Phoebe
I couldn’t believe how well behaved the boys had been while I’d been on set, but I also couldn’t believe that Mr. Rodrigo had allowed them to watch. I’d heard from a friend of mine, who’d done a film with him in Australia, that he was laid back and extremely approachable, but never expected him to agree to have two six-year-old tearaways on set.
“Dick was amaaaazing when he was fighting,” Mack cried excitedly, as we walked towards the bus stop. “Did you see him hit that man with the big scar?”
“Yeah, and when that other man went to punch him, and he picked up the table and put it in front of him and the man got his fist stuck in it.”
“Awesome.”
Callum and Mack were buzzing and so happy, I just hoped that Beth’s day had gone just as well as theirs. I don’t know what all of us would do if it turned out to be bad news. She was the glue that kept us together, the one who chivvied me along when I thought about quitting and getting a proper job, the one who the boys adored. We’d all be devastated if anything happened to her, but I wasn’t sure the boys would ever get over it. She was their only parent, because Steven sending a few quid every now and again certainly didn’t constitute parenting.
My heart thudded rapidly at the thought of the boys having to go to Steven. Not a chance would I let that happen. I’d fight tooth and nail to keep them. Not that he’d want them anyway. Two small boys did not fit in with the lifestyle of holidays, expensive cars, and designer clothes- that he was evidently leading with Miss Cock Sucker – according to his numerous social media accounts, which Beth and I stalked when we were pissed on cheap white wine.
As Mack karate chopped Callum, I pushed the dark thoughts from my head and plonked myself down on the bench seat under the bus shelter.
“Boys,” I called, “stop Kung-Fu-fighting and come and sit down. The bus will be here soon.”
“What’s Kung-Fu-fighting?” Callum asked, his cheeks rosy red from the exertion of battling with his brother.
“What you were just doing.”
“No we weren’t,” Mack said breathlessly. “We were doing unarmed combat. I’m Addison Yates and Callum is the big, ugly, bad guy.”
“Why am I him? You’ve been Addison for ages. It’s my turn to be Addison now.”
“It’s my game,” Mack protested. “You should have thought of it if you wanted to be Addison.”
I took a deep breath and counted to five – they might well have killed each other by the time I got to ten.
“Okay boys, enough of that game now, but next time you play it, Callum is Addison. Okay?”
Both looked at me with a frown. Their little brows pinched and cupid bow lips pouting. They were so damn cute, I dragged them both into a hug.
“I love you two,” I sighed, inhaling in their scent of fresh air and baby shampoo that Beth still used on them.
The boys squirmed a little and while Mack pulled away, Callum, the one who always loved a cuddle, gave me a little squeeze before following his brother.
“When will the bus be here?” Callum asked, pushing himself up on to the bench next to me.
“Not long, ten minutes,” I lied.
We’d missed a bus by five minutes and there wouldn’t be another for a half hour. The boys, however, did not need to know that.
“I’m hungry,” Mack groaned, leaning his head against the grubby Perspex of the shelter.
“I’m thirsty.” Callum decided to join in.
“Well, I don’t have any food or drink on me, so you’ll just have to wait until we get to the railway station.”
“Can we have a burger?” Callum cried excitedly.
“No. You had burgers at lunch. In any case, your mum might have made something by the time we get back.”
“Can’t you text and ask her?” Callum asked. “She might say we can have burgers.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to text Beth again. I’d sent one earlier telling her I’d pick the boys up from Wendy’s on my way home – I didn’t want to remind her that Wendy was away and she’d forgotten, it would only make her feel bad, and I didn’t want her to. I was putting off another text because I was scared that this time I’d get more back than an ‘Okay, thanks’ as I had earlier. What if she gave me bad news? I knew she probably wouldn’t have any results yet, but it still worried me. What if they had noticed something and taken her in straight away – yes, logically I knew she’d have called me if that was the case, but fear still tapped at my breast bone.
“You’re not having another burger. I’ll get you a cereal bar and some juice.”
Callum and Mack pulled identical faces – tongues out and eyes crossed.
“G-r-oss,” Mack complained.
“Tough, that’s my final offer.”
I heaved a sigh and pulled my phone out of my bag, contemplating again on whether to call Beth or not. Before I decided, I flicked through a couple of emails and a text message from my service provider offering me more data. Okay, I was putting it off, but what was wrong with that.
“Auntie Peepee,” Callum hissed, pulling on my sleeve. “Look.”
“What?” I asked, looking up.
Stopped at the side of the road was a huge, black, four by four. It had blacked out windows and black alloyed wheels – it was big and sexy and looked extremely expensive. As I admired it, the back window slowly whirred down, to reveal the handsome, tanned face of Grantley James.
“Woah,” Mack cried, running towards the car. “It’s Dick. Hey, Dick.”
I cringed as Grantley stuck his head further through the window and looked directly at me.
“Boys,” he said, addressing Mack and Callum, finally taking his eyes off me. “Did you enjoy yourselves today?”
“It was so cool,” Callum cried, excitedly. “When you punched that big man, it was amazing.”
“I liked the fire too,” Mack added, jumping up and down on the spot. “It went, whoosh.”
Mack threw his arms up into the air, demonstrating the licking of flames. I glanced at Grantley and noticed a warm smile spread across his face, as he listened intently to the boys.
“Well it sure sounds like you enjoyed it a lot.”
“Oh we did, Dick. Didn’t we Mack?”
Mack nodded enthusiastically and stepped forward next to Callum and, standing on tiptoe, tried to peer through the blacked out windows.
“Mack,” I warned. “Don’t be rude.”
“It’s fine.” Grantley laughed. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
He looked directly at me again and gave me a small chin lift.
“We’re waiting for the bus to the railway station,” I replied, glancing over my shoulder at the bus shelter.
“You have to get a bus and a train to get here?”
“Yep. But it’s no biggie, lots of people have much worse journeys to work.”
“But you did that journey with the boys too?”
I nodded. “Yep. They didn’t mind though did you boys?”
The boys ignored me, now too interested in the good looking black guy in the driver’s seat, who had opened the passenger door and was letting Mack and Callum have a look inside.
“I think they’re more interested in your car.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sorry, they’re not normally so easily distracted. Usually I can bring them to heel with a whistle and get them to beg with a click of my fingers.”
Grantley’s lips twitched and then he let out a quiet laugh. “They’re well behaved kids, their parents must be proud of them.”
I glanced at the twin trouble. “Beth, my sister, their mum is, but their father is absent and has been since they were a year old. They’re all down to Beth.”
“Their mom has brought them up alone all that time?” Grantley looked at them anxiously with his brow furrowed.
“Pretty much. I moved in about four years ago, and help out where I can, but it was just Beth before that. She’s pretty amazing to be honest.”
A lump formed in my throat, as I thought about Beth and what she might be about to face. No one deserved cancer, but Beth had worked so hard to provide a good home for the boys, it seemed even more unjust.
“What, their dad just up and left?” Grantley asked. His nostrils flared a little as he clenched his jaw. “And he’s never been back since?”
I shook my head, a little taken aback at his evident anger over the boys’ and Beth’s situation.
“We do okay though,” I replied, feeling the need to explain and to calm Grantley’s ire.
His head suddenly disappeared and the man talking to the boys, leaned between the two front seats. After a few seconds, the rear passenger door opened.
“Come on,” he beckoned with the tilt of his head. “Get in, we’ll give you a lift home.”
“It’s really not necessary.”
“Woah cool,” Callum shouted. “Can I sit in the front?”
“No, I want to sit in the front.”
“I asked first.”
“Please Callum,” Mack whined.
Callum, the first born by twenty minutes, shook his head and rooted himself in the car doorway, arms firmly planted across his chest confirming his stature as the eldest.
“Boys, I didn’t even say we were going in Mr. James’ car. The bus will be here soon.”
“We’re giving you a lift and that’s final.” Grantley growled and then turned to pick up, what looked like scripts, which were spread across the back seat.
“Really, it’s not necessary,” I sighed.
“I said we’re taking you all home.”
Grantley stepped out of the car with a pile of papers under his arm and moved to the open passenger door where the boys were having a stand-off. Callum wasn’t budging from his spot, but Mack was determined, trying to pull him away by his arm.
“Okay guys,” Grantley said breezily. “To save any arguments, I’m gonna ride shot-gun and you both can sit in the back with your aunt.”
“But-.”
“No arguments, Cal,” Grantley replied, shocking me that he knew which twin was which. “In any case, I think you’ll be pleased when you see the DVD player in the back. There’s already a Marvel film loaded up and ready to press play on.”
Callum almost bowled Mack over as he ran and flung himself up the high step-up into the car, sprawling across the back seat.
“Callum,” I admonished, glancing warily at Grantley. “I’m so sorry. I’ll pay if he’s scratched the leather or anything else.”
Grantley gave me a small smile. It was tiny in fact, a simple twitch of his lips at the sides, but pure amusement glittered in his pale green eyes.
“What’s so funny?”
“You really think I care about some scratched leather in a rented car?”
“You will if you have to pay for it.” I pointed at the seat, which now Callum and also Mack were sitting on and bouncing up and down. “Boys, stop it.”
“They’re fine,” Grantley said softly, ushering me to the door. “Now get in and we’ll get you home.”
“Honestly-.”
“Please just get in the damn car,” he sighed.
“But it’s probably miles out of your way. It will take you almost an hour to get there.”
“Barney doesn’t mind, do you?”
Grantley leaned down to peer inside the car, flashing a grin at the driver, Barney.
“Nope, call it my good deed for the day.” His voice was deep and rich and images of him serenading someone with a sexy love song while he gyrated around them sprung into my mind.
I really did watch too many music videos.
I sighed deeply and looked down the road, wishing for the bus to suddenly appear. Although how I’d get the boys out of that damn car if it did, I had no idea. I was about to succumb when I spotted Declan running towards us.
“It hasn’t gone yet, has it?” he huffed, pulling his bag higher onto his shoulder.
“Not yet,” I replied as a red-faced, puffing Declan ran up beside me.
With his chest heaving, Declan looked between myself and Grantley, his mouth dropping another inch with each little bit of realisation that I was talking to a Hollywood star, and my nephews were sitting in the back seat of said star’s car.
“Oh,” he said before snapping his mouth shut.
“Hi,” Grantley said, giving Declan a tight smile.
“Mr. James,” Declan simpered. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Declan Johnson. I’m an extra on the film alongside Phoebe.”
Declan held out his hand to Grantley, who took it and shook it firmly.
“As in prick.”
I gasped and snapped my eyes up to Grantley’s that were surveying Declan’s face intently.
“I’m s-sorry,” Declan stammered.
“Johnson,” Grantley said with an even tone. “It’s what we Americans call a prick, a dick. We call it a Johnson.”
Declan visibly sagged at the realisation that Grantley wasn’t, in fact, insulting him. Although, the way Grantley was perusing him I wasn’t so sure.
“Do you need glasses?” Grantley snapped, closing the gap between him and Declan.
“I-I don’t think so,” Declan stammered, looking a little perplexed. “Why?”
“I just thought you might,” Grantley replied, flicking some dandruff off Declan’s shoulder. “Seeing as you kind of look at Phoebe’s chest more than her face.”
“Grantley.” I gasped. “That’s not…”
I was going to deny that was the case, but it was actually true. Declan’s eyes rarely moved higher than my knockers if there was any part of them on show. Actually, come to think of it, he pretty much stared at them the whole time. I’d played one of several nuns once and he was one of several priests and he still managed to give them a good once over – more than once.
“I can assure you, I would never objectify Phoebe like that,” Declan protested.
Grantley slapped a big hand on Declan’s shoulder and gave him a tight smile. “Good to hear it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get Phoebe and both the boys home.”
I was pretty sure the look of astonishment on my face matched that of Declan.
“Seriously, Grantley, I can get the bus and train.”
“No arguments. The boys have already started to watch a film, so get in.” Grantley shouldered Declan out of the way, to give me room.
“Hey, Grant,” Barney called from the depths of the car. “We should get going man, you’ve got that thing tonight.”
“Okay, Barney.” Grantley turned to Declan. “Great to meet you, Johnson. Now, Phoebe get in.”
Knowing I had very little choice and giving Grantley a look that I hoped, but doubted, evoked fear in him, I got into the car and sat next to the boys.
Grantley got in and as soon as his door was closed, Barney moved away from the curb and sped away. I looked over my shoulder to see Declan watching us, shock written all over his face.
“You okay back there?” Barney asked, giving us a quick glance in the rear-view mirror.
The boys, engrossed in the film, where I spotted Scarlett Johansson running alongside the Incredible Hulk amongst other people, failed to answer.
“We’re great, thank you.” I answered for us all.
“No problemo. Now, you wanna give me the deets of your address and I’ll get you guys home.”
I gave my post code to Barney, who keyed them into the in-car Sat Nav and sat back into the soft cream leather.
“You okay if I work?” Grantley asked from the front seat.
“God yes, that’s fine,” I gushed. “Please don’t let us stop you. It’s really very good of you to do this. It really wasn’t necessary.”
“Please,” he sighed. “Stop thanking me and sit back and enjoy the journey home without hundreds of other people stepping on your toes, or pushing into your back – or even that bearded prick we just left, looking where he shouldn’t.”
I glanced at the boys, both were enthralled, so they hadn’t heard Grantley call Declan a prick. Not that he wasn’t, he truly was, but the boys didn’t need to hear that sort of thing.
“How did you know he’s always looking where he shouldn’t?” I asked, interested to know.
“I saw him today,” he replied, reaching into his pocket. “He was looking at your cleavage during the dinner party scene.”
Ugh, he really is a dirty, creepy bastard.
“Nothing new there I’m afraid,” I replied.
“Seriously?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yep. He does it all the time.”
Grantley turned to look at me and was now wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses. Those, paired with the rings and thin leather bracelet he must have put on after filming, well, he looked – shit, how to describe what he looked like.
Hot.
Sexy.
Gorgeous.
And did I say hot?
And yep, they suited him because newsflash, he didn’t really have a fat head.
“Yeah,” he said, rousing me from my thoughts. “He most definitely has the right name.”
He then turned back to his scripts and left me wondering whether I’d wet my knickers when we went over a speed bump a few seconds earlier, or I was one more woman not immune to Grantley James’ charm and horny as hell spectacles.