Page 3 of Always With Love


  Billy clearly notices my apprehension as he has a little chuckle to himself and softly places a hand on top of mine, patting it gently.

  ‘Yeah … you know what,’ Lauren replies to my earlier comment, thoughtfully staring out of the window. ‘I hardly even notice it’s there any more.’

  ‘Same here,’ says Clive in the back, who’s stayed silent during the rest of the journey while everyone else has been nattering away. I have a feeling that (besides Billy), the women lead the majority of conversations in this family and that the guys just fill in the gaps or dive in whenever they can. ‘You know what it’s like, you see something every day and it’s difficult not to take it for granted.’

  ‘Forget its beauty,’ agrees Julie with a sigh.

  ‘That’s sad,’ I say.

  ‘I still feel the magic, though,’ Julie adds quickly, as though not wanting us to think she’s bored of being over there. ‘It’s brilliant out here. Waking up every day with the sun shining and blue skies above – hard not to get excited about that.’

  ‘Don’t miss the rain at all,’ mutters Lauren, subconsciously pulling on her halter-neck bikini strap.

  ‘I’m telling you, Sophie. Within a day or two you’ll be planning on moving out here yourself,’ says Julie, reaching over the seat and touching my shoulder.

  I laugh and give a little shift in my seat.

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that one, Mum,’ smiles Billy, winking at me when I look up at him. ‘You’ve never experienced the magic of Rosefont Hill.’

  ‘Yes. Well …’ Julie replies shortly, removing her hand. ‘It’s great that you’ve decided to have your work hiatus in such a magical setting.’

  ‘Just like you then, Mum,’ retorts Lauren.

  A silence I can’t decipher falls over all of us. Doing my best not to overanalyse the moment, I continue to look out the front window. Turning right on to a road called Vermont Avenue we’re greeted with what looks more like a high street, with a post office, independent coffee shop (not just another Starbucks – of which I’ve spotted loads since landing) and even a little book shop which I can’t help but twist my head to get a better view of.

  ‘Trust you to sniff that out,’ Billy whispers in my ear, making me smile.

  Two minutes later the car starts travelling uphill along a winding road. We go higher and higher, past a row of houses with their cars parked outside, and continue to climb. When James slows the car down and waits for some electric gates to open, I’m surprised at the modest appearance of the white-painted home that I can see in the distance, up another steep incline. Not that I thought Billy would be living in some blinged-up mansion, but it’s a little smaller than I’d expected. In fact, now that I think of it, none of the houses on the way up here screamed out in the overly flashy manner that I’ve come to imagine when thinking of LA, but I guess that’s because we’re not over in Beverly Hills, the residential Mecca for Hollywood’s rich and famous.

  Billy grins at me excitedly. ‘What do you think?’ he asks, once we’ve pulled up outside and have started getting out of the car.

  ‘It looks lovely.’

  ‘Wait until you see inside,’ grins Lauren, walking past us and opening the huge wooden front door and heading inside.

  ‘I’ll just grab my suitcase,’ I start to say, turning to the boot of the car before noticing that James has already removed them and is currently taking them through the garage.

  ‘After you,’ Billy smiles, holding his arm out towards the house and waving me inside.

  Walking in, I realize I was completely wrong about the house being small and discreet. It’s actually a flaming TARDIS! Seriously, it’s huge. I suddenly feel like Kate Winslet in The Holiday when she arrives at Cameron Diaz’s mammoth home and can’t quite believe her luck, a comparison that makes me feel extremely giddy.

  Although Billy’s home might appear to be single storey from the front, you actually walk down a swooping staircase into the main section of the building and the space opens up dramatically into a huge living area which leads to further rooms. The size of this room alone is not far off that of the entire floorplan of the childhood home that I still live in with Mum and Billy, and that’s no exaggeration. But, just like Billy’s amazing flat in Hyde Park, it’s been decorated in a way that makes it homely and inviting – just with an extra bit of something to make your jaw drop as soon as you walk in.

  Exposed brick lines the room, adorned with photographs of the family throughout the years (almost the exact same collection that I’ve seen in Billy’s flat but with additions from newer adventures). Chunky and earthy wooden beams run beneath my feet, but it’s not any sort of wooden flooring (and certainly nothing like the kind Mum and I bought from our local DIY store a few years back to lay in the kitchen). No, this actually looks like it’s come directly from a forest – it’s perfectly rugged with every ridge and knot visible, giving it far more depth and beauty. Plush gold and cream sofas gather in a group around a charcoal black-and-biscuit-coloured tapestry rug, on top of which is a coffee table, made of glass and sculptured fanned wood (it looks more like a piece of art than a safe place to rest a mug of tea). Nevertheless, this luxurious area calls to be sat in, especially as it faces out to the main feature of the room – a never-ending black-framed window that stretches along an entire wall, giving the most amazing view of the city spread out in the distance.

  Walking towards it to get a closer look, I spot the swimming pool below and spy Lauren already stripped down to her white bikini sitting on a nearby sun lounger, talking animatedly on her phone. She really was itching to get back out there as soon as she could.

  ‘What do you think?’ asks Billy from behind me.

  ‘Wow,’ I breathe, looking back up to the impressive skyline. ‘Just wow.’

  ‘Indeed,’ laughs Julie, walking past us and heading off into one of the adjoining rooms, which I’m guessing is where everyone congregates if they’re not sprawled out next to the pool.

  ‘I can see exactly why your family like it here,’ I admit.

  ‘If I’m honest I forgot how incredible it all is,’ he laughs, putting his arm around my waist as he stands beside me and looks out in awe.

  ‘Have you missed it?’ I ask, feeling a lump forming in my throat as I wait for his answer, not wanting to hear that he has and hoping he’s not suddenly found himself regretting falling into the modest life he has with me.

  ‘Ask me that again at the end of our stay …’ he says, looking down and winking at me, kissing the top of my head.

  I close my eyes and take comfort from his warmth. We’re a team, that’s something I never find myself doubting any more.

  ‘Come see my room.’

  I can’t help but laugh.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We might live together but hearing you say that in your parents’ home suddenly makes me feel like a naughty teenager doing something wrong.’

  ‘Oh really?’ he asks, raising his eyebrows at me as a cheeky sparkle lights up the brown of his eyes. ‘Is this going to be a problem?’

  ‘No!’ I giggle.

  ‘Good, because it’s my house. I own it,’ he growls playfully, tugging on my arm and pulling me through the lounge towards the hallway, which has another sweeping staircase leading down towards the bedrooms. Unfortunately the doors are all shut, meaning I can’t have a snoop, but the hallway is grand enough. Textured cream wallpaper with flecks of gold covers the walls and half a dozen pieces of artwork are hanging proudly. Down here, it’s all London themed. London buses, red telephone boxes, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, The London Eye – even the British flag, all painted in vibrant, bold colours to show them off in their optimum glory.

  ‘God, I’ve heard about these pieces,’ Billy sighs, stopping to look at the painting of the London bus. The bus itself is in focus, but it’s been painted as though it’s in motion with the lights of Piccadilly Circus and the crowds of people on the streets blurred and streaked around its sharp structure.
‘Mum had an art dealer come to the house. She phoned me up delirious about this collection, saying it made her feel like she had a part of our old home here in LA.’

  ‘That’s sweet.’

  ‘Not really,’ he scoffs with a little eye roll. ‘We’ve never lived in London as a family, I’ve never been on a red bus or made a call in a red telephone box.’

  ‘You’ve not lived!’ I exclaim, thinking of the trips me, Mum and Dad used to make when I was a child into Trafalgar Square, and the fact that there’s still a red telephone box in Rosefont Hill that I’d continued to use until I finally got my first mobile phone a couple of years ago.

  ‘That’s something coming from Sophie May,’ Billy laughs at me, giving my elbow a gentle nudge with his.

  ‘Exactly!’

  ‘Come on,’ Billy says, moving away from the offending paintings and towards the end of the hallway. He opens the last door and takes a deep, satisfied breath as he walks inside with a smile spreading across his face, clearly happy with the room he’s finally reunited with.

  And I’m not surprised.

  Billy’s room is ridiculous. Actually, it’s not a room, it’s basically a flat minus a kitchen with two beaten-up tanned leather sofas creating a lounge area in front of a television, a walk-in wardrobe where his clothes have all been divided into different categories using fancy lighting, an en-suite bathroom that’s triple the size of our single family one at home (complete with two sinks, a hot tub and multi-headed shower), and the biggest four-poster bed I’ve ever seen. Seriously, it’s huge! I’m surprised not to see more of Billy’s personality stamped into the décor, but I guess the majority of his stuff would have been moved to his London flat. Instead, the minimalist cream, gold and black theme from the rest of the house continues throughout.

  Although the room doesn’t need much to be viewed as incredible, the best bit is the two entire walls that mirror the main feature in the lounge upstairs. Floor-to-ceiling windows allow us to get another glimpse of the astounding city view, as well as some glorious greenery to one side, which I’m guessing is Griffith Park as we saw lots of signs for it as we were driven up here.

  ‘Seriously?’ I ask, looking around in awe and comparing it to my own tiny, pink bedroom. ‘Are you joking?’

  ‘Epic, right?’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you’re not trying to play it down.’

  ‘It is just a house, though,’ he says.

  ‘A flipping amazing house.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you have a driver,’ I remind him with a smile, James popping into my head.

  ‘James has been with us since my Halo days,’ he shrugs. ‘Dee has only been with us since we moved in here though.’

  ‘Dee?’

  ‘His wife.’

  ‘Of course, the housekeeper,’ I say, remembering that they live in a modern version of Downton Abbey. I puff out my cheeks and exhale loudly. ‘This is another world.’

  ‘You know, it’s not. Don’t think of it in any other terms than my family and our home. It’s no different to the bricks and mortar that make up your house.’

  ‘Slightly more exuberant maybe … fancier materials.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he smiles, looking bashful, before throwing himself on to his bed and kicking off his shoes.

  ‘But don’t you feel weird about having strangers in your home?’ I ask, scrambling next to him and sighing as my head melts into the insanely soft feather pillows beneath me. It’s as though I’ve literally climbed on to a cloud.

  ‘They’re actually like family,’ Billy states. ‘They even come over for Christmas dinner.’

  ‘Oh … really?’ I ask, surprised at how personal it sounds. ‘I guess it’s just a set up I’m not used to.’

  ‘It might seem odd to you, but it works,’ he says, pulling himself up on one elbow and leaning next to me, his fingertips gently stroking the bare skin on my forearm. ‘It means my mum is chilled out over here and not spending her days cleaning up after the lot of us when she could be out enjoying herself in the sunshine. Life’s too short for that and she did enough of it back in Surrey. It’s my way of giving back after they all changed their lives for me.’

  ‘Fair point,’ I say, smiling up at him. ‘It’s great how everyone has really embraced living here. They all look so happy.’

  ‘Exactly – and nothing matters more in life than making those we love as happy as possible,’ he says, his head lowering, allowing him to place his lips on mine, his kiss gently pulling me closer into him.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ I sigh. ‘It’s a shame about Jay.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ he says, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘I’m surprised he’s not here, but it’s no big deal.’

  ‘You sure?’ I ask, wanting Billy to know he can open up.

  ‘Absolutely. This is going to be a fun trip,’ he whispers.

  ‘It is!’ I agree as my tummy gives a little unexpected somersault.

  ‘Good. Glad you think so, too,’ he says, shifting slightly away and looking directly into my eyes. ‘Promise to just enjoy it for what it is? Don’t go throwing weird meanings on to things or overthinking anything.’

  ‘As if I’d ever do that,’ I smirk, making him laugh.

  ‘Live for now and enjoy it,’ he says, coming closer, his nose nuzzling against my cheek. ‘And don’t forget to talk to me if anything freaks you out.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Just anything.’

  ‘I will,’ I say, wishing I could willingly stop my analytic self comparing our different worlds, and hating the fact the Billy knows exactly how my complex brain works. So what if his family lives in a mansion with a driver and housekeeper; that doesn’t actually change anything. We’re all just humans at the end of the day, milling around in an attempt to do the best we can at this thing called life, right?

  ‘I just need to settle,’ I admit quietly.

  ‘OK,’ he says, giving me another kiss, although this time it lingers a little longer and his hand creeps slowly up my thigh, his thumb slipping under the hem of my top and running along my skin.

  ‘Billy Buskin,’ I start with a giggle, slapping his hand. ‘We can’t …’

  ‘Not my parents’ house,’ he purrs with a grin, eagerly diving over me to lock the bedroom door before bouncing back on to the bed and resuming his position. His lips move to my neck. His gentle, barely-there kisses quickly make my head light with pleasure, as a tingling sensation speeds through my body and instantly throws out all thoughts that aren’t to do with Billy’s mouth.

  I push him off me, my body following his as I straddle my legs either side of him, giving my hips a little playful wiggle, making Billy smile, his eyes sparkling at me as a hungry look flashes across his face.

  ‘Don’t try telling me you weren’t even tempted by the mile high club,’ he murmurs, licking his lips, his hands grabbing hold of my bum.

  A giggle escapes from my mouth as I pull my t-shirt up over my head and swiftly unhook my bra.

  4

  My eyes are heavy and my head is groggy as I force myself out of sleep. Daylight is flooding through the windows, telling me I shouldn’t be snoozing, that I should be up and awake. Yes, it’s the middle of the day, no matter how much my body wants to protest against that fact and would love to cosily drift back to my dreams.

  I know I shouldn’t have napped. So many people warned me to stay up and live on LA-time straight upon landing so that my body adjusts quicker. That was what I’d intended to do, so I don’t even know how it happened.

  I’m surprised Billy didn’t wake me.

  Saying that, I feel so knackered still that I’m sure I’ll sleep through tonight anyway. Well, as long as jetlag doesn’t chase me down to steal my dreaming hours: I need the sleep.

  I sit up and painfully force myself out of Billy’s comfortable bed with a groan as I wonder where he’s gone. Throwing my discarded t-shirt back on, I take a proper look around his amazing room. It
feels so surreal to be here in this lavish home, mostly because I know Billy to be incredibly grounded, down to earth and not in the least bit superficial. The character profile that I have on him doesn’t fit this house, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It just shows that he’s unaffected by the wealth of Hollywood. And I completely agree with what Billy said, it’s just a bunch of bricks and cement … a bunch of bricks and cement that (once I push my worries aside) I’m going to love staying in for two whole weeks.

  Hearing a noise outside, I go to the window and look out to the pool. Splashing about are Billy and Lauren. I watch as they wrestle in the water and challenge each other to swim underneath for as long as possible without catching a breath. There are some games you’re never too old for.

  I must have been watching for five minutes, totally absorbed in their fun when Billy spots me and waves frantically, beckoning me to join them.

  I hold my hands out to the side and shrug, reminding him that I’ve no idea how to get out there and watch as Lauren hops out of the pool, grabs a towel and heads towards the house. Clearly coming to get me.

  Leaving the window, it occurs to me that I also have no idea where my suitcase full of clothes is, but quickly spot a pair of my well-worn jeans hanging in the dressing room along with the rest of my clothes which have been expertly hung up and displayed in a perfectly organized fashion. I don’t know when Dee managed it, but I’m surprised when it sends a flurry of excitement through me. Perhaps Billy’s right. Just being able to exist and enjoy life might be quite lovely. Although, when I spot my knickers all neatly folded and piled up I do experience a slight knot in my stomach at the thought of someone else handling them and spotting the embarrassing holes and faded colours of them all. I’ve been meaning to get some more but it’s been so chaotic with the shop and the run-up to Christmas that I just haven’t had a chance. Having said that, I should probably ditch the lot and buy something a bit nicer for Billy to look at anyway – though he doesn’t usually seem at all interested in what’s covering up the bits he wants to get to. They’re just a hindrance to him that he can’t tear off quickly enough.