrong. I’ve been nominated for a bloody BAFTA … I can’t believe it!’

  ‘For Halo?’

  ‘God, no! You must be joking. It’s for this one I shot last year called Twisted Drops, all about a soldier in the First World War who gets captured by the French. Gosh, I can’t believe it!’

  I just sit, smiling at him, unsure what else to say.

  ‘And I’ve decided I want you with me on the red carpet,’ he says decisively. ‘By my side. I don’t want you shunted off somewhere in the corner waiting around for me. Like I said earlier, I want you with me. Next to me.’

  ‘What? ‘I say in shock. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Deadly.’

  Paul’s words on Billy’s opening night start replaying in my ears. He’ll hate this.

  ‘Have you mentioned this to Paul?’

  ‘Not yet,’ he says with a shrug.

  ‘I have a feeling he’s not going be too impressed with this idea … it’s going to be a big night for you and your career, Billy. It’s far bigger than your Press Night and we both know that he didn’t want me anywhere near you then!’

  ‘I don’t care. I want to share the night with you and I want to show the world how beautiful the love of my life is,’ he says, kissing me and pulling me close.

  ‘You really think it’s going to be that simple?’

  ‘Of course … I’ll talk to Paul.’

  Later that day, after lounging around on the sofa for most of the morning while Billy calls his family to tell them the good news, he plucks up the courage to phone Paul and tell him that he’d like me to join him on the red carpet. Well, I say ‘tell’ but the pleading, whining and endless discussion that I can hear from Billy in the bedroom suggests he’s having to work hard to get Paul to agree.

  He is on the phone for two hours.

  ‘All sorte
d,’ announces Billy, when he finally walks back into the room and joins me on the sofa.

  ‘Really?’ I ask hesitantly.

  Billy looks drained. I’ve never seen him so pale. His tone might be upbeat but the look on his face is one of deflation. I’ve no doubt that Paul has spent the whole conversation trying to get Billy to uninvite me.

  ‘Look, if it’s a problem I really don’t mind watching from home.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘No way!’ says Billy, scooping me up and sliding me onto his lap. ‘I want you with me, remember?’

  ‘And what did Paul say about that?’ I prompt.

  ‘He was fine with it,’ he says with a shrug as he starts to stroke his hand along my thigh.

  ‘Billy?’

  ‘Well, OK … once he knew I wasn’t going to back down he was,’ he says with a cheeky grin.

  ‘That sounds more believable.’

  ‘It’s all good, though, he gets it now. He’s even offered to help you find a dress.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  The thought of traipsing around shops with Paul does not fill me with delight. Yes, I know I said that I’d be willing to give him another chance in case I was wrong about him and his condescending ways – it was an important night – but does that chance really have to occur while I’m in a heightened state of paranoia dress shopping?

  ‘It’s a special night, so you need a special dress. Paul’s good with stuff like that.’

  ‘But I’ve already found a dress!’ I blurt.

  ‘You have?’

  ‘Yep. I saw a lovely dress in Warehouse a few days ago.’

  Actually, this is true, it was a lovely black ruched number with a swooping cowl neckline – simple but dressier than I would normally go for.

  ‘Baby,’ he says with a chuckle as he squeezes me closer to him. ‘That is exactly why I love you.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Thinking you can go to something like this wearing something from the high street.’

  ‘Why can’t I? It’s what I can afford,’ I say, honestly. ‘Plus I don’t really fancy going on a shopping trip with Paul.’

  Billy cracks up with laughter.

  I look at him in bemusement. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘I wondered why you looked so confused and put out about the whole thing.’

  ‘I don’t get it.’

  ‘Paul won’t actually be taking you out shopping, there’s not going to be a Pretty Woman moment where a snobby woman in some posh shop ridicules you for just walking in there.’

  ‘Well, that’s good,’ I say, getting even more confused.

  ‘All Paul is going to do is send an email out, or make a few calls, to a few fashion PRs and see whether they’d like to dress you for the event. They’ll then send him dresses in your size to try on and wear if you want to.’

  ‘But I don’t want that …’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I won’t be able to afford those clothes and I don’t want you to pay for something so extravagant.’

  ‘No, they don’t send them expecting you to pay for them.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Whatever you decide not to wear, you just send back. And usually what you do wear you get to keep – depending on the designer and whether they’re tight or not. The stingier ones will ask you to send it back unwashed in case you shrink it. At least, I think that’s how it works for girls.’

  ‘So, basically, I don’t have to go out to shop because all these dresses are going to come here for me to try on, and then whatever I do wear I don’t have to pay a penny for?’ I say, trying to get my head around this bizarre arrangement.

  ‘That’s right. The biggest question you’ll be asked on the night is, “Who are you wearing?” That’s why they do it. It’s good publicity for them – especially if you’re standing with someone who’s nominated for Best Male Actor,’ he says with a cocky grin.

  Once Billy has left for work I jump straight on the phone to Molly, to fill her in on the news.

  ‘Guess where I’m going!’ I blurt out as soon as she picks up.

  ‘Where? Tea with the Queen?’

  ‘Not quite,’ I laugh.

  ‘Off to Barbados with Simon Cowell?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘That’s a shame – he always looks like he’s having so much fun on those jet skis. Where then?’

  ‘The BAFTAs!’

  ‘Noooooooooo!’ she says in amazement. ‘With all them fancy people in those nice dresses?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘That’ll be lovely!’

  ‘Annnd …’ I tease.

  ‘Yeees?’

  ‘Billy’s up for the best actor award!’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Well, that’s blooming exciting, isn’t it, love! You must be over the moon!’

  ‘It’s all a bit bizarre!’

  ‘How are you going to have your hair?’

  ‘I haven’t thought about that, I don’t even know what I’m wearing yet, Mol.’

  ‘I think you should have it up in that plait style you did once – was it at Christmas? I thought that looked very pretty.’

  The hairstyle in question was to try and disguise a ghastly fringe I’d decided to give myself. It looked awful. A plait working its way along the top of my head was the only way I could get rid of it.

  ‘Actually, I think someone’s coming over to do all of that.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, this team of people are coming over apparently, to make me look like a star,’ I chuckle.

  ‘You already are a star, love. No amount of make-up or hairspray is going to make you more so. What about a dress? Oh, there are some great sales on at the moment. I saw a lovely purple number in Monsoon the other day …’

  ‘Actually, Mol,’ I say, interrupting her before she runs away with herself. ‘Paul’s sorting it all out.’

  ‘Paul? The manager who doesn’t like you?’

  ‘You said not to read too much into that!’

  ‘Did I?’

  I can sense that Molly is disappointed.

  ‘Don’t worry, he’s just asking a few designers to send me dresses to try.’

  ‘Why would they do that?’ she asks, equally as confused by the idea as I was.

  I fill her in on the dress-loaning thing, which seems even more of an alien concept now I’m saying it out loud. It lifts her mood.

  ‘So that’s how it’s all done!’ she says, impressed that she now has some insider knowledge into this bizarre world. ‘Ooh, if anything turns up in a size fourteen and you don’t have to send it back, send it my way!’

  ‘And what would you do with a designer frock?’ I ask, giggling.

  ‘I don’t know, I’ve never had one before … it can be my new uniform. Or maybe I’ll get buried in it.’

  ‘Molly!’ I shriek in shock. ‘Don’t be so morbid.’

  ‘Well,’ she sighs. ‘Oh, you’ll look stunning on that red carpet, duck. I can’t wait to see you on it. Is it shown live? Yes, I think it usually is! I’ll have to ask your mum over to watch it with me, or maybe I could do something in the shop. That’ll be nice.’

  ‘No, Mol, don’t go to all that trouble, they probably won’t even show me.’

  ‘Of course they will, you’ll be with Billy!’ she argues.

  I give up, knowing that once Molly has an idea in her head there’s no getting through to her.

  ‘I’ve got some other news that you’ll be pleased to hear,’ I say, changing the subject.

  ‘Yes, dear?’

  ‘I no longer work at Coffee Matters,’ I declare, feeling extremely relieved to be able to say it.

  ‘That’s brilliant!’ she chimes. ‘What made you decide to leave so suddenly? Yesterday you were on about sticking at it for a while longer.’

  ‘Actually, I had to quit before they sacked me,’ I admit truthfully.

  ‘What?’ Molly s
hrieks, enjoying the shocking news. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I may have chucked a drink over some rude man’s head.’

  The laughter that booms through the phone continues for the next five minutes, causing me to break into hysterics myself. Every time we try and speak again the laughter bubbles up and we land up in a fit of giggles once more. Eventually we both give up trying and decide to talk tomorrow instead.

  That night I agree to meet Billy at the theatre after the show so that the two of us can go for a celebratory dinner at J Sheekey – a place known for its posh fish and chips.

  I’m standing at the stage door waiting for him to come out when Paul arrives with what can only be described as a leggy blonde. Paul is dressed in another smart suit, this time in a dark green, and his companion is in skin-tight jeans, a baggy t-shirt, a fluffy jacket and boots. On me the outfit would look like I hadn’t bothered to make an effort – but on her it looks simply stunning. Her bouncy blonde waves and perfect red lips add to the glamour.

  Even though I’m sure Paul has spotted me he doesn’t say anything, so, rather than pretending I’ve not noticed him, I walk over, reminding myself that I’ve decided not to hold the last time we met against him.

  ‘Paul?’ I say.

  He looks up at me in confusion, as though he doesn’t recognize me.

  ‘I’m S–’

  ‘Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. We don’t usually see you here,’ he says in surprise.

  ‘No, I’m usually tucked up in bed by now,’ I agree with a smile. ‘We’re off for dinner to celebrate.’

  ‘How lovely.’

  I was wrong about him, I think, as I take in his warm and friendly smile.

  ‘Coco,’ he says, turning to the woman by his side. ‘This is Billy’s latest girlfriend, Suzy.’

  ‘Oh!’ I say, embarrassed that he’s called me by the wrong name. Should I correct him? Would that make us both feel stupid and uncomfortable? And what’s with his use of the word ‘latest’?

  ‘Suzy, it’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Coco says in an American accent as she holds out a long slim hand to shake before leaning in for a double-cheeked kiss. I’m quite taken aback by the gesture. She is spellbinding.

  Out of the corner of my eye I spot Billy walking out of the theatre with his arm draped around Ruth’s shoulders. Spotting me, he says his goodbyes and gives her a kiss on the cheek before coming over. She waves to me before walking off in the opposite direction.