Just a Fan (45 page)

Read Just a Fan Online

Authors: Emily Austen,Leen Elle

BOOK: Just a Fan
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Indeed I did! I scrolled down to read the comments.

 

"
Bimbo23 - 23rd July, 16:02 p.m:

 

haha look at her face

 

TehNinja - 15th July, 16:02 p.m:

 

FIJI!!! omgzzzz I WENT THERE 2!

 

Commodore_JN - 15th July, 16:03 p.m:

 

he looks like he is certainly having fun

 

Sstalker462 - 15th July, 16:04 p.m:

 

Noo dont do it connor

 

mAcy - 15th July, 16:04 p.m:

 

:) rawr i love those shorts

 

HannaH - 15th July, 16:05 p.m:

 

OMGZ those blu boxers rule...i have to get some for my bf.

 

kayleeee - 15th July, 16:05 p.m:

 

whooo get a roooom

 

wibl - 15th July, 16:07 p.m:

 

i dont get it is sshe an actres?

 

balletluva123 - 15th July, 16:08 p.m:

 

i hope she gets eaten by a shark, silly ho.

 

kllbs - 15th July, 16:11 p.m:

 

awwww ^_^

 

They are so made for ech other!

 

esbs-samurai - 15th July, 16:11 p.m:

 

not a hookup as we first thought. This could be going somehwere

 

yayabear - 15th July, 16:12 p.m:

 

Go back to yr movies scotty boy

 

jamaicabaker103 - 15th July, 16:15 p.m:

 

i think people should give these guys a break - they look real happy together.

 

prettyinpink - 15th July, 16:16 p.m:

 

I heard a rumor on that they were MARRIED."

 

I grinned at this. It seemed the news was filtering out already. Well, let them speculate and gossip - I had far better things to do at the present time! Closing down the laptop, I walked over to the open window of our small rented place. As I looked out at the lazily waving palm trees, I found myself thinking again about how lucky I was. If I had never come face-to-face with Connor, then I would probably have eventually married some ordinary, dull guy and spent a honeymoon in a crappy hotel in Spain, as everyone I knew seemed to be doing nowadays. I fleetingly thought of Kate; she must have tied the knot with David by now...I wondered whether Julie had told her that I had definitely
not
fallen on some hardship in the US, and was now happily married and having a wonderful time in Fiji.

 

I smiled. Even if she hadn't, I knew it was only a matter of time before Kate picked up a magazine and found the happy news written in bold lettering all over the front cover...

 

Unfortunately for me, not all was lovely and relaxed during the last few days of our honeymoon. The meal we had eaten at the cosy restaurant we had visited one night must have had something very wrong with it, because the day after, Connor and I both fell ill. Instead of exploring beaches and secret little coves as we usually did, our morning was spent lying weakly in bed, comforting each other by murmuring words of reassurance or by simply holding hands. I myself felt awful; the mere thought of food made me feel sick, and my stomach seemed to have a life of its own. Connor didn't look much better: his curls were damp with perspiration and his skin was a pale greyish colour, sweltering hot. I shivered, nestling close to him and putting my hand gently against his burning forehead.

 

'Poor thing...' I sighed, kissing his shining cheek. He turned his head towards me, with a feeble smile.

 

'You look like you need a glass of water, pet,' he told me croakily. 'Go have a drink.'

 

I groaned. 'I don't feel like...ohgod.'

 

'What?'

 

'Be right back!' I yelped, leaping out of bed and just about making it to the bathroom. I had already been sick about four times already during the past few hours; Connor only three. One have thought that we'd flushed the remnants of the bad meal out of our systems by then...

 

I shakily got to my feet when the ordeal was over, and staggered to the sink, where I brushed my teeth yet again. The way things were going, we would probably need about ten more tubes of toothpaste between us...I looked up at myself in the mirror. I looked a sight; my face was just as white and drawn as Connor's, and I had purple circles beneath my eyes to top it all off. My hair hung limp and lank, and I certainly did
not
look like the wife of a movie star.

 

Grumbling, I splashed my face with some cold water, holding onto the sides of the sink queasily. I hadn't eaten since yesterday, but there was no way anything was going to stay down before my stomach had settled. Weakly I trudged back to the bed and sat down. Connor was lying on his back, spread-eagled under the sheets. He opened his eyes blearily and raised a hand to stroke my cheek.

 

'This really is no fun, is it?' he chuckled feebly. 'What a way to end our honeymoon, eh?'

 

'We had a great time before, though,' I reasoned optimistically, then looked at him sympathetically. 'Would
you
like some water, Conn?'

 

He rubbed his eyes. 'Aye, that would be nice,' he replied. 'I've been sweating and throwing up all night, after all.'

 

I kissed his forehead lovingly, then left the room to fetch him a glass of water. I padded barefoot across the tiled floor and entered the kitchenette, where I took a bottle of mineral water from the small fridge and a blue glass. When I carried them back to our dim bedroom, Connor was sitting up, leaning against the bed's headboard and fanning himself with a hand, his bare chest gleaming with sweat.

 

'Here you go,' I said, putting the glass on the bedside table and filling it up. Connor took it gratefully and drank from it with careful sips, then pulled a face.

 

'Tastes funny,' he remarked.

 

'You're ill, Conn, that's why,' I told him. He sighed, then put the glass down, picking up the bottle instead and placing the cool plastic against his forehead.

 

'Ah,' he murmured. 'That's nice.'

 

I smiled at him. 'You're lucky I haven't got it as bad as you,' I said. 'Who'd take care of you if I wasn't?' He laughed.

 

'I do love you, Lilly,' he mumbled affectionately, then put the bottle down, stretching himself out again on his back. 'I think I'll catch a few more hours of sleep, if I can...'

 

Though we both dreaded the long flight home, we managed to recover to some extent before our departure. As we went back on the plane, Connor quipped: 'Now I fully appreciate the meaning meaning behind "in sickness and in health"...'.

 

Dry remarks aside, Connor arranged for an appointment with his most trusted doctor, just to be safe. 'He'll prescribe us something, just in case it
was
something seriously odd that we had...' he told me. I didn't object; even though I could
almost
say "calamari" without wanting to gag, I felt that medication would definitely be welcome. Truth be told, I also felt a bit guilty, seeing as
I
had chosen the restaurant we had had that meal at...

 

In between the handful of tests and nasty little blood samples we had to provide, Connor and I managed to more or less relax together and begin to get used to married life. Not that much had changed with us; it was just the idea that was still sinking in.

 

After I had dutifully sent off a small collection of our best holiday photos to my mother (and also to Connor's mother, come to think of it), it was but the work of a moment to print out my favourite ones and put them all around Connor's penthouse in their frames. Before, I had felt that his home was lacking in personal touches...now, it was no longer the case. Candid photos of our trip bedecked just about every bare surface I could find - even on the dinner table there was a picture of me posing seriously while Connor, without me noticing, was baring his teeth at me as if about to bite.

 

Seeing all these silly photos we had taken, Connor didn't seem to particularly mind. When I laughingly told him that I loved waking up in the morning and seeing the close-up, cross-eyed photo of him I had put on the bedside table, he simply chuckled too and said: 'They do make a change from all those serious photoshoot pictures...'

 

The following week - after Connor had skipped several promotional gigs through the need to relax after being ill - the two of us were sitting before Connor's doctor, whose smart nameplate read "Dr J. T. Langford", and both waiting to hear what it was that we had been stricken with in the final few days of our honeymoon. I sincerely hoped it wasn't anything serious...trust something bad to happen on
my
honeymoon...

 

'I have the diagnosis for each of you here,' Dr Langford said finally, putting a piece of paper onto the table. I tried to read it, but as it was upside-down and very complicated, I couldn't make any sense of it. 'Mr MacGowan, you are indeed recovering from a mild case of food poisoning, so you will need to take the medication prescribed here once a morning for a week. Mrs MacGowan, on the other hand...' He turned the sheet of paper over, and in the suspenseful pause I felt a jolt of fear, Connor's hand tightening reflexively around mine. '
You
should be expecting a child in about seven months.'

 

For the entire drive home, Connor did not say a word. I didn't really notice it; I myself was absolutely thunderstruck. When I got out of the car, my knees were very wobbly indeed and hardly able to support me. All I could think about was what Dr Langford had told us.

 

Expecting a child
, I thought, dazed. Life must really be fond of dropping bombshells on me...The doctor had calmly explained that I hadn't actually eaten anything that disagreed with me then, contrary to Connor. It had been complete coincidence that I had gotten that dreaded attack of morning sickness at the same time that Connor had gotten food poisoning. All through this explanation Connor had remained silent.

 

I glanced at him now; his face was pale and his eyes were fixed with shock, his jaw clenched.
Oh, God.

 

'Don't you like the idea of babies, then?' I asked him later on with a frown, attempting to find the reason for his continued angsty silence when I had already begun to gradually grasp the idea. I was already tentatively prodding my stomach as if it was something dangerous.

 

Connor gave an angry sigh of frustration. 'No, I do
not
like the idea of babies,' he replied firmly.

 

I was appalled. '
Why
?'

 

'Well, all they ever seem to do is either throw up, cry, wet themselves or any of the three at once!' Connor said, gesticulating widely to make his point. 'Either that, or they just sit there and...and
bubble
.'

 

'What's wrong with that?' I challenged heatedly, in defiance.

 

He stared at me as if I was crazy. 'What's
wrong
with it?' he repeated. 'Lilly, I can't tell you
how
many bad experiences I've had with bairns throughout the course of my life. When Gracie's Heather was wee, she just
leaked
everywhere. She was a nightmare! Sure she's cute
now
, but before...' He shuddered. 'And there was also a time when I was on the set of a film where I had to hold a baby, and as soon as we started shooting it was sick all over me - don't you dare laugh, it wasnae funny at all! They showed it in the outtakes and everything, and a still of me holding a wean at arm's length with my shirt covered in regurgitated baby food did a tour of the whole Internet!'

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