Just a Fan (32 page)

'I hope you managed to have a nice chat,' he told me.

'You certainly had to chat a lot,' I remarked. 'Look, you're all tired out.'

'Nah, I'm fine,' he contradicted offhandedly, with a broad grin. 'Come on - inside.'

The film itself was quite enjoyable. It was very exciting to see Connor on the big screen again, knowing that this was filmed while the two of us were together. What made it even better was that Connor was right by my side all the way through it...

It was excellently made; the directors really had done an admirable job, and there was some brilliant acting. I found myself completely engrossed in the plot: the story of the young miner who was new to the trade, and who had left his wife behind, and was just coming to terms with his new situation. There were some very lovely images of Connor in a helmet with a little lamp on the front, his blue eyes lit up by the orange lanterns and his curls sticking out of his helmet's brim as he climbed through the narrow mineshafts. As I watched, I began to recall some of these scenes, from that time several months ago when Connor had read out extracts of the script with me. I smiled to myself, watching all the characters interact with each other, making their own friends and enemies. There were some wonderful special effects involved, and the film's score was excellent as well. Something about the atmosphere of those dark mines felt very real indeed, and this was more than helped along by the admirable acting.

The only part of the film I didn't enjoy quite as much was the little love scene with Connor's character and his wife, which involved a lot of kissing. I tried to keep as professionally detached as possible at the close-up of Connor's gorgeous lips pressed against a very beautiful lady's, but couldn't help feeling a guilty surge of jealousy - just like I had in the days long gone by. Nevertheless, I didn't let it show on my face, and by the time the cave-in scene came I was over it.

The final ten minutes of the film were magnificent, and when the end credits rolled in every single person watching stood up and clapped - including me. I beamed at Connor, who grinned back, looking very pleasantly surprised at the reaction of the audience. He seemed so relieved and so happy that I just had to admire him once again. He deserved all of this - he had just surpassed himself once again in this wonderful film!

'...and I also loved that bit at the end where everyone breaks out of the ground and sees the sunlight,' I was telling him in the back of the car, on the way to the afterparty. 'It was brilliant...'

'I'm really glad you liked it,' Connor replied sincerely, with a big smile. 'It took so much work, that movie...'

'It's all paid off,' I assured him confidently. Connor smirked.

'In more ways than one,' he chuckled. 'Which reminds me - the day after tomorrow we can start packing - our plane leaves on Wednesday.'

'Oh! You've arranged everything already?' I was surprised at how quickly he had organised everything. He smiled proudly.

'Yes, I have,' he answered. 'We can take a nice long holiday far away from crowds and photographers and troublemakers now...'

I smiled back. 'That sounds very good indeed,' I remarked earnestly.

'Aye, it does, doesn't it?' he said, opening his collar wider with one hand. 'We're off home this time, lass...'

I blinked at him, and frowned. 'Home? You mean...'

'That's right.' He laid his head back against the headrest with a wide grin. 'We're going to Scotland.'

Chapter 22

Glasgow

I had never felt this excited to be going on a trip before - it was amazing. I had only been to Scotland once before, and that had been when I was too small to really appreciate the beautiful wilderness of it much. I just remembered it being windy and very green...

And now I was on my way there with the man I admired most - and not only that, but I was off to the place where he had lived and grown up. Connor had told me during the flight to London that he had arranged for us to stay for a few days with his parents, so that we could meet them while we were there, and also make introductions. I found that I felt more excited than nervous about this; I had wondered for a very long time what Connor's parents were like...what type of people would they be, having raised a movie star? I was very eager to find out. I wondered whether Connor was anything like them...

After our long flight, we finally landed in London, where the rain and clouds felt even colder and gloomier after our sunny departure from New York. I, however, felt undaunted - I could still hardly believe that this very evening I would be in Scotland, Connor's birthplace and home...

In the airport, the two of us moved quickly, going straight for the terminal where our second plane was waiting. When the boarding for the flight to Glasgow was announced I couldn't help but smile - the very
sound
of that city's name filled me with excitement. I had so often dreamed of going to Glasgow just to look around and see all the places there that Connor would have been familiar with, and to wander around aimlessly while entertaining the hope that somewhere in this city I might bump into a family member, or someone who knew him...

But of course, I had never been able to. And besides, even if I had been able to go, I knew that I would never have been able to know exactly where Connor had spent most of his time. However, none of this mattered any more, because I was finally going there with the man himself!

As we sat together on the plane, I thought back to the hundreds of anecdotes Connor had told about Glasgow on talkshows...I remembered listening avidly to every detail of his life in Scotland, smiling to myself all the while. It sounded like such a lovely place to me, and now I was finally going to see, first-hand, the MacGowan household in Glasgow.

I could hardly wait...!

The flight from London to Glasgow was surprisingly short - it barely took an hour and a half. As soon as we began to descend, I leaned eagerly towards the window, looking out for my first glimpse of Scotland. The thick clouds billowed against the glass pane, stormy grey and white, until finally the plane dipped beneath them.

'Oh...!' I whispered in delight. 'I didn't know it was by the sea...'

Connor leaned over to also look out, then grinned. 'Well, now you do.'

'Wow...' I remarked, impressed. Down below us there was the large grey expanse of houses and buildings, just like there had been in New York, but greatly interspersed with patches of vibrant green. Just beyond the airport there was the wide grey-blue sea, bordered by a faintly yellow beach. I couldn't supress a wide smile; I was in love with the place already.

'My sister's coming to pick us up,' explained Connor. 'She and her family are also coming to visit my parents, but Malcolm and the kids are coming along tomorrow.' He grinned at me. 'It looks like you're gonnae be meeting the whole family.'

I grinned back, and then the plane dipped down even further, slowly sinking down towards the runway below. When the wheels finally hit the ground, I craned my head to look out of the window again, seeing the patches of greenery rush by before the plane began to slow down. After a few seconds we pulled into a place beside the terminal building, and over the intercom there came the glorious words: '
Welcome to Glasgow Prestwick. The time is just past four-thirty, and the outside temperature is approximately four degrees centigrade...
'

As soon as we stepped out of the plane, we were met with a wall of icy wind. After the warmth of the plane, it felt even colder to me, and I drew my coat as close around myself as possible. Connor, on the other hand, was smiling broadly as his breath came in faint white clouds from his lips. He breathed the cold air deeply, and growled happily: 'Aaahh! This is more like it!'

I laughed, also sending little clouds billowing away on the wind, and took his still-warm hand in mine, walking with him up to the stairs that led into the terminal building. I looked up at the sky; there was definitely a wilder, more Northern touch to the thick stormy clouds that drifted far above, and the freezing wind smelt fresh and icy. I took as many deep breaths of the invigorating cold as I could before we went indoors, where it was considerably warmer.

Scotland
! I thought. I could hardly believe I was really here...

Seeing as we were still in Glasgow Prestwick airport, where there were people from all sorts of different countries, I had to wait a while to be treated to the sound of that familiar accent. Once Connor and I had retrieved our suitcases - finding ourselves miraculously unnoticed here, contrary to the fuss there had been in New York - we proceeded to the pick-up area. There were many people already waiting there to collect friends and relatives, but because I had never seen Connor's sister before, I was unable to recognise anyone.

My eyes travelled over the groups of waiting people, none of whom spared us more than a passing glance. There were businessmen holding up name cards, young children barely restrained by parents who were waiting for relatives, elderly people squinting at all of the passing faces...

I scanned each likely-looking person, wondering which was Connor's sister. I looked for blue eyes or dark curly hair among the small crowd, trying to guess in advance -

'Over here,' Connor murmured to me, gently steering me in the right direction. He was looking up with a big smile on his face, and I hurriedly turned my head in the direction of his gaze. A little way ahead, near the edge of the barriers, there stood a blonde-haired woman in her mid-thirties, who was grinning widely at us. If it hadn't been for the vaguely familiar smile, I wouldn't have known her to be Connor's sister at all. She had a slightly different nose, and her hair, upon closer inspection, had been meticulously straightened and apparently dyed a lighter colour. But that grin bore uncanny resemblance to Connor's, and her height also nearly equalled his. I felt rather dwarf-like in their presence...

'Hi!' Gracie greeted us.

'Hey there,' said Connor, graciously allowing her to peck him on the cheek and hug him. She turned to me and grinned, taking in every detail of my appearance.

'Oh, ye mus' be Lillian, is tha' reight?' she asked, her heavy accent immediately broadening my smile.

'Yes, that's me,' I replied, shaking her proferred hand. 'Nice to meet you.'

'It's lovely to meet ye too,' she told me. 'Ah'm Gracie, by the wie, if Connor's no' already said -'

'I have, I have,' Connor assured her, a slightly teasing edge to his voice. I got the impression that these two had a long history of childhood battles between each other.

'Ah've parked close by,' Gracie went on. 'Let's go, shall we?'

Eagerly, I took my suitcase and the three of us proceeded towards the exit. As we walked, Gracie turned to Connor and told him: 'Heather 'n' Ewan have no' stopped talkin' aboot their Uncle Connor comin' to visit, ye know. It's startin' to do ma heid in, the wie they jus' go on and on...'

'Well, ye have kids, ye deal weth them,' Connor teased with a carefree laugh, slipping effortlessly back into his thicker, more gravelly accent.

Gracie rolled her eyes. 'Ah, shut yer geggie, Connor,' she replied, unimpressed. 'Ye're no' gonnae start
tha'
agen. An' ah haird what ye said aboot me on tha' Gordon Wells show, too -'

I bit back my involuntary smile of amusement as the two of them bickered good-naturedly, obviously falling back into an age-old routine that, many years ago, would have ended in pulled hair and bloodied noses.

Having been raised an only child, I could only look on detachedly, and try not to let my affectionate amusement show too much...

During the short car journey, it became clear to me that Connor always had been - and always would be - the annoying younger brother of Gracie's. I supposed that this was probably due to the fact that he had endured twenty or so long years in the shadow of her successes, and now that he was the world-famous one, he was taking full advantage. However, I didn't really dwell on this, because I was too busy staring avidly out of the window. I watched with rapt attention as the charming houses went by, and admired some of the grand old architecture that still stood amongst the modern buildings. I had never seen anything like this where I came from - even New York didn't have as many Victorian edifices still standing as this city did. I found myself completely taken in by everything...

In about half an hour, we finally arrived at our destination. Gracie pulled the car into the driveway of a modest, surprisingly nondescript house that did not stand out in any way from the others beside it. As we got out, I found myself staring up at it, feeling oddly light-headed. I had never, ever imagined that one day I would be stood outside the home of Connor's parents, here in Glasgow. It was such a privilege - I doubted that any of Connor's previous girlfriends had ever been brought all the way here. Even an over-zealous fan on a pilgrimage to Scotland would have had trouble finding this house: it was like a needle in a haystack, since Connor had only ever vaguely mentioned the fact that he used to live in this particular part of Glasgow.

I gazed at it in wonder, taking in every detail; it was deceptively normal-looking, and nobody walking past would ever guess that a man as famous as Connor had lived here. But normal-looking though it was, it still was in brilliant condition, with some very new windows and an impeccably even roof. My pulse began to flutter; I had always been so fascinated by Connor's childhood and his life before his rise to fame, and now I was finally here. I could just imagine a younger Connor walking up the steps to the porch of this house, that was right before me...all that was left was for me to meet his parents.

I had heard so many miscellaneous anecdotes about them from Connor's appearances on talk shows, and was still uncertain about what they were really like. All I knew about his father was that he had once dropped Connor in a muddy marsh as a child, and that his mother had been at her wits' end when Connor had been in his early twenties and completely futureless...

'It's nice to be back,' Connor remarked with a wide grin, also looking up at the house. Then, still smiling, he took me by the arm and led me with Gracie up the steps to the front door.

Just before he pressed the doorbell, though, he stopped and chuckled. 'Oh God, I've not done this in
so long
...' he laughed with mischievous anticipation. Like a child again, he looked back up and then stabbed at the doorbell repeatedly, in an apparently traditional sequence that he always rang it. After four short stabs, he then kept his finger on the button, and I could clearly hear the continuous ringing sound from inside the house.

'
Alreet, ah'm comin'
!' a faint voice from indoors called irritably. A few seconds later an indistinct figure swam into view behind the glass doors of the porch, and then opened the door with a flourish.

There she was, barely taller than me, plump and with cropped greying hair: Connor's own mother. She looked just like any aging Scottish woman; that was probably because Connor had started out as any Scottish boy, and so there was no reason for his mother to be any different. I found myself immediately warming to her, even though she had not yet said a word - there was something about her jovial, eager smile and rosy dimples that touched me.