Just Like in the Movies
Page 14
‘Oh.’ Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, which was not helping him in his battle to keep the blood flowing in the right direction.
‘Yeah, oh.’
Now she was starting to get it.
Or so he thought, until her brow puckered again.
‘So why didn’t you, then?’
Oh, for … ‘Because you and me, Ruby, that’s not happening.’ On that point, he was definite – he’d given it a lot of thought since … well, since inappropriate thoughts about her had become a regular occurrence. He wasn’t even sure when that had happened, but he needed to stop pretending it wasn’t happening because then he did dumb things like offering to rinse her hair.
He couldn’t sleep with Ruby because their relationship was complicated enough already. His libido would just have to get with the programme.
‘But why not,’ she said. ‘If we both want to?’
Damn but she was persistent. ‘That’s just it, I don’t want to. Not with you.’
‘Why not with me? Is there something wrong with me?’ She looked offended, and that had not been his intention. So what else was new? ‘Am I so unattractive all of a sudden?’
‘You know damn well you’re not,’ he said, not sure if she was fishing for a compliment, or simply trying to piss him off. Either way it was working. ‘But that’s the whole problem, I’m here for a month, six weeks tops, and I don’t need the complication.’
‘It doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s just a biological urge.’
She sounded like she meant it. Maybe she did, or thought she did. But she was kidding herself, and he wasn’t that easily fooled.
Ruby Graham was a romantic. But unlike his mom, she was also the real deal.
The sort of woman who probably teared up watching cheesy movies, but who wouldn’t cry when her heart was breaking. The sort of woman who believed in fighting for hopeless causes, and would happily risk arrest to make a dead guy’s dying wish come true.
‘Whatever,’ he said. ‘I’m not indulging my biological urges with you. You’re too nice.’
‘I’m too …’ Her face screwed up in horror. Okay, he’d upset her now, as well as offending her, but what choice did he have? ‘I’m not nice,’ she sounded appalled. ‘I’m a badass, you said so yourself.’
‘I wasn’t thinking straight when I said that.’ Hell, he hadn’t been thinking at all. But he was thinking fine now – give or take the odd rush of blood from his brain – and if he couldn’t let her down easy, he would just have to let her down hard. ‘Don’t push me, Ruby, or we’ll have to call this whole arrangement off. And I don’t want to do that. Do you?’
Her face fell and he saw the moment the fight went out of her. ‘No, I don’t.’
He hooked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans, hunched his shoulders, feeling vaguely guilty for putting the defeated look into her eyes. Which was dumb. He’d given it to her straight. He didn’t hook up with women who were likely to misconstrue sex for something else. Especially if he was in danger of misconstruing it for something else, too … He already liked Ruby, too much. She made him laugh, she seemed genuine, boning her would create problems he did not need.
‘You want me to write you that list now?’ he asked.
‘Just tell me,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a very good memory.’
He reeled off the list of things he needed to jerry-rig her boiler, all business again. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel all business, as she headed off to purchase the stuff he needed, and he headed down to the theatre’s basement to get his tools.
But he’d get there, eventually, he reassured himself – especially if he didn’t make the mistake of offering to rinse her hair again any time soon.
Chapter 9
‘Luke the Builder’s buns are a work of art are they not?’ Jacie whispered theatrically as she gazed past the bar at the back of the auditorium to where Luke was busy up a ladder finishing off the repair work on the auditorium’s cornice. ‘Everything they say about men in tool belts is true,’ Jacie purred, as she helped Ruby polish the bar for the start of the LGBTQIA+ weekender in four hours.
‘Stop objectifying his arse, Jace, it’s so uncool,’ Ruby hissed, trying and failing not to glance in Luke’s direction herself.
Her scalp bristled from the memory of his fingers circling her skin that morning as he reached forward to mould the last of the filler into the cracks on the cornice.
The man was fitness personified. Seriously, it wasn’t fair. Then again, she deserved every ounce of sexual frustration she was suffering from. Maybe if she hadn’t molested him this morning after he did her a favour – two favours if you counted his miraculous ability to get her boiler working again – her hormones wouldn’t have been in a hot mess ever since.
‘Stop being such a killjoy,’ Jacie hissed back. ‘He can’t hear us, and anyway, you’ve been objectifying those buns of steel, too. I’ve seen you.’
Ruby swallowed down her retort and sprayed some more polish. Jacie wasn’t wrong, and arguing about it with her would just make her think about Luke’s buns more and she’d been thinking – and watching – them enough already.
‘Hey Ruby,’ Gerry appeared from the lobby area, juggling the large mailing box which contained the Brokeback Mountain print and the handset from the phone in the ticket office. ‘I’m just gonna take this up to Errol, you wanna check it with us?’
‘Sure,’ Ruby murmured, although she wasn’t sure watching Jack Twist and Ennis Del Mar get hot and bothered in a pup tent was really going to help with her hormonal problem. ‘Why have you brought the phone in?’
‘Oh, yeah, I forgot.’ Gerry placed the parcel full of film reels on the bar. ‘There’s a lady on the phone asking for the manager of The Royale.’ He placed his hand on the mouthpiece. ‘I didn’t catch her name but she sounded important.’
‘Thanks, Gerry.’ Ruby took the phone while stifling a sigh.
Important-sounding ladies on the phone could mean one of two things, neither of them good: the bank was calling to harass her about their debit bank balance, again, or one of her suppliers wasn’t prepared to wait any longer to get their invoice paid.
‘Hello, this is Ruby Graham, I’m the manager of The Royale,’ she said into the receiver.
‘Ruby, hello, it’s so wonderful to finally speak to you at last.’ The crisp British accent echoed down the phone line. ‘I’ve been meaning to call you for days.’
‘Hi, that’s … thanks,’ Ruby said feeling overwhelmed while also completely nonplussed. ‘It’s wonderful to speak to you, too …’ I think.
Ruby’s fingers tightened on the handset.
Whoever this woman was, she wasn’t calling from the bank or Tasty Treats Gourmet Popcorn, which ought to be good. But Gerry was right, she sounded very important, so important Ruby felt intimidated. Not only that, Ruby recognized that commanding crystal-clear voice, but she couldn’t quite place it. Did she know this woman? She didn’t sound like the sort of woman you would forget.
‘There’s no call to thank me, my dear,’ the woman said with a deep throaty chuckle that sounded even more disturbingly familiar.
Good grief, was sexual frustration now messing with her cognitive skills, too?
‘In fact, I believe I am the one who should be thanking you,’ she added.
Why? Ruby wondered as the strange conversation strayed even deeper into The Twilight Zone.
‘I … I see,’ Ruby said, although she didn’t see at all. ‘Could I ask who I’m speaking to? I’m afraid my …’ She struggled for a more upmarket sounding title for Gerry than barman. ‘My colleague didn’t catch your name.’
‘Yes, of course, my dear. Silly me.’ The woman gave another smoky chuckle, that finally pierced through the fog of confusion.
Was this …? Surely, it couldn’t be? Could it?
‘My name’s Helena Devlin, darling. I’m Matty’s sister,’ she added, not that there was any need to clarify that announcement.
Oh.
My. Fucking. God.
I’m talking to an actual Broadway legend … And Rafael Falcone’s lover … And Luke’s mum.
‘I … Wow. Hi. It’s … it’s such an honour to be talking to you,’ Ruby stuttered, almost dropping the phone, pleased she’d managed to stop herself from saying anything completely inane out loud.
She really ought to have recognized the voice immediately. Apart from the fact that Helena Devlin was a stage legend, Ruby had seen every one of her movies, and she’d watched her debut, One Summer in Sorrento, about thirty times. It was the film the then twenty-two-year-old British ingénue had starred in opposite Rafael Falcone. The film that had kicked off their tempestuous and famously short-lived affair. The film that had effectively created Luke, Ruby realised, as her gaze tracked back to the buns of steel across the auditorium. With his earphones in as he applied the last of the plaster he was oblivious to what was going on.
Both Jacie and Gerry were staring at her expectantly, obviously wondering what had gotten her so flustered.
‘No, dear, it is I who am honoured,’ Helena Devlin announced, sounding more sincere than Halle Berry giving an Oscar acceptance speech.
‘Really?’ Ruby asked. ‘Oh? Why?’
‘Because I understand you’ve managed to persuade my son Luke to take leave of absence from his construction firm. Which, believe me, is no small feat. I’ve certainly never managed it.’
‘You … you haven’t?’
Helena laughed again, the rich throaty sound making Ruby feel as if she were the most amusing and erudite person on the planet – which seemed unlikely seeing as she was struggling to string a sentence together.
‘My dear Ruby, I can’t even manage to persuade him to stop by for a ten-minute mimosa break before curtain-up.’
Helena sounded more amused than offended by her son’s lack of attention, but Ruby still felt the sting of guilt. And the need to explain herself. ‘I really didn’t persuade him to come to London. He was sort of forced to,’ she said. ‘To complete a community service order.’
‘Really?’ It was Helena’s turn to sound incredulous. ‘A community service order?’ she added, sounding intrigued. ‘My goodness, what on earth did he do to acquire that? I’ve never met anyone more boringly law-abiding than my eldest progeny in my entire life.’
My eldest progeny?
Ruby swallowed down her own incredulity as Jacie started flaying her arms about wildly – obviously losing patience with having the identity of the mystery ‘important lady’ caller revealed.
‘Well, we got arrested, about a month ago,’ Ruby winced. ‘Which was entirely my fault. I asked for Luke’s help and, even though he told me not to do it, that it might be illegal, I wanted to do it anyway.’ The whole sorry saga began to spill out of Ruby’s month. Luke had not been to blame and she really didn’t want to get him into any more trouble, especially with his mother. ‘And, well … The Royal Parks police weren’t very impressed. Although I still think the young constable who arrested us was a bit over-enthusiastic. I mean, there was no one else about. And it had been Matty’s dying wish to have his ashes scattered at the Serpentine. And, I actually think our rendition of “Over the Rainbow” was quite tuneful, considering.’
She finally stopped to draw breath. And realised she could hear Helena chuckling down the other end of the phone line. Not a sarcastic laugh, but a genuine, heartfelt full-bodied inclusive laugh – as if Ruby were part of the joke, not the butt of it. Ruby’s anxiety faded a little.
‘My darling, that is simply priceless,’ Helena murmured. ‘I don’t know how you managed to get my Luke singing a show tune while scattering my brother’s ashes in a park and then getting him arrested but, however you managed it, I salute you. And I’m sure Matty would have adored you for it, too …’ She paused. The rich amusement in her voice had faded when she continued. ‘But then I’m sure you know that, if you knew Matty well, and it sounds as if you did.’
‘Yes, I did.’ Ruby’s throat began to clog. This was so surreal, to be talking to Matty’s sister about him. The sister he hadn’t talked to in more than thirty years. She wondered if Matty would see this conversation as a betrayal. After all, he’d had a thirty-something-year-old feud with this woman. But as soon as the thought occurred to her, she dismissed it. On the very few occasions Matty had mentioned Helena, or spoken about her, he had never seemed angry with his sister, more sad and disappointed. Ruby had no idea what had caused their long silence, she’d always sort of assumed Helena must have instigated it, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was some silly disagreement that they’d never had a chance to resolve.
‘I did know him. I loved your brother a great deal,’ Ruby found herself saying as the familiar tears leaked out of her eyes. ‘Matty was my best friend for a long time. And he always will be.’
‘I know that feeling, my dear,’ Helena said, her voice rough with sympathy and understanding. ‘He was my best friend, too … once. And I’ve missed him more than you can imagine over the last thirty-one years. What fools we both were not to bury that hatchet a long time ago. And now I will never have that chance. I feel devastated about that. I’m so glad that, while I was foolishly holding on to my pride, he had someone like you to look after him.’
‘I didn’t look after him,’ Ruby said, her voice broke as the tears she thought she’d finally gotten a handle on over the last few weeks started to strangle her again. ‘He looked after me.’
The strange Twilight Zone conversation continued, but the ball of grief that had made Ruby feel wretched for so long, didn’t feel quite so wretched as Helena spoke to her about her brother. Ruby could hear the raw edge of grief in the actress’s rich resonant voice – a voice that had entertained kings and presidents and seduced a movie icon – and Ruby realised for the first time she was speaking to someone who understood the full extent of how hard her life was going to be without Matty.
Every morning when she woke up, for a split-second, she would believe Matty was still alive, but then the truth would slam into her again, and shove her into the deep bottomless pit which she would have to drag herself out of to function.
And no one else truly understood how deep and black and all-consuming that pit was. Because no one else had ever depended on Matty or loved him, or enjoyed his cheesy taste in movies or his daft exploits or his ridiculous sense of humour as much as she had.
But as Helena spoke, Ruby realised even if Helena hadn’t talked to her brother in over thirty years, Helena understood about that bottomless pit, how cold and black and ugly and unforgiving it was, because she had been in it a great deal longer.
Ruby sniffed and chuckled weakly, turning her back on Jacie and Gerry who now both looked appalled, while clinging to Helena’s voice and the distinctive rasp of emotion in it she recognized from One Summer in Sorrento. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, as she listened to a wonderful anecdote about Matty from forty years ago.
Helena Devlin knew. Helena Devlin understood.
And for the first time in months, Ruby felt less alone.
***
Luke pressed the last of the plaster into the damaged moulding with his fingertips while The Strokes banged out ‘Last Night’ on his ear buds. The raw angry lyrics fit his mood as he wiped his fingers on his overalls and reached round to pluck the moist piece of cloth from his tool belt. Plastering of this sort was hard sweaty precision work, but The Royale deserved the care he was giving it. He’d never seen such intricate moulding in a building of this sort. And concentrating on the plasterwork and The Strokes’ date night disaster song was keeping his mind off Ruby and their boiler date that wasn’t from a couple of hours ago.
But as he stretched to wipe the last of the residue, a tug on his overalls startled him so much he almost toppled off the ladder. He whipped out an ear bud to find Jacie the theatre’s assistant manager standing below him. The troubled look in her usually lively brown eyes had him swallowing down the swear word about to bounce off his tongue.
‘It’s Ruby,’ she said without any preamble. ‘I think she’s having a breakdown talking to your mother.’
‘Huh?’ The tension in his gut he always got when his mother was mentioned had him tightening his grip on the ladder.
‘Helena Devlin, your mother,’ Jacie said, as if she were talking to a dumb toddler. ‘She’s on the phone to Ruby right now and Ruby’s in floods of tears. I’ve never seen her so weepy. Not even at the hospital when they told us Matty was gone.’
‘Fuck!’ Luke jumped off the ladder, ignoring the wobble in his knees and marched across the auditorium towards the woman he’d been trying to ignore for the last two hours. Jacie scrambled after him.
Ruby stood with her back to them both, her shoulders hunched and trembling. Gerry sat next to her on a bar stool looking even more troubled than Jacie.
Ruby had changed into a pair of skinny jeans and a Pride in London T-shirt, Luke noted. The heat pulsed in his abdomen, as it did every time he got within a few feet of her, but he ignored that, too.
So not the damn time.
What was his mom playing at? What the hell was she saying to Ruby to make her cry? And how the heck had she gotten this number? The only two people he’d told his true whereabouts to were Gwen and his kid sister Becca, who he’d given the information to in case of a family emergency. And Gwen was a rock.
Becca? You didn’t? You’re a dead woman.
He tried to dial down on his fury with his kid sister. He of all people knew how hard his mom’s probing was to resist when she went the full Spanish Inquisition on your ass. But as he touched Ruby’s shoulder, she glanced round, and the fury lanced through him again.