“I’ll be back soon.” It was so strange for me to be the one leaving. Now he knows how I felt. “Besides, you’ll be working and too busy to think about me.”
“Not likely.” He was still sullen.
“Well, let’s not ruin what has been the best week of my life.”
“And mine. I’m sorry.” He put on a good show and smiled as we drove toward the airport, but I knew that he was as sad as I was.
Will walked me into the ticketing area where I met up with Pam. Will kissed Pam on the cheek in greeting and stood with us as we checked in for the flight. He then walked us to the security check-in line.
I looked into Will’s sad eyes with my own as I was about to go. He smiled and kissed me long and hard.
When Will pulled away, he said, “Please have fun. For me. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
“I promise. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I entered the security checkpoint line and turned around briefly to find him watching me. I tried to smile and waved. I didn’t turn around again for fear I would tear up.
Pam rolled her eyes at the drama. “You’re not going to be pining away for him the whole time we’re gone, are you?”
“No. I promise.” I meant to keep that promise. I was not going to ruin this trip of a lifetime for either Pam or me. Even if I stayed in London, Will would be too busy filming to have much, if any, time for me so it’s just as well that I go.
Chapter Thirty-One
By the time we arrived in central Dublin and checked into our bed and breakfast, it was almost five o’clock. Our B&B was a little worn around the edges and our room was small and sparsely furnished. We knew that this was likely to be the case since we had chosen a central location near O’Connell Street over some of the nicer looking B&Bs farther out from the city center. We didn’t plan on being in the room much anyway.
I called Will to let him know we had arrived. Will and I planned to keep in touch via daily phone calls and I agreed to send him a camera phone picture here and there.
Upon getting off the phone with Will, Pam and I went in search of dinner and then for a pub crawl around the City Center. Over the course of the evening, we managed to hit a number of pubs. We didn’t get quite the same reception as we had in Europe during our trip after college. Although we hadn’t seen too many redheads, we must not have been so unusual in Ireland to call attention to ourselves. We’d have a single drink and move on to the next pub.
We ended up spending the majority of time in what became our last pub of the evening because of a tall, dark and good-looking Irishman named Neil who had been paying Pam a lot of attention. I kept a smile on my face while Pam and Neil flirted, but was replaying my last few days with Will in my head instead of listening to them. I doubt they noticed. At closing time, we said our goodbyes and Neil promised to return the next night to meet us which made Pam happy.
We spent our time in Dublin visiting the sites by day and the pubs by night. We hit Trinity College and saw the Book of Kells there, Dublin Castle and St. Patrick’s Cathedral and shopped for Celtic jewelry to take home as gifts over the course of the three nights and two days we spent in Dublin.
On Saturday, the second full-day we were there, as we walked down O’Connell Street, I noticed the papers sitting at the entrance of one of the shops and was horrified to see Will and me on the front of one of the tabloids. I asked Pam to buy the paper for me so that I could look at it.
The paper made it abundantly clear that my attempts to look at the ground were useless as were our attempts to evade the press. The picture on the front was of the two of us dressed to go to my birthday lunch. The photo spread on the inside of the tabloid paper contained numerous photos of Will and me, some of which were taken when we didn’t know anyone was watching. Under the caption, “Will MacKenzie and American Girlfriend Spend Romantic Week in London,” there were pictures of us in front of the London Eye, kissing on Westminster Bridge, walking hand-in-hand in Westminster, standing together on the back of our privately chartered boat on the Thames at the pier, and kissing goodbye at the airport as I left for Ireland. Many of these pictures were taken at what likely was quite a distance, but it was clear that it was us. My eyes widened in horror.
I took a camera phone picture of the paper and sent it to Will. He called me back immediately.
“Shannon, I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I just thought you’d want to know.”
“I already know. Our pictures are all over the papers here as well.”
“Are you still being harassed?”
“Yes. It’s okay. I long ago accepted that this was the price I have to pay. But you, you didn’t ask for this.”
“I’d go through worse to be with you.”
“You may have to.”
“Don’t be like that. It’ll be fine. I can’t imagine it won’t blow over soon and my fifteen minutes will be up. So where are you now?” I tried to change the subject.
“The set. I don’t start shooting until Monday, but others are and I thought I would check it out.”
“Well, I won’t bother you then.”
“You never bother me. I love you. I want you to go have fun, but be careful.”
“Okay. I love you.”
That night, Pam and I visited yet another pub. I was nervous since my face had now been plastered all over the newsstands in Ireland. Pam calmed me down because she was intent on meeting her friend, Neil, again that night. We entered the crowded pub and were immediately were surrounded by Neil and three of his friends. Neil’s intentions seemed to be two-fold: first, to show off Pam and, second, to hook one of his friends up with me. The second scenario was not going to happen.
One of the guys, Sean, was a black-haired, but fair-skinned, twenty-something on the shorter side of normal. Upon introduction, he said to me, with his Dublin sing-song lilt, “You look familiar. You been here before?”
“No, it’s my first time.” I knew where he was going with this and hoped that he wouldn’t make the connection. I turned back to Pam to try to avoid Sean.
In my peripheral vision, I noticed Sean walk over to the massive oak bar and ask the bartender for something. I froze when I saw what it was: the tabloid newspaper I had bought earlier in the day.
Sean broke back into the group, held up the paper, and said loudly, “So you’re that actor Will MacKenzie’s girlfriend, are you? Looks like we’re in the presence of a celebrity.”
I blushed heavily when the group and others nearby gaped at me. I said quietly, “I’m not.”
“You’re not what?” Sean replied with a taunting tone. “Will MacKenzie’s girlfriend or a celebrity?”
Pam interrupted, “Neil, can you tell your friend to leave my friend alone? If she leaves, I’m going to have to leave too.”
Neil responded quickly telling Sean where to go and using an expletive in the process.
“Oh come on? I’m just taking the piss. I didn’t mean anything by it. You wouldn’t leave would you?” His tone was obnoxious.
“Yes, I would,” I said and meant it.
“All right. I promise to let it go.” Sean’s voice was dripping with false sincerity.
For the most part, Sean complied. Whenever he would ask a question about my relationship with Will, Neil would hit him alongside the head. Neil’s other two friends, whose fair hair and freckled appearance contrasted sharply with that of Neil and Sean, were much more polite than Sean and, thankfully, didn’t say too much. I couldn’t say that I was having a good time, but Pam was. I wouldn’t leave unless it got really bad. I managed to tolerate Sean until closing time, but it was touch and go for a while.
I took pictures of Neil and Pam with their camera phones on our way out of the pub. They kissed goodbye and we returned to our B&B to get some rest before our morning train.
As we walked back to our B&B, Pam acknowledged what I had done. “Thank you. I know tonight was unpleasant f
or you and I appreciate that you stayed.”
“That’s what friends do. Anyway, hopefully, the story won’t be as big in Europe or at least will have died down.”
I planned on keeping from Will what had happened that night to avoid upsetting him.
Pam and I caught an early train on Sunday morning from Dublin to Rosslare on the southern coast to meet the overnight ferry to Cherbourg, France. After the ferry crossing, we arrived in Cherbourg and made our way to the train station for the three-hour train ride into Paris. We didn’t arrive at our destination until late afternoon.
In Paris, we stayed with a girl our age who had lived for a while in the U.S. on an exchange program with the family of one of Pam’s friends. Isabel now worked as an English translator for a large multi-national French company. Isabel lived in the tiniest non-studio apartment I had ever seen. It had a great location though, not far from the Eiffel Tower. Pam and I planned to spend two nights in Paris, sleeping on the floor of the tiny living room before moving on to the South of France.
Pam had mentioned to Isabel that I was dating Will MacKenzie. Since my secret was out, over dinner at a local café that first night, I felt like I could ask about whether I was in store for the same reception I had received in Ireland.
Isabel replied in perfect English, but with a beautiful French accent, “Our main source for that kind of news is a weekly magazine. I didn’t see anything with you in it this week. You may be gone before your pictures are published here. I think you are probably safe for now.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Since I had broached the topic of Will, Isabel asked what he was like. Before I could answer Isabel’s question, my cell phone rang. It was Will.
“How’s Paris?”
“Beautiful. We’re out with Isabel, Pam’s friend we’re staying with, having dinner. We’re not far from the Eiffel Tower.”
“Any more problems with the press?”
“Isabel tells me I’m safe for now.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
“I think she’s a fan of yours.” Isabel looked at me, mortified.
“Would it make you happy if I said ‘hello’ to her?”
“Actually, that would be nice of you. Here goes.”
I handed the phone to Isabel. “He wants to say hello.”
With wide eyes, she took the phone, “Hello . . . yes . . . my pleasure . . . of course, anytime . . . thank you . . . here she is.” She smiled and handed the phone to Pam to my chagrin.
While Pam spoke to Will, I asked Isabel, “What did he say to you?”
“He thanked me for my hospitality in having you and Pam stay with me, and said that, next time you and he are in Paris, he would like to meet me in person to thank me. Then he asked to speak with Pam. He is very nice, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I think so. Don’t ask me how I got so lucky.”
Pam then handed the phone back to me.
“Will?”
“I’m here.”
“What did you say to Pam?”
“I was just checking to make sure you weren’t understating things there. She told me you were hassled in Dublin.”
I glared at Pam. She looked guilty in response.
“It was no big deal, just a drunk in a pub. I survived the experience,” I said nonchalantly.
“I worry about you and I don’t want you to not tell me things because you worry about me.”
“I don’t. I just didn’t think it was important enough to mention.”
“Just be careful and tell me these things. If you need me, I’m only a short plane ride away.”
“I’ll be fine. You concentrate on your movie and don’t worry about me. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
“I love you more than anything.”
During dinner, I gave Pam a hard time about providing Will with unnecessary information that would only serve to upset him. There was always the worry at the back of my mind that, if the publicity surrounding us got too out of hand, Will would decide that I was too much trouble.
Our few days in Paris passed without issue. Pam and I spent the next day at Versailles and the evening with Isabel at a Left Bank café. The following day, we spent time at the Louvre and the Musée D’Orsay. Although I had been to the Louvre on my previous trips to Paris, I couldn’t get enough of it. And I had always wanted to see the vast collections of Impressionists and Post-Impressionists at the Musée d’Orsay. They were amazing. Pam did not have my penchant for art and much preferred Versailles and its sprawling grounds.
We tried to do a little shopping here and there too, but Paris was very expensive. I did manage to buy some silly risqué lingerie to wear for Will if I could summon the courage. Pam laughed hysterically as she couldn’t imagine someone like me wearing something like that.
That night, we thanked and said our goodbyes to Isabel and took the overnight train to Nice, arriving very early on Thursday morning. Although we shared a couchette with some other travelers, it was much more comfortable than the floor in Paris. For that, I was grateful.
As it was early morning when we arrived in Nice, we left our luggage in lockers and grabbed some breakfast in the terminal to wait for everything to open for the day. We would return later to retrieve our bags and check into the pension that would be our home for the next two nights.
We enjoyed our time in Nice and continued to have no repetition of what had happened in Ireland. The first day, we rented mopeds and rode along the coast as far as Cannes. We spent time in the ocean at the various beaches along the way although it was bizarre to us that there was no sand. It was really uncomfortable treading on the hot stones sometimes. I managed to get pretty sunburned as I had forgotten to put sunscreen on my thighs. With short-shorts on and my legs sitting high on the moped, the sun hit them pretty hard. I was going to hurt for a few days.
The second day, we took a trip down to Monte Carlo to find that we were too poor and not dressed well enough to gamble. We visited the palace instead.
On Saturday, our third and final day, before leaving on the evening train to Milan, we slept in and had a lazy day wandering around Nice capped by an early dinner in a café up in town.
My phone beeped with a text from Will.
“Hope u have fun in Italy. Wish I could b w/u. ILY.”
I asked Pam to take a picture of me seated at the café from far enough away that you could see my surroundings. Although I didn’t consider myself very photogenic, the picture didn’t turn out too badly so I sent it in response with a note, “Wish u were here. Miss u & ILY2.”
I received a prompt response, “I’m jealous. Have fun.” I read the text to Pam.
“Are you having fun?” Pam asked as I appeared wrapped up in my text messaging with Will.
“Absolutely. I’m not pining too much, am I?” I hoped the answer was “No” since I had taken great pains not to appear to be pining as much as I really was.
“No. Not really.”
“Good because I’ve been looking forward to this trip forever and I really want to live it up.” I was psyching myself up.
“Then let’s do it.”
We left to meet the train which was going to get us into Milan late that night. We were planning on staying in Milan two nights, but only one day as we were taking an early train on Monday to Venice.
During our brief stay in Milan, we visited Il Duomo, the most magnificent church I had ever seen, and the Santa Maria della Grazie church to see “The Last Supper.” We received a few stares during our visit, but it could have been that, as two redheads together, we stood out in Italy. I chose to believe that was the case as opposed to my newfound tabloid fame. After a day of sightseeing, we enjoyed a leisurely dinner at a café before getting some sleep for our early train the next morning.
Pam and I arrived in Venice mid-morning on Monday. We were planning on spending one night there and leaving the following night on an overnight train for Munich. Although I had visited Venice on a previous trip to Italy, Pam had not so she real
ly wanted to take a gondola ride while we were there. I tried to maintain a smile on my face, but found it difficult because it was a very romantic thing to do and it reminded me of two other recent boat trips with Will in Cambridge and London. Thankfully, Pam was not facing me during the ride and could not see my struggles.
I took a camera photo of the Bridge of Sighs with a view of another gondola ahead of us and sent it to Will with a note, “Wish u were here. Tho it would b hard 2 do what we did on the Thames ;-) ILY.”
I was hoping that I would receive a return message soon, but no such luck. Will must have been in the middle of filming. It wasn’t until we were on our way to the Piazza San Marco after lunch that I received a reply.
“U expect me 2 b able 2 concentrate on wk now after ur txt? I have 2 images in my head now, 1st of us on the Thames & 2nd of u & me attempting it on a gondola. Seems like u’ve been gone forever. Miss u. ILY.”
I responded, “Sorry. I had & still have same images. I’m enjoying them. Miss u & ILY.”
“Enjoying them 2. ILY.”
The next day, Pam and I enjoyed a lazy day shopping for Murano glass gifts on the Rialto Bridge, including one for Will, and wandering around the streets of Venice before catching the overnight night train to Munich.
We had two days and one night in Munich, staying at a pension near the Deutsches Museum. Our trip to Munich meant a lot of beer: beer for lunch and dinner as well as throughout the day and night. Shopping meant beer steins as gifts. We watched the Glockenspiel in Marienplatz and its intricate works as the clock struck at the hour, visited the Deutsche Museum and, of course, spent time in as many beer halls as we could find.
The two redheads together thing was working and Pam was happy that we managed to find relatively good-looking male company. As far as I was concerned, they all paled in comparison to Will and I could not have been less interested. As had been the case before, my disinterest seemed to make me that much more appealing.
While we were eating lunch the second day we were in Munich, Will called.
“How much do you miss me?” Will asked with excitement in his voice.
Away From the Spotlight Page 22
