Page 8 of Hollywood Games
Fiona glugged more wine and snuggled deeper into the chair with a happy sigh. ‘Oh no, this is payback for all the annoying things he did when we were kids, starting with being born.’
Half an hour later, Morag sashayed into the living room to announce that dinner was served. They moved into the dining room, Jamie looking like he would rather be carving up his mum than the roast. Despite the previous sounds of catastrophe, the table was groaning with food and Zoe’s mouth watered. They sat down and held hands.
‘Dear you upstairs,’ Morag began. ‘Bless this family and bless this meal. Thank you for last year and thanks in advance for making this new one even better. Please make this the year that our Jamie finds true love, so he can get out from under my feet, and if you can’t work miracles then please teach him how to load the dishwasher properly, and how to separate whites from darks in the laundry.’
Zoe sneaked a peek at Jamie. He caught her glance and shook his head in sufferance while Fiona and Duncan bit back smirks.
‘Please look after Rory, and do some of your divine interventioning thingumy for the castle, as it could do with a bit of help right now. And if you’ve any more gifts to share, don’t forget to make Liam’s first word “Nana”. Thank you, and Amen.’
They squeezed hands, then let go. Jamie started carving the huge beef rib joint, and everyone else tucked into the side dishes. Morag was a happy drunk. When she wasn’t eating she was singing or laughing, and her mood was infectious. Liam banged his spoon and kicked his legs with excitement, and it only took a couple of minutes for Jamie’s good humour to return. When they couldn’t fit any more food into their bellies, they carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen and Jamie and Duncan washed up, insisting the ‘coven’ go to the living room and get out of their way.
Fiona carried Liam upstairs for a nap and Zoe collapsed gratefully into a corner of the sofa whilst Morag shut the door.
‘Perfect timing,’ she whispered at Zoe. Morag looked around furtively, then brought out a large, thin, square package wrapped in tartan paper, and gave it to her. ‘I wanted to give you this without any of the boys around. I don’t want them getting jealous.’ She winked theatrically at Zoe. ‘Go on, love, open it! You’re in for a treat.’
Zoe tentatively tore the paper off to reveal a calendar. A calendar devoted to celebrating the physique of Hollywood megastar, Brad Bauer. Her cheeks flushed. ‘Morag! You can’t give me this.’
‘Aye, yes I can. I’ve got one too, hangs right by my bed.’ She sat down with a thump next to Zoe. ‘Check out each month, love, June’s my favourite, it’s sizzling!’
Zoe looked through the calendar, every page revealing a little more, until December when he was wearing a bobble hat and nothing else. Brad Bauer was one of the most powerful men in Hollywood. An Oscar-winning actor, director and producer, whose films made hundreds of millions of dollars. He’d been Zoe’s first crush, and posters of him had adorned her walls when she was growing up. Until Rory had come along, she’d always held Brad as the gold standard for hot men, and most of her teenage fantasies had involved him in some way.
Two months ago, Brad had done an interview and photoshoot forVanity Fair, declaring his Scottish ancestry and his wish to make a sequel toBraveheart. The photos were filthy, and featured him draped across a bed, his chiselled form barely covered by a length of tartan fabric. Zoe had used them as inspiration for the photos she’d taken of Rory in the castle, not knowing quite how much Rory despised the star.
‘Oh, Zoe, check out that braw man, eh?’ mooned Morag. The door opened suddenly and Fiona came in. Zoe hastily closed the calendar and looked at her friend, guiltily.
‘Mum! You promised you wouldn’t. How’s Zoe meant to hide that at the cabin?’
‘Ah, it’s only a bit of fun, love. Rory can’t get jealous over a bit of paper.’
‘Mum, you know what he’s gone through.’ Fiona turned to Zoe. ‘Do you really want to take that back and stick it anywhere, except the firebox of the Rayburn?’
Zoe’s cheeks reddened even further. ‘I appreciate it, Morag, but I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.’
‘Och, no matter, I’ll keep this one and hang it at the end of the bath,’ replied Morag breezily.
‘Mum!’ exclaimed Fiona.
Jamie poked his head around the door and Morag covered the calendar with a cushion. ‘Hey, Zo, Rory’s here for you.’
Zoe leapt up and looked at Morag. ‘Go on, love, Rory will never again have to cast his eyes upon the wonder that is Mr Bradley Bauer.’
Zoe smiled gratefully and walked into the kitchen. Jamie and Duncan left to give them privacy and shut the door behind them.
Her tummy flip flopped with excitement, but then it knotted. Something was wrong. Rory reached out to hold her tightly in his arms. He was cold, his coat smelling of woodsmoke and winter. ‘How bad is it?’
He sat down, pulling her onto his lap. ‘I’ve seen bomb sites in better condition.’ He rested his forehead on her shoulder. ‘It’s going to take me all night, if not longer, just to clear the floor. Then I’ve got to rig a tarp over the outside to try and keep the weather off. Shit, Zoe, it’s more of a mess than I am.’
She kissed into his hair. ‘I’ll help.’
He shook his head. ‘No. Mum’s in a right state and I don’t want you around her. I’ve taken the hire car to the back courtyard and brought your truck back down here to make it easier for you to get home. I’ll let you know what’s going on tomorrow.’ Rory sighed and nuzzled into her neck.
She hugged him tightly. ‘It can’t be helped. I knew you came with thousands of tons of baggage. Just do what you need to do.’
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5
Rory woke the next morning, fully clothed, in the position he had gone to sleep in five hours earlier. He was back in his old bedroom at the castle, part of a flat his father had fitted out for his mother when she made it clear she wouldn’t sleep in a room with no central heating and no en suite. The flat was modern, but only in comparison to the castle around it. Growing up, he’d wanted to live in Zoe’s cabin, where her great-uncle Willie had spent his life. Willie had been more of a father to Rory than his own. When Willie had died, he had planned to move into the cabin. He wanted a simple life, to get away from everyone and everything, in the peace and quiet of nature.
