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The only explanation was exhaustion.
What she needed was to return to the quiet order of her bedsit, ground herself in real life again and sleep for a week.
A tired sigh left her lips as the pale Georgian terraces of Colville Gardens glided past the car window. Not long now.
‘What the hell..?’ Connor’s startled shout had Juno’s drooping eyelids jerking open.
She peered out of the limo’s tinted window. How peculiar. A herd of people crowded round the front of Daisy and Connor’s house, spilling off the pavement and blocking the road. Then one man with two enormous cameras hanging from his neck broke from the herd and ran towards them. He lifted one of his cameras and fired. The flash of strobe lighting seared Juno’s eyeballs like a flame-thrower. By the time she’d refocused the pack of photographers had surrounded the vehicle like ravening wolves.
‘We’ll have to run for it.’ Connor lifted Ronan out of his car seat and cocooned the crying baby against his shoulder. He tapped the partition. ‘Jim, get as close as you can and then call the police.’
The chauffeur signalled with his mobile, already dialling the local constabulary.
Juno stumbled out of the car behind Daisy and Connor. The barrage of flashes blinded her as whirring shutter clicks and urgent shouts battered her eardrums. She shielded her eyes from the glare and gripped Daisy’s hand as they elbowed their way through the crowd. But she couldn’t shield her ears from the questions fired at her like bullets.
‘Juno, how long have you known Mac Brody?’ ‘Is he as hot as everyone says, Juno?’ ‘You two an item now?’ ‘Where’s Mac? Will he be visiting you in Portobello for another night of passion?’
Her head throbbed and her eyes stung as she and Daisy ran up the steps of the house behind Connor and the baby, flashbulbs exploding in her face like a demented fireworks display.
She could hear Ronan’s high-pitched wailing as Connor shoved open the door, jostled them inside and then slammed it in the face of the media horde.
‘What the hell was that all about?’ Connor shouted.
‘Keep your voice down,’ Daisy admonished him. She scooped the distressed baby out of Connor’s arms and rocked him.
All three of them jumped when a newspaper landed on the mat and a nose and mouth appeared in the letter slot. ‘Fantastic picture, Juno. You sure you ain’t got a comment?’ a disembodied cockney voice pleaded.
Connor swore and slapped the flap shut as he bent to pick up the newspaper. ‘Take this and go to the study,’ he said, shoving the paper into Juno’s hands. ‘I’ll wait for the police.’ He pulled his mobile out of his top pocket. ‘The firm’s security can send over some muscle as well.’
Juno followed Daisy and the baby to the study, consumed by guilt.
Why hadn’t she thought of the possible fallout from last night? Mac was a famous man. Of course their little tryst wouldn’t have remained a secret. And now she’d brought this madness down on Connor and Daisy, on the first day of their honeymoon.
Daisy peeked out of the study window. ‘Good grief, they’re like a swarm of locusts,’ she murmured, her voice ripe with fascination as she let the curtain fall.
‘This is all my fault,’ Juno mumbled, hideously ashamed.
‘Ju, what on earth’s the matter?’ Daisy hurried over and took her arm. ‘Sit down before you fall down.’
Juno sank onto the sofa. Daisy perched beside her as Ronan’s cries turned to jerky sobs. Juno’s guilt intensified. How could she have been so thoughtless and irresponsible last night?
She stroked a trembling palm down Ronan’s curls, his gulping sobs piercing her heart. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘Will Ronan be all right?’
‘Ronan will be fine,’ Daisy said easily. ‘He’s had a bit of a shock, that’s all.’ Unbuttoning her blouse, she lifted her breast deftly out of her nursing bra and the baby’s mouth latched onto her nipple. His sobs gentled as he concentrated on sucking voraciously. ‘You see, all sorted.’
Daisy patted Juno’s knee and smiled. ‘You can stop shaking now, he’s okay.’ She nodded at the paper still clutched forgotten in Juno’s fist. ‘Why don’t we see what the fuss is about?’
Juno unfolded the paper on her lap and gawped at the front page.
Underneath the banner headline ‘Hollywood Hunk Brody’s Night of Passion with London Shop Girl’ was a huge, grainy, colour photograph. Despite the poor picture quality, the image had recognition blazing through Juno like a fireball. Mac towered over her on the chteau balcony, his dark head obscuring most of her face as his mouth devoured hers. His large hand covered her bottom, drawing her close, while her fingers clutched at his shoulders as she kissed him back for all she was worth.
Daisy hummed. ‘Suddenly, the mystery is solved.’
Juno slapped the paper closed, despair and humiliation churning in her stomach. How did you go about explaining the unexplainable? ‘I didn’t plan for it to happen. He kissed me on the balcony—and we sort of got carried away.’
‘I can see that,’ Daisy said, a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth.
‘This is so awful.’ How typical that her big Cinderella moment should turn into a pantomime disaster.
