Page 62 of Just Like in the Movies

‘It is?’ she said, because he’d lost her, the guarded look on his face only saddening her more. Whatever this was about, it was even harder for him to talk about than finding the perfect break-up line.

‘Yeah, it is.’ He propped his elbows on the table and scrubbed his hands over his face, then swore softly. He raked his fingers through his hair as he straightened, and finally met her gaze. ‘I went to see my mom yesterday.’

Her brain knotted around the logistics. ‘You flew all the way to New York and back in a day?’ Was that even possible?

‘No.’ He barked out an unamused laugh. ‘She’s in London, preparing for a one-woman show at the National next month.’

‘She is? But that’s wonderful,’ Ruby said, although she couldn’t imagine what that had to do with her and Matty and The Royale. ‘How cool. Is that why she rang you last week?’

‘It’s not wonderful. Or cool.’ The furrow on his brow became a chasm. ‘My mom brings drama with her wherever she goes, she can’t help it. And she didn’t call me a week ago, she called you.’

‘She was probably only trying to get hold of you though. I mean, why would she …’

He clasped her hand, squeezed her fingers to silence her. ‘Ruby, she called you because she had something to confess to you.’

‘She did?’

‘To confess to us both. And what she told me explains why Matty left me half of The Royale. It’s kind of messed up.’

‘What did she say?’

He ducked his head. Whatever his mother had told him he was extremely unhappy about it.

‘She told me Matty and my old man were lovers. Not just lovers, hopelessly in love. They met on the set of The Sorrento Summer, and had a secret affair while Falcone was filming the scenes in London. They used to sneak into the Serpentine after dark to go swimming, and to make love.’

‘One Summer in Sorrento,’ Ruby corrected him, her mind racing as her chest collapsed in on itself.

Matty had known Falcone. Had been in love with Falcone. And Falcone had loved him back. For real. And he’d never told her? How was that even possible?

She thought of all the nights when they’d talked about their mutual obsession with Falcone over the years, poured over the actor’s best movie moments. She could still remember vividly the day they’d both heard about Falcone’s death, when she was twelve, and doing her illegal Saturday job manning the ticket booth at The Royale. She’d been hopelessly in love with Falcone, or rather his bad boy persona, ever since she hit puberty. While other girls had swooned over Leonardo DiCaprio and Channing Tatum, she had been enthralled by a guy who was practically old enough to be her granddad.

But she hadn’t been as devastated as Matty by his death. Matty had insisted they run a midnight screening of Boy Blue, Falcone’s B-movie debut from the late-seventies, on the day news of the actor’s suicide broke. They’d had a packed house of hipsters, movie buffs, Matty’s friends and a contingent of blue rinse matrons who must have taken speed to stay up all night. She’d found Matty in the projection booth before the show, tears rolling down his cheeks as he re-looped the old 35mm projector they’d cleaned up for the occasion. She’d been shocked because Matty never cried. Or certainly not in silence – with real tears and without an audience.

She’d wondered briefly then if he had known Falcone. After all, the actor had once had a world-famous love affair with Matty’s sister, when Matty was still talking to her. But when Ruby had asked, he’d simply stared at her for the longest moment, and shaken his head.

Then she’d gotten a grip and realised Matty couldn’t possibly have known Falcone, because no way would Matty have kept it a secret. Matty didn’t keep secrets, especially not juicy ones conc

erning himself and one of the most iconic celebrities on the planet. And he’d never kept any secrets from her.

Only he had.

Her throat hurt and her eyes burned.

Matty had kept a lot of secrets. The secret of his will, the secret of the theatre’s catastrophic debts, the secret of his feud with Helena, the secret of his love affair with Falcone, the secret of why he’d wanted his ashes scattered over the Serpentine in the hours after dusk …

What else had he kept from her? And why had he? Perhaps she hadn’t been as good a friend to him as she always thought.

‘What did you say?’ Luke asked.

‘One Summer in Sorrento,’ she repeated. ‘That’s the name of the movie you’re talking about. The only movie Falcone made with your mother.’

‘Right …’

‘Do you know what happened? How Matty’s affair with Falcone ended?’ she asked, not sure she really wanted to know, because it must have ended tragically. But feeling she ought to know, because Matty had been her friend.

Offering solidarity and sympathy from beyond the grave wasn’t going to do much good, but at least she could finally quash any of the little resentments she’d felt when she’d first found out about his will.

‘Can’t you guess?’ Luke said, the edge in his voice confusing her.

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