Scripted Love (The Scripted Series Book 2)

by Karen Frances

  “It’s been a few years since a nice young thing sat next to me. It’s a bit dirty down here,” Mack says.

  “I don’t mind.” I sit down beside them. Tom snaps a few pictures. “Tom, I don’t mind pictures of me, but I want the privacy of Mack and the boy kept exactly that. Private.”

  “Understood,” Tom says, and Michelle smiles.

  “Mack, can I ask you a few questions?”

  “Of course. I’m an open book.”

  “How old are you? And how did you end up here?”

  “I’m forty-nine, and this was the last place I expected to find myself. I had a great life, a good job, a nice house, a wife and a daughter. But my daughter was killed in a car crash. I was driving when the other car hit us. I survived and she didn’t.” He takes a deep breath to steady his wavering voice. “Things went from bad to worse. I started drinking, couldn’t stop, or rather, didn’t want to. It hid my grief. While I was drinking myself into oblivion, my wife was submerged in grief and I couldn’t see it. We should’ve been helping each other. Instead, I couldn’t even help myself. In the end, I lost my world.”

  “Mack, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you. I’ve accepted my fate. But . . .” He turns and looks at the boy who is now drinking and eating. I never even noticed the food was here. “He shouldn’t be out here.”

  “I agree.”

  “Ella, we have others to see,” Michelle says.

  “Yes, I know. Mack, it was nice to see you.” My eyes turn to the boy. “And . . .”

  “My name is Jack.”

  “Jack. That’s a nice name.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Miss Ella, I can see the worry in your eyes. I promise I’ll look after Jack until he decides he can trust again.”

  “Thank you.” I lean forward and give him a kiss.

  “And where was your camera when a hot young thing was giving me a kiss?” Mack says to Tom, laughing.

  “Maybe next time.”

  “Oh, I hope so. Miss Ella can come and see me anytime.”

  We leave Mack and Jack and walk further along the street. Tom tells me that’s the first time Jack has told anyone his name. He tells me that Jack must feel a connection to me. I might even be someone who he could trust.

  Crazy, but I already know that my thoughts for the rest of the night and the next few days and weeks are going to be of a boy lost without family and friends, living on the streets.

  This is wrong. So wrong. Where did our system fail him and why?

  “YOU DID GREAT TONIGHT,” MICHELLE says as we stand at the doors to the shelter. I’m glad she thinks so. I got off to a wobbly start after meeting Jack. I hoped I wouldn’t cry tonight. I told myself I would hold it together no matter what I saw, but seeing Jack . . . that was all it took. My eyes drift to the road. Connor is in the taxi that’s waiting for me.

  “Thanks, but . . .”

  “I know you’re worried about Jack. I am too. He’s been with Mack for the last week. I’m keeping an eye on him, but at the same time, trying to gain his trust. As I said at the start of the night, trust is a big issue for anyone living on the streets, regardless of their age.”

  “He’s so young. What about social services?”

  “Yes, I should contact them, but the thing about kids like Jack is that, if I do report him and they put him in temporary care, he’ll run away again. He would then move on to a new area and we wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him, and the cycle would continue. He would run every time social services got involved.”

  “There must be something that can be done. My heart is breaking at the thought of him sleeping in that doorway.”

  “Ella, go home. There’s nothing more you can do. He could do worse than Mack. He’s a good man. I’ll catch up with you during the week.”

  “I’ll go home, but you’ll see me tomorrow night. Same time and place?”

  She smiles and nods her head as if knowing what I was going to say. I walk slowly to the waiting taxi and get inside, the weight of the world on my mind.

  “Hey, you,” Connor says as I slide into the seat beside him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. How did it go with your parents? Is your mum okay? And how are you?” I ask, changing the subject because I’m not sure now is the right time to answer his question. I need to hear how he is.

  “I know what you’re doing, but I’ll let you get away with it for the time being. It went okay with them. Better than I expected. It was easier to talk about than I had imagined. Yes, there were lots of tears. I’m relieved that it’s out in the open, although my mum is blaming herself.”

  “It’s not her fault.”

  “I know that and you know that, but she says she shouldn’t have let me leave. Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  Now who’s the one changing the subject?

  “Do you mind if I wait until we’re home?”

  “No, of course not.” He wraps his arm around me and I snuggle in. I know my thoughts should be about Connor and us and everything he’s been through, but I can’t stop thinking about Jack. The same thoughts and questions are whizzing around my head like a racing car on a race track.

  What’s driven that young boy to flee from his home and live on the streets? Seeing him has put my life into perspective. Yes, there’s been a few crap things happening lately, but it pales into insignificance. If my helping out with the charity and raising awareness helps children like him then it will all be worthwhile.

  “Okay, we need to talk,” Connor says as we walk up the stairs. “You need to tell me about tonight. Or maybe it’s me?”

  “It’s not you, honestly. But I do have loads of questions.”

  “And when you ask, I promise to answer you truthfully.”

  We enter the bedroom and I strip down to my underwear. Connor takes a t-shirt from the drawer and hands it to me. I put it on and inhale, smelling him.

  I cast my eyes around the room. He’s already been here tonight. His case is unpacked. I smile.

  He pulls the bed covers down and I climb in and watch him undress, leaving his boxers on. His eyes are a little red and puffy. It’s been an emotional day with his parents. God, it’s been a hugely emotional day for me and I’m still struggling to adjust to all the facts about Connor, and now also, Jack.

  Connor climbs into bed beside me and I snuggle into the warmth of his body, needing the closeness. The closeness I’ve missed this week when he wasn’t in bed with me. “I’ve missed this,” he says.

  “Me too. Tonight was eye-opening. I thought I would be ready for whatever I saw. God, I was so wrong. I’m so disappointed in our society. The system is failing miserably and even children are falling through it and living on the streets. It’s not right.” There’s a long pause and tears roll down my face.

  “Ella, you can and will make a difference. I’m certain of it. When are you next going back out?”

  “Tomorrow. I need to see if he’s okay.”

  “If who is okay?”

  “Tonight I met a man called Mack. He’s forty-nine and lost everything after turning to drink when his daughter died. He’s been on the streets for a few years, but there was a young boy with him. I’d say about twelve or thirteen.”

  “Shit! Really?”

  “Yes, his name is Jack and I can’t stop thinking about him sleeping in a shop doorway. It’s not right. He’s only a boy. He should be at home and safe. Mack is looking out for him. Some of the things Mack said truly touched me. He’s a man who cares deeply, especially about Jack.”

  “Oh, Ella. I’m not surprised you were quiet coming home. It’s been a tough day for you.” His arms tighten around me, and I hear a sigh of what I hope is contentment as I snuggle into him. I can only hope that he’s taking comfort having me in his arms. I’ve longed to be in his arms like this.

  “You’ve had a tough day. You’ve had a tough week,” I say, my thoughts filled with Connor alone in that hotel room all week. Hiding
from me and his parents, trying to protect us. I wish someone was there to protect Connor all those years ago, and then he wouldn’t have gone through that abuse.

  “Ella, I’m sorry I’ve caused you unnecessary pain. You have to understand I thought what I was doing was the best for you and my family. I never wanted that footage and story to get out. It’s from a part of my life I’d much rather forget.”

  “Connor, you don’t have to apologise. I get why you thought leaving me was the right thing to do to protect everyone you love. But don’t you see that those who love you will always be there for you? We all want to help you and support you. I’m angry that you had to go through the unthinkable. I wish someone had been there for you to step in and help you. To protect you.”

  I turn in his arms, so that I can see him. A lonely tear runs down his face. I lift my hand and wipe it away. “You are incredibly brave. I’ll be here for you any time you want to talk.”

  “I know this is news to you and my parents but I’m hoping you can all put it behind you like I have. I’ve fought hard with my demons over the years. Some things, as you know, are better staying in the past.”

  And it’s someone in my past that has caused Connor so much pain. What did Donovan hope to gain from putting this story and the footage into the world? I’m sure it was just another attempt to drive a wedge between us.

  “I’m not sure the media will see it that way. Your story is already in their hands, minus the facts. You and I both know they have a way of twisting a story to suit themselves, unless . . .”

  “They are presented with the facts.” He frowns knowing as well as I do what the media is like. I nod. “I know what I should do, but I don’t want to hurt you or my mum.”

  “I’m sure your mum has told you the same as I’m going to tell you. I will stand by you no matter what you decide.”

  “Me and you, will we be okay? Regardless of what I decide?” he asks.

  There’s no hesitation on my part. “Yes. We will be okay.”

  “Glad to hear it. Now, I’m hoping having you back in my arms means I’ll get a decent sleep.”

  I yawn and wipe away the last of my own tears. “Me too.” He pulls me closer to him and I close my eyes.

  Fear pulls me from my sleep. I awaken to an empty bed. Not what I had hoped for after our first night together. My breath comes in a deep rush as I try to think what’s troubling me. I can’t forget this nightmare; it’s not my usual. This time it’s about a little boy, lost and searching for someone to love him. The face kept changing in my dream. One minute it was Jack staring at me, the next it was Connor.

  I’m alone, and something about my nightmare is scaring me. I reach across to Connor’s side and it’s cold. He’s been out of the bed for a while. I roll over, pushing the covers off, and throw my legs off the bed.

  I had a great sleep when I was wrapped in Connor’s arms, but since he’s not in the bed with me, I guess he didn’t sleep so well.

  I hope he’s listened to me about sharing some of the facts of his story. The media, if handled the right way, can be a good thing. He might even save someone; another young actor who is being pushed into the same position he was in. I don’t understand some people in our industry. They use and abuse others for their own gain. It’s wrong.

  After going to the bathroom, I go in search of him. Downstairs is silent and dark, although there is light coming from the kitchen. I wander into the kitchen and the patio doors are open. A light wind blows inside. I step out onto the deck. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I was restless. Tossing and turning,” he says, without turning to face me. “I didn’t want to disturb you. What brings you out here?”

  “You. I woke up and you were gone. I missed having your arms around me.” I decide not to tell him about my nightmare. He has enough on his mind without me adding to his worries.

  “Come here.” He holds out his hand as I walk toward him, already feeling that familiar pull between us. When I’m in front of him, he pulls me down onto his lap, his hand resting on my stomach. “You do know how much you mean to me?” he asks, a thick sadness to his voice.

  “I have a pretty good idea.”

  “I’m worried about the fallout from this story. I don’t want my past tainting our future together. And I certainly don’t want it to affect you and your career in any way.” There’s a shake, an edge in his voice.

  “This isn’t going to affect either of us. Our future together and our careers. I think you need to tell your story. To be truthful and not leave any part of it out. From what Julie said about the press, the story that was printed today was very sympathetic. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I understand your reservations. I wasn’t sure about going public about Donovan, but I’m glad I did. It might not seem like a good idea, and if you do go public, you have to tell your parents, so they know to expect the story in the papers.”

  “They’d like to have lunch with us today before they go home. And I meant to say last night, Mum said thanks for the offer to stay here but she thought we’d need the space.”

  “Lunch would be nice, and they are more than welcome here anytime. But I’m glad it’s just the two of us.”

  I close my eyes and inhale. The sweet aroma of the mug of coffee on the table takes over my senses. The bitter, yet inviting smell fills the atmosphere, making my taste buds ache for a taste of the creamy, smooth coffee.

  “I can hear you deep in thought. What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking your coffee smells delicious.”

  He laughs lightly. “Have some if you want.”

  “No. I know what I would like, though,” I whisper, as a vision of us making love out here as the sun comes up has me smiling.

  “I’m sure that can be arranged,” he says, kissing the back of my neck.

  “YOU CAME BACK. WE DIDN’T expect to see you again so soon,” Mack says as I stop and sit down beside him and Jack, handing them each a hot cup of tea and the bags with the hot filled rolls. Michelle and Tom smile warmly.

  “I just thought I’d keep an eye on you, make sure you’re behaving yourself.”

  Mack laughs and Jack sits up, rubbing his eyes. “Me? I’m always behaving. Not sure about the young lad though. He’s always up to mischief.”

  “Is that so?” I ask, turning my attention back to Jack. His eyes are red and heavy and his face looks a bit puffy. “What’s wrong, Jack?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine,” he snaps. He’s anything but fine. I frown, looking at Michelle. I can see she’s concerned about him too.

  “He’s got the start of a cold,” Mack says.

  “How about I take you both for something to eat and drink inside a café?”

  “Miss Ella, you have a lot to learn,” Mack says. “If we leave our spot, someone else will take it and we’ll have to move on. I like this spot. I’ve been here for a while.”

  “Okay, I understand,” I say, not really understanding, but I can see it’s important to Mack.

  “I think I should go and get you both extra blankets and medicine for Jack, unless you want to come into the shelter and see a doctor?” Michelle says. Tom nods in agreement.

  “He won’t go,” Mack says. “Medicine, blankets, and some water will be fine.”

  “Got it,” Michelle says before walking away.

  “Mack, what do you both do during the day?” Tom asks as he sits down beside us.

  “Well, since the lad is with me, my days aren’t quite so lonely. For the first time in years, I feel as though I have a purpose. We might be living on the streets but that doesn’t mean I’ve no principles. I ensure he and I go and wash up in the morning in the public toilets. One of the attendants is really nice. He opens them ten minutes early for us. And with the toiletries and toothpaste that are given to us, we at least look clean at the start of every day. Although, depending on the weather conditions, we might look like our normal s
cruffy selves by lunchtime.”

  “What about food?”

  “Well, we get hot food and drink from the charity at night. I usually beg, and on a good day, by mid-afternoon I can have enough money to buy us both a roll and maybe some sweets as a treat. On a bad day, I try to give the boy food, but he’s a stubborn wee lad and always halves whatever I give him.”

  I can’t help but smile at his words. Jack might only be a boy, but he’s thoughtful and caring. My eyes drift to him and he’s shivering. Tom sees it as well and he takes off his jacket and wraps it around his shoulders. I inch closer to Jack and wrap my arms around him. I expect him to push me away or at least argue with me, but nothing.

  I rub my hands on his arm, offering him a little comfort. “Mack, when did he start feeling unwell?”

  “Late this afternoon. He’s had a few cups of hot tea but wouldn’t take anything to eat.”

  I feel Jack’s head and I think he’s got a bit of a temperature.

  “What are you thinking?” Tom asks with concern.

  “I don’t know. I think it might be flu, but I’m hoping just a virus.” Tom and Mack sit talking but I don’t pay much attention. My attention is on the boy who has now snuggled into the warmth of my body, still shivering.

  My phone buzzes and I take it from my pocket and read the message.

  Connor: What time do you want me to pick you up?

  He had wanted to come with me tonight, but I didn’t want Mack or Jack to feel overwhelmed and Connor agreed with me. I know I need to gain their trust, and bringing someone else with me so soon most probably wouldn’t sit well with either of them.

  Connor isn’t going to like my reply. I know it, but given the circumstances, I hope he understands.

  Me: You won’t need to pick me up. The boy I told you about is unwell. I’m staying with him.

  Connor: What hospital are you at? I’ll come to you.

  Me: No he’s not at the hospital.

  Connor: Do you mean you’re staying on the streets with him?

  Me: Yes.

  I frown as my phone starts ringing. “Everything okay?” Tom asks.