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They hit the shops, thumbing through T-shirts, shirts, jeans, everything on a hanger. Ruby had bypassed some of the fashionable shops advertising designer labels, in search for the cheaper stores.
“Pick out what you like. Remember you could be staying for a while. You need a new wardrobe.”
Ruby had picked him out a new watch, which cost all of twenty-five pounds, and insisted on a pair of sunglasses. They were in the sale as it was October. He had sarcastically argued he didn’t really need a pair.
“But you can’t wear the ones you do – even driving. Says film star all over them.”
“I won’t need sunglasses. I haven’t even seen the sun yet.”
“This time of year, the sun is really low – when it does come out – so actually you will.”
He’d agreed, handed over the cash, luckily no customer assistants asked any questions. In fact, at one point he thought he saw empathy in one guy. He must have thought Ruby’s henpecking intolerable, however Steve, for some reason, enjoyed his sister’s fuss, even if she was overbearing. Any other woman would not be getting away with this sort of behaviour, obviously, but as it was Ruby and she seemed happy to boss him about, he let her.
He had fifteen years to make up for.
Although, buried resentment reminded him he hadn’t altogether forgiven Ruby yet. But today wasn’t the time to dwell. They were all that was left of their family. And she was doing him a favour.
He just didn’t like how she was taking pleasure in it. She was way too smug. This had better work.
Laden with the bags containing Steve’s new wardrobe, Ruby stopped abruptly, looking at a dress in a shop window and sighed. Maybe it was time to make it up to her the only way he knew how.
Build a few bridges, Steve.
“Come on, all this shopping was for me; I’ll treat you now.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to.”
“Yes I do.” Steve grabbed her elbow, and escorted her into the shop. Twenty minutes later – Ruby had tried on a few dresses in the end – they left the shop, Ruby grinning gleefully.
“‘Oh, you don’t have to,’” Steve said sarcasm lacing his words, “‘but is it okay if I try on this one, and this one and this one?’”
Ruby elbowed him playfully in the ribs. “Thank you, I’m very grateful. I’m not used to being spoilt.”
Steve winked. “Not a problem, Roo.”
“Just don’t make a habit of flashing your money around though,” she said more sternly.
“Okay,” he said, then mumbled, “I try to do a nice thing…”
“You were nice, now how about a coffee. I’m all shopped out and need a rest.”
Steve couldn’t agree more. The jet lag was catching up with him. He needed a boost.
They stopped at a coffee shop in the middle of the Mall which had a seating area under the escalators.
Steve chose a table tucked away, while Ruby ordered the coffees. He grew anxious as he looked at the clothes in the bags. If the press got hold of this, would they make it out as an early midlife crisis on his part? He started to imagine the headlines; ‘Mediocre Man Mason.’
Steve watched the shoppers passing him by. No one was taking a blind bit of notice of him. Maybe the people of Bristol were less likely to believe a Hollywood star would be right under their nose, whereas in London his cover could have easily been blown.
He wouldn’t get too excited yet. This was the first day. If he did get discovered, he’d have to say goodbye to Ruby, or she’d be swept up in it all. Luckily, he’d changed his name to his mum’s maiden name as he tried the rounds in Hollywood. An agent had suggested that Mason had a better ring to it than Fisher. This helped Mum and Ruby, when things had started to warm up for Steve on the fame front. They were able to keep a low profile, without being instantaneously linked to the new actor on the scene. It helped they lived in the UK, too. But he’d kept them private as much as he could and it seemed to work. Ruby had led a normal life as far as he could tell.
Although, was she happy with this normal life? He’d ask her one day. Today she was too keen to be his personal shopper.
“Large cappuccino for you, skinny vanilla latte for me.” Ruby placed the coffees on the table. “We’ll have these, shop some more, then you can buy me lunch.” She grinned.
“I was hoping you’d say we could go home. Haven’t I got enough clothes? I don’t have to get them all today.”
“Oh no, the next stop is the opticians.”
“I don’t need glasses.”
“You do now.”
She sipped her coffee, and winced, it was still too hot. He’d tested his own, but could drink it napalm. His mother had always said he had an asbestos mouth, drinking tea practically from the kettle. Fascinated, he watched Ruby stir her latte.
“What? Have I got milk on my lip or something?”
He laughed. “No. You just remind me so much of Mum.”
“I do?”
“Yes, your mannerisms, the facial expressions. Your eyes.”
“Yeah, they’re this a dull sludge colour, great.”
“They’re green. They’re not dull.”
“So where’d you get the pretty eyes from, huh?” She was referring to the light blue eyes that had now become one of his assets as an actor. That and his smile. Oh, he knew if he looked some women straight in the eye, he saw an instant transformation from calm and collected to a nervous jelly mess. He’d seen the state it could create a thousand times. Especially now he was Steve Mason – the Actor and Hollywood Hunk. He’d learnt in his teens he could make girls giggly and shy. He even used his eyes on his own mother to get away with murder.
“Dad, apparently,” he said. That’s what his mother used to say; he was the spitting image of his father.
“Great, Dad passes on the pretty eye gene to just you,” she said, cupping her latte glass and pouting.
“Your eyes are pretty.”
Ruby snorted. “They don’t sparkle like yours. So annoying! And don’t look at me like that, either.” She wagged her finger. “It won’t wash with me. And don’t forget it.”
They people-watched while finishing their coffees.
“Shall we go?” Ruby said, draining the last of her drink and pushing the cup away.
“Damn it, when did you get so bossy?”
The next thing Steve knew he was being lead into an opticians.
“We need glasses,” Ruby said to an assistant that approached her. She was a pretty blonde, who immediately took a shine to Steve who was trying on different pairs of glasses.
“Aren’t you—?”
“No!” Steve laughed it off, keeping a pair of frames on his face.
“He gets that all the time.” Ruby stood in between them. “That’s why we were thinking some glasses.”
“Do you need your eyes tested?”
“Nothing wrong with my eyes, twenty-twenty vision,” Steve said, beaming his million-dollar smile at her. Ruby pinched him. He rubbed his arm, scowling at Ruby, then looked back to the assistant. “I’ve got a job interview, thought glasses would make me look more professional.”
The assistant nodded. If she believed that, she’d believe anything.
“Here, try these.” Ruby picked out a pair of glasses, thin silver frames and handed them to him. He put them on, looked in the mirror, then looked at her, she frowned. “Hmmm…Not enough.”
“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” he said quietly so only Ruby could hear.
“Clark Kent.” Ruby pushed another pair into his hands, putting the other pair back. “No one realised he was Superman, did they? Not even Lois.” She whipped the next pair of glasses off his face. “Not nerdy enough.”
She found another pair. Steve knew what she was doing; she was trying to find frames that didn’t quite suit him, yet didn’t want them to look so ridiculous no one would fancy him. He put the glasses on. They were bigger frames, though fashionable, but they didn’t quite complement his face, so would hide his looks, at least a little. His heart still palpitated every time he glimpsed his new haircut in the mirror, let alone the spectacles on his face. What was he doing?
Early mid-life crisis was definitely what it looked like. The press could not get wind of this.
“Perfect!” Ruby clapped her hands together. “Can we buy these, please?” she said, approaching the assistant, who’d watched dumbfounded for the last ten minutes. She’d tried helping but Ruby hadn’t allowed her to express her expert opinion. The assistant’s face said it all. These glasses were all wrong, which meant they were right for their purpose.
“Well, uh, they’re our display.” The assistant hesitated. “It takes a few days for them to come through usually—”
“We were hoping to take them today – as he only needs plain lenses.”
Steve got out his wallet, pulling out twenties. “Here,” he said, winking at the assistant, young enough to use his blue-eyed charm on, plus she wasn’t his sister. “I’m sure this will do it. Just not a word now.” He tapped his nose.
“Okay, okay.” Works every time. The assistant hurried off, ran it through the till, having a word with the manager. She put the glasses in a case and handed them to Steve, keeping hold of his hand for a brief moment.
“You know, I’m free tonight—”
“I’m sorry, but he’s gay.” Ruby rushed in, grabbing Steve’s arm. The assistant looked taken back.
“What?” Steve said, astounded.
“Come on, Bro,” Ruby said sternly. “Bruno’s waiting for you.”
“Bruno?” Steve mouthed, still wearing a confused expression.
Immediately leaving the opticians shop, Ruby took the glasses out of the case and started cleaning them and removing the tags. “Put these on.”
“Now?”
“No, next week.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, she was on to you then.”
“I thought this whole idea was for me to find a date.”
“You can’t start using your charm like that. Not until we’ve fully agreed on your identity.”
Steve’s phone buzzed inside his pocket, he pulled it out, frowned and shoved it back. He’d deal with messages later.
“Phone!” Ruby said, stopping abruptly, holding a shopping-bag-laden hand in the air, as if pointing to a light bulb appearing above her head. “We’d better get you a phone. Nothing too fancy mind, but you’re going to need to give out your phone number, and you don’t want to give out that one.” She tapped his arm, pointing to a phone shop ahead. “Get a pay as you go. That’ll do you.”
Twenty-five minutes, and some mild arguing later, Steve walked out of the shop with a brand new phone. Nothing too flash, as Ruby had insisted, something to make calls and take text messages. Ruby strolled behind him with a satisfied grin. Steve had wanted the all singing and dancing latest smart phone – even he didn’t have it yet – but Ruby had a point. Unfortunately.
“You want someone to think you’re poor and still love you, right?”
“Why did I let you talk me into this?” Steve muttered, momentarily annoyed by her smug happiness. He stood in the middle of the Cribbs, by the fountain, trying to work out his new phone and put Ruby’s number in it. Ruby threw a coin into the fountain and closed her eyes. He hoped she was wishing this plan of hers would work.
Ruby nudged him. “Oh and, you know, I was thinking, you’ve got to ditch your accent.”
“I’ve worked fifteen years to get this accent. I have to sound American, only way to get the best parts, kid.”
“Hugh Grant does okay.”
“Hugh Grant gets typecast.”
“Point taken.” She nodded. “But you still need to lose it. Otherwise they won’t believe you’re not Steve Mason. You’re an actor, act British. Or something.” She waved her hands in frustration. “Pretend this is your next big role.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll try. I’m sure hanging around you will bring my accent back slowly.” Plus make me swear profusely.
“You say it as if it’s a bad thing.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and hugged her closer. “No, it’s far from a bad thing. I just can’t believe my baby sister has grown up…to someone really bossy.”
“I’m assertive, not bossy.” She elbowed him in the ribs, and he groaned.
“Right, yes, assertive. So where am I taking you to lunch?”
Chapter 4 (#ue7247201-776d-595b-9703-19c513a70a76)
With paranoia setting in, Ruby decided to leave the Mall for lunch and drove Steve to her favourite local café.
They were sitting in a corner making idle chit-chat whilst perusing the menu. Ruby had checked out the dessert menu first – as well as the cake options deliciously displayed on the counter. It always helped her choose what she wanted as a main. The café was quiet, with hardly any customers, which she hoped meant fewer chances of someone realising who Steve really was.
Would he fly straight back to LA if he was spotted? She liked him being here; it had been so long. She was trying to hold in some of her excitement at having her brother back in her life, for fear of scaring him away. She hadn’t believed it was Steve on the phone until she’d seen him in the flesh at the hotel, but she needed to rein in her forceful nature, otherwise surely he’d up and leave? Was he used to being talked to like this? Hollywood-bred divas were not used to being told no. Would Steve be the same?
She couldn’t help it, this is what she’d become. At work, she played her role firm but fair. She couldn’t afford to look weak; if her staff didn’t keep the hotel residents happy, she was just as likely to lose her job as any of the others.
Since her mum had died she had no one else but herself, so she’d toughened herself up and didn’t take shit – this part she stuck to particularly after a few failed relationships with lousy boyfriends.
She watched as Steve turned over the menu, looking at the choices, utterly relaxed. He appeared down to earth and laid back, like he’d been as a teenager, so maybe Hollywood hadn’t ruined him yet.
Steve looked up, catching her staring. “What?”
“Nothing,” Ruby said, smiling. “Can’t believe you’re really here, that’s all.”
The waitress approached the table and took their order, placing two glasses of iced water down that they’d ordered when first seated. Steve had probably been a bit Hollywood Diva-ish insisting on the slice of lemon. At least he hadn’t insisted on it being sparkling. This kind of café served water from the tap unless you were willing to pay for a bottle. Ruby felt strongly that there was nothing wrong with tap water, so why buy it? Even in the restaurant at the hotel she insisted on jugs of water being made available at the table. Admittedly, they did have ice and lemon too.
