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“Holy shit! You’re that actor!”
“Ben!” William shouts, glowering at his son.
It’s the first time I’ve met the younger Walker child after fleeing the barbecue early. I offer the boy, who resembles his mother, my hand. “Hey. I’m Laurie.”
He shakes it excitedly while looking all around me. “Where are your bodyguards and stuff?”
I start to chuckle. “Don’t believe everything you see in the movies,” I say. “I grew up around here. People don’t bat an eye when they see me walking round.”
William’s wife steps out of the cottage, pulling a suitcase behind her. I’m sure she stops when she sees me, just briefly, before carrying on. She soon smiles, though. Says hello. So, I assume I imagined it.
“That’s the last one, babe,” she says to William, winding her arm around his waist. She pulls him close, rises on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek.
William clears his throat and looks anywhere that’s not at me, and then takes the suitcase to the boot. Rebecca follows him, thanks him for putting it in the car with another kiss. I don’t want to watch but I can’t look away. I wonder if I’m purposely punishing myself. I know I deserve it, the pain it’s causing, the crushing weight in my chest when I see her lips touch his. I can hardly bear it. I know how those lips feel. How they taste. And they’re touching hers.
Jealous. That’s what I feel. I’d give anything to kiss William like that. Openly. In public. To hold his hand on the street. Rest my head on his shoulder. To love him in front of the world.
She gets that. She gets him.
“Do you know Tom Holland?” The kid, Ben, asks, interrupting my punishment.
“Uh, no. No, I don’t. Sorry,” I say, feeling the need to apologise when a flash of disappointment crosses his face.
“What about Chris Hemsworth?”
“We’ve met. Marvel fan, eh?”
The kid’s eyes are wider than spoons. “Do you get like, shit loads of free stuff?”
“Enough of the questions,” William cuts in, gently slapping his son’s back.
“It’s fine, really,” I say, hoping William will look at me.
And he does, just for a second, but it’s all I need. In that one second, in that brief intense and silent stare, I see it. I hear him.
Soon.
It’s not enough, but it will have to suffice.
“In the car,” he says to his son. Rebecca’s back now, fawning over him, linking her arm through his.
“It’s been wonderful,” she says to Josie and Emmett who emerge from the house, along with the eldest, Lucy. “We can’t thank you enough for your hospitality.”
“You must come back,” Josie says. “And keep in touch.”
Rebecca reaches out and takes Josie’s hand, while never letting go of her husband with the other. I stuff my hands in my pockets to hide the fists I can’t help forming. There are all kinds of things happening inside my body. Jealousy. Guilt. An engulfing urge to grab William’s hand and run.
I feel altogether sick. Stomach churning. Heart thumping. And awfully hot around my neck.
“Absolutely,” Rebecca croons. “I’ll probably be texting you before we even reach home.” Dropping Josie’s hand, she pats Emmett’s arm, says goodbye, and turns to me. “Bye, Laurie. Again, nice meeting you.”
“And you,” I offer with a curt nod. I’m surprised I manage that much.
“Okay.” She turns to William, grinning widely. “Let’s be off.”
William nods, steps aside so she can get to the car…and then he walks towards me.
My lungs freeze.
He proffers his hand.
“See you in a few days,” he says, with a smile that holds a promise only the two of us understand.
I take his hand with both of mine, careful to cover the movement of my thumb as it strokes softly over his palm. “See you.”
And then he leaves, and I have to watch him drive away with the family I know he loves. The family who’ve had his love for half a lifetime. The family he might love too much to destroy, even for me. And I feel crushed.
“Better get cleaned up for the next lot, then,” Josie announces. “They’re arriving at six. You helping, Laurie?”
“Uh, no, sorry. I need to go into town. Told my mum I’d pick some things up for her before I visit.” It’s not a total lie. I did say that. There’s a blue cheese made by one of the local farms here that my mum adores and if I turn up without some, she’ll disown me on the spot. However, I don’t plan on acquiring it until I leave tomorrow.
“Convenient,” Emmett cuts in, “When there’s work to be done.”
I ignore my brother, turn to go. “I’ll be back for supper.”
Home. There’s something in the Scottish air that soothes the soul. It happens as soon as I cross the border. Maybe it’s psychological, but I welcome it, nonetheless. I’ve driven here, deciding the hours of quiet and solitude would offer time for reflection. Maybe all that thinking will make a magic answer appear. Solve all my problems.
