‘Hello, Mum? Dad?’ Jules called out as she let herself into her parent’s semi-detached house on the outskirts of the city.
‘Juliet?’ her father replied, sticking his head out of the kitchen. ‘Is that you love? What the blooming heck are you doing here?’
‘Just thought I’d pop in,’ she replied as her father pulled her into a tight bear hug.
‘What a nice surprise and just in the nick of time. Your mother has been in one of her flaps this morning.’ Bernie dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘You know what she’s like,’ he grinned.
Jules couldn’t help but smile as her father continued their embrace. The comfortable familiarity of her childhood home relieving her remaining tension in an instant, just as she’d thought it would.
In that moment she could not remember why she’d stayed away so long. Her parents bordered on eccentric most of the time but she loved them dearly.
Despite outward appearances, her father, with his thinning grey hair, broad shoulders and round stomach, was a scatter brain. He might have been the sensible half of her parent’s marriage but Jules had lost count of the number of times she’d seen him get so engrossed in conversation at their shop that he’d given the wrong change to a customer. It was Nora’s meticulous management of the shop accounts that had kept their business in the centre of Bath ticking over for so many years.
‘Juliet,’ her mother screeched from the kitchen doorway. ‘Thank heavens. We’ve been worried sick about you.’
‘Hi mum,’ Jules smiled, swapping the large arms of her father for the petite frame of her mother.
‘You poor poor girl. How are you holding up?’
‘Me? I’m fine, why?’
‘The newspaper of course. I was utterly horrified when I saw it.’
‘Oh that.’ With the arrival of Guy and the events of the morning, her earlier humiliation had been pushed aside, returning in a split second as her cheeks flushed a bright red.
‘The phone has been ringing off the hook,’ Nora began, giving Jules one more squeeze before releasing her and walking back into the kitchen. ‘Pop the kettle on Bern.
‘We had to nip out and buy a copy first thing and just couldn’t believe what we were reading, could we Bern? Your father made me unplug the phone in the end. Everyone we know is calling.
‘Would you like a hot cross bun? Or I could heat up some soup? Leek and potato just like the time you had the chicken pox.’
‘Thanks mum, but I’m fine really. Just a cup of coffee would be great,’ Jules replied, taking a seat at the same table she’d sat at her entire life.
‘Nora, leave the girl alone for a minute will you, she’s only just walked through the door,’ Bernie said from the sink. ‘Now, how is everything with your new house?’
Her mother let out a cry. ‘How can you even ask such a question, when we haven’t even told her?’
‘Told me what?’ Jules looked between the faces of her parents.
‘Oh Juliet, it’s all my fault,’ Nora wailed as she slipped into the seat opposite Jules.
‘What is mum?’
‘This story. We feel like complete fools. Do you remember I told you about that girl who stopped by the shop last week?’
Jules nodded. She knew what was coming.
‘Well the minute I saw the name at the end of the article, I knew it was her. Bloody Sara - that was her name. I’m so sorry Juliet. She was paying me all these compliments about the shop and taking such an interest in you. Before I knew it, she was asking me all these strange questions about how often we saw you. Of course, it was only this morning that I realised that she’d been putting words in my mouth.’
Jules reached out and squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘Don’t worry mum. They would have printed the story either way. I’m just sorry they’ve got you involved too,’ she replied. Seeing her parents concern for her seemed to have relieved some of the unease she felt towards The Daily’s allegations.
Bernie placed three mugs and a chunk of fruit cake in front of them. ‘Here you are love.
‘So you don’t blame us then?’ Nora asked, her voice timid as she patted Jules’ hand.
‘Don’t be daft. Of course I don’t. The only person to blame in all of this is Guy.’
Nora shook her head and opened her mouth to speak before Jules cut in: ‘I’m sorry mum, I know you both like him and you were upset when we broke-up, but he was the one who got The Daily interested in me, and it was all to boost the sales of his album.’
‘Juliet,’ Bernie began. ‘Your mother and I were only upset when you and Guy broke-up because we hated seeing you so unhappy. Yes we liked Guy, but only because of how happy he made you. You’re our daughter; you’re the one that matters to us. If you tell us to hate him, we will hate him.’
‘But mum just shook her head when I said it was Guy’s fault?’ Jules quizzed.
‘Yes, because maybe you’re right and this whole nonsense with the paper has been down to Guy trying to help himself, and if that’s the case then he’s off our Christmas card list. But these bloody journalists are like vampires. One minute you’re having a perfectly friendly chat with them about the weather or what not, and the next minute you find yourself admitting things about yourself you didn’t even know were true.
‘They suck it out of you is all I’m saying. If Guy said it was an accident, then I can see how it happened. And what with us liking Guy, well I’m with your father on that one.’
‘Oh,’ Jules replied. She took a long sip of coffee as her mind made sense of what her parents had told her. ‘I thought I’d let you down.’
‘When?’ her parents exclaimed together.
‘When Guy left. I thought you were disappointed in me for not being able to make it work.’
‘I’ve never heard such rubbish in all my life,’ her father exclaimed. ‘We could never be disappointed with anything you do. You and Guy were so young. Just because your mother and I met when we were kids, it didn’t mean we expected you to do the same. If anything, we were pleased that Guy leaving meant that you could find your own feet a bit more. And look how much you’ve achieved. We are so proud of you,’ her father finished, his voice deep with emotion.
‘Thanks Dad.’ Jules felt the lump in her throat again. She’d been so wrong for so long about her parent’s feelings, and now all she wanted to do was make up for all the times she’d pretended to be too busy to see them.
‘Would you come and see my house?’ she asked suddenly.
Her parents exchanged smiles. ‘We’d love to,’ they replied.
‘How does Saturday sound? I haven’t actually got a staircase or a back door at the moment, but it would still be nice to see what you think.’
Nora rose from the table and stepped to Jules’ chair, bending down to give her a hug before replying. ‘Saturday it is. Now, how about some soup?’
‘Would you mind if I just grabbed a quick shower first? I kind of left in a bit of a hurry.’
‘I did wonder about the mud on your face,’ Bernie smiled. ‘Off you go then. Gives me a chance to nip out and get some fresh bread.’
‘Thanks Dad, and thanks mum. It’s nice to be home.’
By the afternoon, Jules felt like a balance had been restored inside her.
She’d hidden herself away from her parents and from anyone else that had tried to get close to her for so long that she’d forgotten how nice it is to be with people that love her and to love them back. In shutting herself away from her feelings for Guy, she’d somehow cut off her ability to become close to anyone else.
Remaining five miles under the speed limit, Jules drove back to Cottinghale, still determined to get Guy out of her life once and for all, but there was someone else she wanted to see too.
Rich had been so sweet when he’d pulled her from the cellar. He hadn’t acted surprised to see Guy, or asked her what they’d been doing. All he’d wanted to do was check she was okay.
With everything that had happened to her over the pas
t few weeks, she felt like a different person. If it was time to move on and start a new relationship, a proper one this time, then Rich was the perfect person to try it with, she decided, putting the sudden bout of nausea down to nerves.
Twenty-six
What was she doing? Jules had no answer to her own question as she crouched low to the ground, leaning against the cold stone wall. The light from the pub above her cast an orangey glow out into the night.
Guy and his bloody note, Jules thought; wishing she hadn’t left the guesthouse in the first place, but unable to move from her position under the side window.
It had been written on a small piece of lined paper ripped from a notebook; the same kind he used to keep in his pocket wherever he went.
Jules,
Please come see me play.
Love
Guy
Love Guy. The words seemed stuck on repeat in her thoughts. How dare he? Even when they were apart he still seemed able to inflict an electrical pull on her.
When Jules had returned from Bath a little before seven, she had planned to stay in her room, wait for him to return from playing for Rich and Sally, and tell him once and for all to leave her alone. But she had not anticipated the note, and the effect that the words, written in the all too familiar handwriting, would have on her.
Not this time. Never again, she’d reminded herself, storming towards the pub with every intention of interrupting Guy’s performance and telling him to sod off in front of anyone who had bothered to come and watch. It was about time he endured a smidgen of the humiliation she had suffered in the past few weeks.
Yet, even before Jules had stepped onto the gravel driveway of The Nag, she could see that the turnout had been better than she’d anticipated. Darting to the side window before she could be seen, Jules had peered into the orangey glow, only to be faced with a mass of bodies, filling every available space, all facing towards her.
She’d dropped to a crouch.
Guy sat less than a metre away, his back towards her as he faced into the pub.
But before she could make her escape, the murmur of the crowd ceased and Guy’s voice echoed out into the night. Suddenly Jules found herself rooted to the spot, desperate to run away but unable to make her body move, as every part of her absorbed his words.
‘This is one I’ve been tinkering with for only a few hours, so you’ll have to bear with me. It’s for someone very special that I think a few of you may know.’
He began to play a gentle melodic tune on his guitar and started to sing.
So many love songs wish true love goodbye,
But I wanted to let you know my love, that’s not you and I
I’ve been away for such a long time, but I still love you so,
In fact, with the dawning of every new day, my love seems to grow
And grow...
‘Jules?’ a voice whispered from the darkness.
She jumped back, the spell of Guy’s voice broken.
‘Rich, hi,’ she stammered, scooting away from the window. ‘You scared me half to death.’
‘Did I really?’ Rich smirked. ‘Sorry about that. Next time I see someone lurking in the shadows of my pub, I’ll be sure to make a bit more noise shall I? Now what on earth are you doing out here?’
‘Oh. Nothing really. I was just leaving.’
‘Right.’ Rich nodded, the expression on his face showing his disbelief.
‘Big crowd,’ she began, wrapping her Barbour closer to her body.
‘Yeah. I’ve had to drag Stan behind the bar to help me.’
‘Who are they all?’
‘Everyone in Sally’s address book I think.’ He smirked. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come in?
‘I’m sure, thanks.
Neither spoke for a moment as an awkward silence fell between them. The husky tones of Guy’s voice filled her head causing an overwhelming despair to take hold.
‘Actually I’m glad I bumped into you,’ Jules began as she tried to muster her earlier resolve.
‘Oh?’
‘I just wanted to say thanks again for your help today, and to explain really.’
She sucked in a lung full of cold fresh air. ‘It’s just; I don’t think you’ve seen me at my best. Ever since I moved here it’s been one thing after another, but I really think that things will be getting better from here on out and well...what I was hoping was...if your offer of dinner might still be available?’
Despite the outside temperature Jules felt hot and uncomfortable.
Rich ran a hand through his hair and smiled. ‘Of course it is. You can come for dinner anytime. I know Max would love to see you. But Jules listen for a minute, okay? I like you. You are beautiful and funny and strong. But I think we should stay friends, rather than...well you know.’
‘What?’ she exclaimed. ‘But you were the one who tried to kiss me.’
‘Yes I know, but that was before I saw you with Guy. It just seems clear to me, and to the entire country for that matter, that you and Guy are meant to be together, and I don’t want to be the one to get in the way of that.’
‘You’re breaking up with me?’ Jules asked in disbelief, too shocked by Rich’s sudden change of heart to care how stupid she sounded.
To her surprise he laughed.
‘How on earth could I break up with you? In what version of reality have we been dating? Not unless you count passing out drunk on my bed, fainting in my pub and me pulling you out of an abandoned cellar, a relationship?’
‘I see what you mean,’ Jules gave a weak smile. ‘But it’s not too late. You’re wrong about Guy. You couldn’t be further from the truth in fact. I’m telling him to leave the minute he finishes playing.’
‘Well you’re an idiot then. It’s none of my business, and tell me to shut up if you want to, but you’re a different person around him. More relaxed or something, I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. But whatever it is, you’d be crazy to throw it away.
‘I can see he must have really hurt you, but everyone makes mistakes, and you can’t say he hasn’t been trying to make up for it. Every song is about how sorry he is. If you just stopped running from it for five minutes, you might find...I don’t know.’
Jules shook her head. She couldn’t speak. She had no idea how to respond. Rich was wrong. Guy was wrong. Everyone had it wrong, didn’t they?
‘And anyway, Max is crazy about you and the last thing I need is him sulking all day because I spend more time with you than he does,’ Rich added with another smile.
He touched Jules’ arm. ‘You okay?’
Jules nodded, still unable to speak. Nothing seemed to be going to plan.
‘Come get a drink. I’ve got another cocktail I’ve been working on. I’m going to call it The Juliet.’
Jules exhaled in an attempt to laugh and stepped back. ‘Thanks Rich, but I think I’m going to pass. I’ll see you soon.’
‘Are you sure? Do you want me to walk you back?’
She shook her head. Turning away from him, she walked back to the road.
Nothing made sense anymore.
Twenty-seven
Jules paced the room as she waited for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. She tightened her grip on the worn copy of Hikers Monthly that she’d borrowed from Mrs Beckwith’s living room. She would be ready for him this time.
A sudden explosion of energy travelled through her veins as she heard movements from outside the door. Throwing herself onto the hard mattress of the bed, Jules opened the magazine, her eyes unable to focus on the pages as she waited.
Nothing happened.
She held her breath, straining to hear over the vigorous thumbing of her heart. The only noise was the creaking of hinges from Guy’s door opening and then closing again.
Damn that man, she cursed to herself, leaping from the bed and deciding instead to confront him. Rich had been wrong about Guy. She wanted him gone. She wanted her life back.
Throwing open her door
, Jules flew across the narrow hallway separating their rooms.
‘If you’re here on some stupid quest to relieve yourself of some old guilt, then you can SOD-,’ she half shouted as she stormed into Guy’s bedroom, her sentence and her body grinding to a halt at the sight of his bare torso and half-open jeans.
Guy said nothing as he put down the can of deodorant he’d been holding, and then he smirked. ‘I was just coming to see you.’
‘Guy, we are not living in the past anymore. I’ve changed, you’ve changed. You can’t possibly expect us still to…’ Jules stopped again as her thoughts trailed off.
‘What if I do?’
The smirk disappeared as his eyes bore into hers.
‘Well I don’t, so for the hundredth time please leave me alone.’
She twisted her bare feet against the prickles of the carpet and crossed back into the safety of her bedroom.
She seemed unable to catch her breath as if she’d just completed a hundred metre sprint.
No matter how hard she tried to cling on to it, the anger she’d built towards him always disappeared the minute his eyes met hers.
‘I can’t,’ he replied as he stepped up behind her.
She screwed her eyes shut as she felt the warmth of his body against her back.
‘Please go,’ she whispered.
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘I told you. I love you,’ he replied.
‘But you don’t know me anymore. I’m not the stupid girl I was.’
She took a step away from him, not trusting herself to turn around.
‘I know that. But I’m not either - a stupid boy I mean. And I know that I love your confidence and how stubborn you are. I especially love your temper, the way your face tightens and your eyes glow. And I love the fact that underneath it all, no matter how hard you try to hide it, you are still the kind sweet girl that I fell in love with whilst sitting in a lecture about buttons.’
Like a million shards of glass falling from the sky, his words cut into her.
The Reluctant Celebrity Page 16
