Bound by Ivy Read online

  ‘I should hope so.’

  I twiddle my hair. ‘You’re going to make it your business to love anything I love?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘And what about like? Will you like everything I like?’

  ‘Perhaps. What did you have in mind?’

  ‘Leo Falkirk.’

  The smile leaves Marc’s face. ‘I suppose miracles can happen.’

  ‘I wish the two of you could get along.’

  Marc gives a little laugh. ‘He’s got a lot of growing up to do before that will happen.’

  *****

  After we drop the shopping off in the limo, Marc takes me to Fortnum and Mason – the giant and very expensive department store on Piccadilly.

  The whole place is decorated with clear glass baubles hanging from lilac ribbons. The store smells amazing – like apples and lemons, and some exotic spicy perfume.

  ‘I thought this might be a good place to buy Jen a present,’ says Marc. ‘And Genoveva. If that’s still appropriate.’

  ‘You’re going to buy Jen a present?’ I say. ‘That’s so thoughtful. She’d probably love anything from this store – even a key ring. And Genoveva would too. But ... well you know about the family situation right now.

  ‘I don’t want to be petty or anything by not getting Sammy’s mum a present, but I don’t want to upset Dad either. How about we get her something, but don’t label it? That way, if she turns up to see Sammy, we’ll have something for her. But Dad won’t notice the present and get all gloomy.’

  ‘If you think that’s the right thing to do.’

  We’re not in the store for more than a minute before a man in a tailored black suit heads towards us.

  ‘Mr Blackwell. Apologies. We weren’t told you’d be visiting us today. I’m so sorry there was no one to greet you. May I assist you with your shopping?’

  ‘No apology needed,’ says Marc. ‘This was an unplanned visit. But yes, some assistance would be good.’

  The man nods, and moves discreetly behind us.

  I notice some of the shoppers are staring at Marc as we walk through the store. They nudge each other and whisper, ‘Is it? It looks like him, but … and the girl with him, in the newspapers …’

  I keep my head down and stick close to Marc.

  ‘People are staring at us,’ I say.

  ‘You’ll get used to it,’ says Marc.

  ‘Will I?’

  ‘Yes. And don’t worry. There are security all around.’

  ‘There are?’ I look around the store, but see no one from Marc’s team.

  ‘In plain clothes. They’ve been following us all day.’

  ‘Oh.’ I think about the kiss we shared in the market, and me snuggling against Marc’s body as we walked around the cold winter streets. ‘That’s sort of embarrassing.’

  ‘Embarrassing?’

  ‘You know. That they were watching us. Being together.’

  ‘Sophia, if you want to have a successful career as an actress, your private life will be on show to a certain extent. To more than just security guards.’

  ‘I guess I’d better get used to it.’

  ‘You will,’ Marc assures me. ‘Sooner than you think.’ He waves a hand around the store. ‘What do you think Jen would like?’

  I walk towards a gorgeous 1930s style tea set, painted mint green and decorated with gold leaf fleur-de-lys. ‘She’d love this.’ I hold up one of the cups to the light, and see the shadow of my fingers through the fine china. ‘It’s bone china.’

  Marc comes to stand beside me. ‘You’re an expert in china, Miss Rose?’

  I smile at him. ‘Not exactly. But my grandmother had a bone china tea set, and she taught me how to tell bone china from the regular kind.’

  ‘Hidden talents.’

  ‘You’re one to talk.’

  Marc signals for the assistant, and he takes away the tea set to be wrapped.

  ‘That was the easy part,’ I say. ‘Now Genoveva.’

  I spy a stand wrapped with beautiful chiffon scarves and walk over to it. ‘She really likes scarves. She wears them all the time.’ I pluck out one covered in white doves. ‘Doves mean peace, don’t they? That’s what we all need as far as Genoveva is concerned.’

  Marc signals the assistant again, and the scarf is removed, wrapped and bagged.

  ‘Is there anyone else I need to buy for?’ Marc asks me. ‘Any long lost cousins or sisters?’

  ‘No. We’re a small family now my grandparents have passed away. It’ll just be me, you, Dad and Sammy on Christmas day. And Jen in the afternoon.’ I think about that. ‘It’s going to be weird without Genoveva. Well, weird for Dad anyway. Especially if you and I are all lovey dovey.’

  ‘Is that how you’d describe us?’

  ‘How would you describe us?’ I ask.

  Marc turns so he’s facing me, and when his blue eyes fix on mine I feel like we’re the only two people in the whole world.

  ‘I would describe us as totally, obsessively in love,’ he says, his voice lowering to that tone that makes my stomach tighten.

  I gaze up at him, lost in his eyes and his words. Marc makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. There are times when I feel like I’ve become a part of him and he a part of me.

  His hands reach out and find mine, and we stand right in the middle of the department store, looking into each other’s eyes. He was right. I am getting used to being on show.

  ‘Come on.’ Marc leads me towards a counter, where the assistant is waiting with our purchases. ‘I have plans for you this afternoon.’

  As we leave the store, I think about Dad, all on his own this year, and how lonely he’ll be with just a couple for company. This is the first year I’ve ever brought a boyfriend home. Typical that it had to be the year that Dad ends up on his own.

  ‘Marc,’ I say, as we walk down Piccadilly. ‘You know what Peter was saying earlier? About Denise living alone right now. Do you think she’d like to come over for Christmas? It might make Dad feel a little less like a third wheel if there’s someone nearer his age there. And it’s great to have lots of people over at Christmas.’

  Marc frowns. ‘She usually arranges to go away over Christmas. But I could ask.’

  ‘Would you?’ I hesitate. ‘And what about your sister? What will she be doing at Christmas? Would she like to come over? I’d love to see her.’

  ‘She’ll still be in hospital,’ says Marc.

  ‘Oh.’ I look ahead at the wide, icy pavement. ‘I’m glad she’s getting better, but I’m really sorry I won’t see her. Christmas in our house seems to get smaller every year. I would have loved to have some of your family over.’

  ‘She’s making vast improvements. And pretty soon she’ll be allowed visitors.’

  ‘Great.’ I look around. ‘So. Where are you taking me?’

  ‘Just wait and see.’

  27

  We spend the rest of the afternoon ice skating at Marble Arch, drinking champagne cocktails at Park Lane and eating spaghetti at a quiet Italian restaurant hidden away in the narrow streets of Covent Garden.

  When Marc drops me off at the theatre, I don’t want to leave him, even to perform. But I know I have to. And I also know that tomorrow I’ll get to spend all of Christmas day with him.

  Wow. That’s going to feel very surreal. But very nice.

  The performance is fun, but it feels long, and when it’s finally over I’m hoping to see Marc waiting in the wings. But he’s not there, and I’m confused.

  Didn’t he say he was going to come to the cottage with me on Christmas Eve? Did I get that wrong?

  I head to my dressing room and check my phone, but there are no messages. I’m so disappointed not to see Marc that I barely hear the knock on the dressing room door.

  ‘Is there a leading lady in there?’ calls Leo.

  ‘Coming,’ I say distractedly, pulling on my jeans and sweater. I yank the door open.

  Leo’s elbow is resting against the
door frame, one of his knees a little bent.

  ‘Great show tonight,’ he says. ‘No Marc?’

  ‘I thought he was coming,’ I say. ‘But ... I don’t know where he is.’

  ‘I came to offer season’s greetings,’ says Leo, holding up a sprig of mistletoe. ‘I’m flying out to LA in an hour’s time. I’ll be back, but I couldn’t go without saying happy Christmas.’ He leans forwards and kisses me on the check.

  His lips remain on my skin just a little longer than they need to.

  ‘Happy Christmas Leo,’ I say. ‘Love to your family.’

  ‘Yours too. Hey. Sophia?’

  ‘Yes Leo?’

  ‘Have fun.’

  *****

  A security guard walks me to the stage door, and I find the limo waiting outside. I feel another heave of disappointment when I notice Marc isn’t by the car.

  ‘Hey Keith,’ I say, climbing into the passenger seat. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Good,’ says Keith. ‘Looking forward to Christmas tomorrow. Um. Sophia, you might want to hop in the back tonight.’

  ‘Why? I like talking to you when we drive.’

  ‘Just ... jump out and have a look in the back of the car.’

  ‘O-kay,’ I say, climbing out of the vehicle. ‘What’s going on?’

  Keith doesn’t answer.

  *****

  I go to the back door, my heart beating fast. I like surprises, but where Marc Blackwell is concerned, I have no clue just what sort of surprise I might be getting.

  When I open the limo door, I close my eyes, readying myself. When I open my eyes, I find myself letting out a long breath and an even longer, ‘Oooo.’

  The back of the car is stuffed with mistletoe. It hangs from every corner – the most beautiful icy green in colour, its round white berries glowing under the moonlight. And under all that mistletoe is the most beautiful thing of all.

  Marc.

  I dive into the car and throw myself into his arms. ‘I thought you weren’t coming,’ I say. ‘When you weren’t waiting in the wings.’

  ‘I wanted to be there,’ says Marc. ‘But I had a few last minute surprises to arrange. For tomorrow. Keith and I have only just arrived.’

  ‘More surprises …’

  ‘You’ll like them. I promise.’

  28

  We spend the drive to Dad’s cottage wrapped up in each other’s arms. But when we arrive at my old village, Marc becomes more upright and alert, gripping me tight and watching the streets.

  When we reach Dad’s cottage, Marc won’t let me leave the limo until he checks the surrounding area. Finally he lets me out, but insists I walk close to him all the way to the front door.

  ‘Do I have something to be nervous about?’ I whisper, giving the door a soft knock.

  ‘You have nothing to be nervous about. I’m the one who needs to be nervous. And alert.’

  When Dad opens the door, he doesn’t quite manage to disguise his discomfort at seeing Marc. But he’s welcoming enough, calling us inside and asking Marc if he’d like a drink.

  The house is still pretty tidy, and I’m guessing Sammy must be fast asleep upstairs because I can’t hear him.

  ‘Is Sammy okay?’ I ask.

  ‘Fine,’ says Dad. He’s wearing his dressing gown and pulls the cord tighter. ‘Ate everything you left for him and went to bed nice and early.’

  I go to the fireplace. ‘No carrot for Rudolph?’ I say, looking at the empty grate.

  ‘I didn’t do all that stuff this year,’ says Dad tiredly. ‘Sammy’s a little young and I’m a little old.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ I say.

  ‘I’ll leave you two to settle in. See you in the morning.’ Dad clumps upstairs.

  ‘You’re going to bed already?’

  ‘I’m liking my early nights right now.’

  ‘Okay. Sleep well.’ At least he’s not sleeping in his clothes tonight.

  ‘So.’ I turn to Marc, a little dizzy to see him in my family cottage again. It seems so unreal. And to have him staying over – this big Hollywood star in our little place. It’s very different from his townhouse. No en suites. No staff. ‘Here we are. At my house.’

  ‘I like seeing this part of you,’ says Marc softly. ‘We should go upstairs. You need to sleep.’

  ‘Okay.’ I take his hand. ‘What about you? Won’t you be sleeping?’

  ‘I want to stay awake for a while. Keep guard. With the two of us here … I want to be extra safe.’

  ‘Marc, you’re making me nervous.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ Marc kisses my forehead. ‘It’s just me being ultra cautious.’

  The two of us climb the stairs, and I show Marc the guest bedroom. It’s supposed to be a double room, but it’s a really small double, so the bed is barely big enough for two. There’s a dresser in the corner and an easy chair.

  I notice that Dad has piled up my bags by the dresser, and I see an unfamiliar black bag, which I’m guessing must belong to Marc.

  ‘I can keep watch in that chair,’ says Marc. ‘If I lie next to you … let’s just say I may get distracted.’

  I sit on the bed. ‘You’re really going to spend the night upright in that chair, rather than in the bed next to me?’

  ‘Yes. I need to be alert.’

  ‘God Marc, now you really are making me nervous.’ I glance at the window and the black night sky. ‘Sammy’s in the next room. Is it safe us being here?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Marc. ‘I just don’t believe in taking any chances. Get into bed Sophia. Get some rest. I want you to enjoy tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say, pulling off my shoes. But inside I feel uneasy. I know Marc would never do anything to put Sammy in danger. But why won’t he tell me what this is all about?

  After Christmas. That’s what he said. Just enjoy Christmas. And trust that Marc has your best interests at heart.

  29

  When I wake up the next morning, I see Marc sitting bolt upright in the chair opposite.

  He smiles as my eyes open.

  ‘Happy Christmas Sophia.’

  I feel that stillness that always flows around on Christmas morning. The whole world feels quiet, and there’s magic in the air.

  ‘Happy Christmas Marc.’ I rub my eyes and sit up. ‘Did you sleep?’

  ‘A little. You did. Soundly. I love watching you sleep.’

  I slide myself out of bed and go to sit on his lap. He wraps his arms around me. Marc being here is the best Christmas present ever.

  ‘Where you in that chair all night?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I kiss him fully on the lips. ‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ I whisper. ‘It’s kind of weird, though. Waking up to see you in my old home.’

  ‘Good weird?’

  ‘Good weird.’ I stretch my arms, stand up and pull him up out of the chair. ‘Come on. Let’s get cleaned up and then I can make breakfast.’

  ‘You don’t want to open your present?’ says Marc, going to the black bag in the corner.

  ‘Oh no Mr Blackwell.’ I shake a finger at him. ‘In our family, we don’t open our presents until after the Christmas dinner. That makes the day last just a little bit longer.’

  Marc smiles. ‘It’s good to know that you can exercise that sort of patience.’

  ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me Mr Blackwell,’ I say, mimicking his words to me yesterday.

  ‘And a lot I can’t wait to find out. Well. If I have to wait until after Christmas dinner to give you your present, it’s lucky I have a few surprises lined up before then. Let’s go downstairs. There’s a surprise waiting for you there.’

  *****

  With Sammy and Dad still sleep, I creep downstairs, pulling Marc behind me.

  ‘Slow down Sophia,’ says Marc. ‘You’re going to fall down the stairs.’

  ‘I’m too excited to slow down,’ I whisper back.

  ‘The surprise is in the lounge,’ says Marc, squeezing my fingers.

  I pu
ll Marc into the lounge area, and then stop dead, staring.

  ‘Oh, Marc.’

  In the corner of the lounge is the most amazing Christmas tree, with gorgeous thick feathery fir branches. It looks like it’s been plucked straight out of the forests of Norway.

  The branches hang with hand-painted wooden holly leaves and delicate baubles painted with 1950s Christmas scenes.

  ‘How did you do this?’ I breathe, taking a step forwards and feeling the thick green branches of the tree between my fingers.

  ‘While you were at the theatre. Hence my late arrival. The security team helped me decorate it.’

  I give a little laugh at the idea of Marc and his team creeping around in the dead of night, hanging Christmas decorations.

  ‘I can’t believe you did all this,’ I say, still staring.

  ‘You like it?’ Marc asks.

  ‘I love it. And Sammy’s going to love it too.’

  As if on cue, there’s a little choked cry from upstairs.

  I smile at Marc. ‘I’ll go get Sammy up. And Dad. Then I’ll make us all breakfast.’

  30

  For Christmas breakfast, I make pancakes with winter cherries and flaming brandy sauce. I serve them with whipped cream and fresh coffee.

  Dad is as surprised as I am by the tree, and I can tell he’s secretly happy. He loves Christmas almost as much as I do.

  My dad is wary of Marc over breakfast, but the two of them manage a stilted conversation about the roads around the village, and their mutual love of cars. Dad isn’t being all that talkative, but Marc does his best.

  When breakfast is finished, Dad stands up.

  ‘I’ve got a big apology to make to the two of you.’

  ‘You have?’ I sit up straighter, thinking that maybe Dad is seeing sense about Marc and I getting married.

  Dad clears his throat. ‘Yes. You might be wondering why I didn’t bring any Christmas presents downstairs. Well, look I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I didn’t manage to go Christmas shopping this year. I’ve spent so much time moping that I’ve forgotten there are other people in the world apart from me. But that changes. As of now.

  ‘I’m going to stop thinking of myself and my heartache, and start thinking about everyone else again. And I just hope the two of you can forgive me for being so thoughtless.’