He poured out two mugs of coffee and took them over to Terry at the kitchen table.
“Do you think India’s getting too serious too soon with Michael?” Terry asked Reece as he sat down opposite him.
Terry often visited Reece now. They lived quite close to each other and Terry liked his company. He was a good man, a nice guy, and someone he could talk to quite openly about India, something he felt he really needed sometimes because he worried about her so much. “I mean, this moving in together and everything. Doesn’t it seem a bit quick to you?”
Reece leant back in his chair, taking a sip of coffee. “Maybe. I don’t know, it’s a strange one. At first I thought it was just a rebound thing from Kenny, but I think we can write that one off now. It’s quite obviously a lot more than that. She seems happy though, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
Terry shrugged, checking his watch. “Suppose so.” He had to be at soccer coaching in an hour or so but he enjoyed these occasional morning coffees with Reece, because it just didn’t feel like he was sitting in the home of a famous movie star. Reece had a knack of making people feel comfortable. So comfortable that he had Terry drinking coffee before 10 am and that in itself was an achievement.
Reece took another sip of coffee, staring briefly out of the window as the Californian sun beat down on the pool outside. Despite it being nearly Christmas it was still warm and sunny. Reece loved this climate. There wasn’t a thing that could make him want to move back to Ireland on a permanent basis, although he did have a home over in Waterford that he used to escape to when he had the time, but he hadn’t been there in a while. Not since all of this had started.
“Have you spoken to India? About her and Michael I mean,” Reece asked, turning his attention back to Terry, aware that he was constantly worried about his sister after what had happened with Kenny, but Reece knew he felt he could talk to him. India was the one main thing they had in common.
“No. Well, I’ve tried to get stuff out of her but she’s walking round like some sixteen year old who’s just got her first boyfriend, and to be honest, it’s hard to get her on her own these days. If she isn’t with Michael she’s hanging around with Kenny – and what’s that all about, anyway? I still can’t understand why she wants to stay close to him.”
Reece crossed his legs and pushed a hand through his hair. “He’s her friend, Terry. We’ll never change that.”
Terry started flicking through a magazine lying on the table, one that featured a couple of the less revealing photographs from India’s ‘Viper’ shoot.
“Have you seen these?” Terry asked. He knew his sister was one amazing looking woman but he still found it hard to look at photos like that, even if nothing was on show in these particular ones. It was still more-than-obvious she was naked.
“Hmm? What?” Reece asked, looking over at Terry, who was holding up the magazine, open at the page of India’s photographs. “I flicked through them, yeah.” Reece had found it extremely uncomfortable looking at those pictures. Seeing India like that wasn’t something he wanted to make a habit of. “What about you?”
“She’s my sister, Reece. I can’t go there. I’ve had enough stick from my mates back home who’ve bought the bloody magazine.”
Reece smiled. “They don’t really show that much.”
“I don’t care. They show enough, and she’s my baby sister. I don’t want to know.”
The sound of the doorbell made them both look up, and Terry took one last swig of his coffee, picking up his kit bag as he stood up.
“I’ll get that on my way out. Give me a call later ok, and we’ll try and arrange some time to go out and grab that beer.”
Terry had plans for the day ahead. He had the new school soccer team to sort out and he needed to talk to the Principal about the arrangements for the up and coming inter-schools tournament in the New Year. He had a lot to do but he felt as though he’d finally found something he could get his teeth into, and be around his sister at the same time. What could possibly be better than that? Nothing, not in his book. So he’d never become the really famous footballer he’d always dreamed of being back home in England, but he’d come to accept that circumstances had changed, and he’d changed with them. Maybe for the better.
He reached Reece’s huge wooden double front door, rummaging round in his bag for his car keys as he opened it, not looking up immediately to see who was there.
“Terry ... I ... I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He looked up slowly, recognising the voice but not quite believing he was hearing it until he saw her, standing there on Reece’s doorstep - in the middle of Malibu.
“What the hell ...”
The woman standing there in front of him smiled. “So, aren’t you going to say hello to your mum?”
CHAPTER 18
“You were amazing today,” Michael said, as he stood by the door of India’s trailer, arms folded, sunglasses pushed up on top of his head.
She looked at him, smiling slightly. “You’re just saying that so you’ll get sex later.”
“Later? I was banking on a quick one now, between scenes.”
She knew he was only joking; he had that smirk on his face.
“You were great out there though, baby. Seriously.”
She went over to him, sliding her arms loosely round his waist, underneath his jacket, kissing him slowly - her favourite way to kiss him. He had the sexiest mouth. She’d suddenly remembered, a couple of nights ago, how she and Charley had once commented on that as they’d sat watching one of his films at home in the flat in Newcastle one night, years ago. It had been a throwaway comment, but little had she known then that one day she’d spend so much time kissing that self same mouth.
“I like you as a director, Mr. Walsh.”
He gave her that smile again. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She smiled back, squeezing him tight, pushing herself against him. “I like it when you get all dominant and demanding. It kind of turns me on.”
“Really?” He was still smirking.
“Really.”
“I think you’re trying to take advantage of the director here, Ms. Steven.”
“Would I do a thing like that?”
He pushed his sunglasses down over his eyes. “I was hoping so, yes.”
She burst out laughing. She loved him when he was like this. He was so funny, so able to make people laugh. She’d thought it had just been the way he played certain characters on-screen but he was so like that in real life too. Handsome and funny and kind. Why hadn’t she seen that before? Why hadn’t she seen what she saw now? Because she’d been blinded by Kenny, that’s why.
She pulled his sunglasses off and put them in his jacket pocket, leaning into him for another kiss.
“You are taking advantage, aren’t you, kiddo?”
“Perks of having my boyfriend as the director, Mikey.”
He lowered his mouth down onto hers in a long, deep kiss, giving into the moment, burying his fingers in her long hair, feeling her body warm against him. Forty-four years old and he felt like a student on prom night who’d just scored with the Homecoming Queen.
“I only came in to see if you were ready for this afternoon’s filming,” he smiled, stroking the hair from her eyes. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to just stay here and spend hours looking into those eyes.
“Well, that’ll teach you then, won’t it.”
He laughed. She loved that laugh, loved the way he threw his head back, she loved seeing him happy.
“Do we have to go out tonight?” she asked, playing with the collar of his jacket and wishing they had time for sex. She was becoming very needy in that department as far as Michael was concerned. Some days she only had to look at him and she wanted him so badly it hurt. There were even times when she’d wake up in the middle of the night and just turn over and watch him sleeping, wishing he’d wake up and make love to her. He was now a permanent fixture in her Beverly Hills home, and the
rumours that was causing to circulate around Hollywood were rife, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was that she and Michael were together.
“We’ve got to show our faces, sweetheart. They’re expecting us.” Although Michael wished, just as much as she did, that they could give it a miss and spend the night alone instead of with hundreds of other people and the inevitable paparazzi that would be hanging around, waiting for yet another picture of them together.
They were going to a big charity event in West Hollywood, a black tie affair, and that meant getting dressed up to the hilt again. India loved getting dressed up as much as the next girl, something she’d never thought would happen to her because she’d never really been a girlie-girl. But the world she now lived in had changed her to some extent and she was quite happy to roll with it, especially when they could make her look a million dollars every time she walked out the door. It was just that, tonight, she really couldn’t be bothered. She’d felt tired all day, unusually so, and the thought of having to go out after a whole day filming wasn’t one she was looking forward to. Tonight she just wanted to have Michael all to herself. She had to share him so much and she wanted him to concentrate totally on her for a few hours. But, instead of going home later to a quiet house, they’d be going home to a houseful of make-up artists and stylists and she’d just have to deal with that.
She started to kiss him again, her fingers gently stroking the back of his neck.
“You are making me so late back on set, missy,” he groaned, knowing he should be leaving her trailer right now, before this went too far.
“I love you, Michael Walsh,” she whispered, her mouth resting on his as she spoke.
He stroked her face, looking into those beautiful eyes and wishing, just wishing they had the time. “I love you too, baby.” He’d never tire of saying those words, words he’d waited years to say to her. But one more kiss and he had to go. He was a professional if nothing else. “See you back out there, ok?” he smiled, his fingers slowly letting go of hers and she smiled back.
“Yeah. Ok.”
She sat down on the sofa, watching him walk back to the set, hugging her knees to her chest as she pulled out the letter she’d hurriedly stuffed down the side of the sofa when he’d come in. It was a letter from Charley, passed on to her via her agent’s office, and in it Charley had detailed exactly what kind of trouble she was in. How Jimmy was now making her life hell since finding out about that night with Kenny, about how she was being forced to make movies in which she was made to do things she hated, things she couldn’t stomach but things she had to do otherwise Jimmy would see to it that her life would be made even more uncomfortable than it already was. She told India how she couldn’t escape due to the amount of people Jimmy had watching her all the time but how she needed to get out before something really bad happened to her. She was scared and afraid and lonely and that hit India hard. Charley was her friend, after all, despite everything that had gone on. It was old news now anyway. If all of that hadn’t happened with her and Kenny then she and Michael may never have got together. But whilst it had all turned out wonderfully for India, for Charley her life was now a nightmare, and India couldn’t let it stay that way. She had to think though, had to think of what to do, how to sort this out because, right now, she didn’t have a clue. The only thing she did know was that the only person she could turn to over this was Kenny.
***
“Is somebody going to tell me what the hell is going on here?” Terry asked, as they all stood in Reece’s kitchen. Him, Reece Brogan – Hollywood movie star - and his mother! What in God’s name was she doing here in L.A.? And why? Terry didn’t know what to think, it was like some ridiculous, surreal nightmare.
Reece hadn’t been able to hide the shock on his face when she’d walked into the room because she’d been the last person he’d ever expected to see. He’d thought it was all over, all finally worked out, sorted, finished with, but it certainly looked like he was wrong on that score.
He tried to avoid Terry’s eyes as he looked over at him. He felt numb, unable to get his head around what was happening, and what was now inevitably going to happen.
“Well? Are you going to tell me what she’s doing here?”
“Terry ... I ... I can explain.”
“Then please do because I am fucking confused like you wouldn’t believe. The last time I saw my mother she was in England, serving school dinners in the west end of Newcastle, and now she’s standing here in fucking Malibu! Not only that, but why is she here, at your house?” He looked over at his mother. Her face was expressionless, calm even. She just kept looking over at Reece as if she was expecting him to say something. “Are you here to see India? Is that it? Are you after her money? You spend your whole life ignoring her, not giving a toss about her but now she’s famous you want a piece of her, is that it? Huh?” He was getting exasperated now, pushing a hand through his hair, leaning back against the breakfast bar. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here, in Reece Brogan’s house.” He looked over at Reece again, his eyes now demanding answers and Reece knew he couldn’t keep it quiet any longer. It was over.
“This ... this has got something to do with India, yes,” Reece said, wishing this wasn’t happening this way. This wasn’t the way he’d wanted this to play out. He’d really gained Terry’s trust and now all that was in jeopardy. But what really mattered was India. In all of this she was the one who stood to get hurt if this wasn’t dealt with correctly.
Terry was still looking at him, still expecting answers. If only it was that simple, thought Reece.
“Come on then. I’m waiting.” He hadn’t missed the look that had just passed between Reece and his mother. “Well?”
Reece looked down at the floor for a second, running a hand through his now slightly greying hair before he looked back up at Terry, sighing heavily. This wasn’t the way he’d wanted to tell him this. It really wasn’t.
“I’m ... I’m India’s father, Terry. She ... she’s my daughter.”
Terry laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Sorry? I’m not sure I heard that right. I could have sworn you just said you were India’s father.”
“This isn’t the way I wanted to tell you, Terry, believe me.”
“No, I’m bloody sure it isn’t.” He looked over at his mother, who was now staring out of the huge French windows at the ocean view. She didn’t seem in any hurry to deny it, and the look on Reece’s face wasn’t that of a man who would lie about something so serious. “This isn’t a joke, is it?”
“I know this must have come as a bit of a shock ...”
“That’s one way of putting it, yeah.” Terry couldn’t quite get his head around all of this. He’d woken up this morning, thinking it was just another ordinary day, and then all of a sudden his mother turns up in Malibu and Reece announces, out-of-the-blue, that he’s India’s dad! What kind of shit was going on here? It was only 8am but he really needed a drink. And was his mother going to say anything? Ok, so he’d just been dealt that knockout shock but there was more to this than he’d been told, that was obvious. “I’m assuming India knows nothing about this.”
“No. She doesn’t,” Reece sighed.
“And when were you planning on telling her?”
“When the time was right ... Terry, listen, this isn’t something you can just come out with, there’s a lot to explain.”
“Too fucking right there is!” He pushed a hand through his hair again, throwing his head back and closing his eyes for a second. “Jesus ... I can’t do this, I just can’t do this right now. I need five minutes to get my head together.” He looked at the two of them, still unable to believe what was going on. “I’ve got to go and call work, then I need some fresh air.”
Reece felt a wave of panic rise up in him, terrified of what Terry might do. “Terry, please ...”
Terry looked at him. “It’s alright. I’m not going to go running to India. She deserves better than that. I’ll be back
in a few minutes and maybe then someone can start giving me some kind of explanation.”
Reece watched him leave, then turned to look at the woman who’d caused him so much heartache, so much stress over these last few years. With her bleached blonde hair and her over-made up face she was nothing like her beautiful daughter. India had, thankfully, inherited none of her harsh features.
“What’re you doing here, Angie?”
“I told you I’d be back, Reece.”
“I thought we’d sorted this out.” His voice was angry now. She’d come into his home and turned everything on it’s head and she had no right. None. “That last payment was more than enough, not to mention the house, the car ... all of that, Angie, all of that was given to you on condition that you didn’t turn up on my doorstep and fuck everything up, yet here you are. One call to Max, that’s all it’ll take me, one call to Max ...”
“I wouldn’t do that, Reece. India doesn’t know the truth yet, remember?”
He couldn’t believe this woman was India’s mother, that he’d ever gone near her in the first place. Could she really care so little for her own daughter that she’d be willing to hurt her for money?
“So, what do you want?” His voice was resigned. There was no time to call his lawyer; he’d have to sort this one out himself.
“Another million. One million and I’ll walk away.”
“A million.” It wasn’t a question.
She nodded as Reece went over to a desk in the corner of the room, opening a drawer and taking out a cheque book.
“And what about India?” he asked, opening the cheque book.
“She’s your responsibility now,” Angie shrugged.
He looked at her. “You don’t tell her, you got that? I give you this money, this one final payment – and I mean final, Angie – and you let me tell her.”
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