Page 99 of Just Like in the Movies

‘Fuck …’ The beer started to bubble in his belly, his throat felt raw and achy and he wasn’t going down with anything.

Was Jack right? Why hadn’t he even been able to have the conversation with Ruby? Why had he let her tell him he didn’t love her. He cared about her, but what if this was more than that, and he hadn’t even asked himself how much more? Had he blown it? How did he really feel about her? Did he want to go back to London? To figure it out?

Yes, I damn well do.

And how could he let her lose The Royale when the reason she was selling the place was nothing to do with the theatre, but simply because she didn’t want to leave him beholden to her?

‘Fuck and double fuck. She’s selling the place. Signing the papers tomorrow morning, the final screening is tonight.’ He leapt out of his chair and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, then checked his watch. ‘I’ve got to get back to London, talk to Mom, and then get to The Royale before the final screening finishes.’

‘Hey, what about our bar crawl through Paris?’ Jack asked, but he was grinning.

‘We’ll have to take a rain check.’ Leaning over the table he grabbed Jack by the cheeks and planted a smacker on his brother’s lips. ‘Thanks, bro. For once, I think you actually might be talking sense.’

Jack laughed as he scrubbed his lips with the back of his hand. ‘I always talk sense – you just don’t listen.’

Luke whipped his jacket off the back of his chair.

‘What’s the final show?’ Jack asked.

‘Last of the Mohicans,’ he murmured, as he clicked through the apps on his phone to book a ticket on the next Eurostar train. ‘It’s the last film in the Matty’s Classics season, apparently it was one of our uncle’s favourite movies.’

‘Sounds like the guy had great taste,’ Jack said. ‘I loved that movie as a kid. All the running and shooting and shit – although it’s kind of a downer, doesn’t everyone end up dead?’

‘Not everyone …’ He clicked the pay now button, then tucked the phone back into his jacket pocket. ‘Not this time. I’ll see you around Jack, keep in touch.’

Jack saluted him as he turned to dash off, then shouted. ‘Go for it Hawkeye, go save your girl, before she saves herself.’

***

‘Hi, I’m trying to locate Helena Devlin’s dressing room.’ Four hours later, Luke stopped a young man laden with an armful of evening gowns in dry-cleaner bags in the busy backstage area behind the Cottosloe’s stage.

The guy stopped, then did a double-take.

‘I’m her son,’ Luke added, although from the young man’s heightened colour he suspected the information was unnecessary.

‘Oh my, yes you are,’ the dresser said with a purr that could mean only one thing. He was a Falcone nut. ‘Wow, you really are the spit of him, aren’t you?’

For once, Luke didn’t find the provocative stare or the unfiltered comments uncomfortable. He’d figure out why that was later, much later. He had to talk to his mom about saving The Royale before he saw Ruby. And while that should be fairly straightforward, getting his mother to cooperate was never a walk in the park.

‘I can’t imagine why Hell on Wheels ever tried to deny it,’ the guy said.

Hell on Wheels? Was that what the backstage crew called his mom?

Luke would have laughed, if his guts weren’t tied in knots.

‘Me, either,’ Luke said.

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, it occurred to him, it was the first time he’d ever acknowledged his relation to Falcone to someone he wasn’t closely related to … or Ruby. He tensed, bracing for a backlash. But the guy just grinned, as if they were sharing a particularly naughty joke.

Hell, maybe they were. Why had he always been so scared to talk about his father? His mom had always refused to talk about Falcone to the press when he was a kid, and now he knew the reason why was much more complex than he’d ever thought. She hadn’t done it to be coy, or stoke the gossip, but because she’d always been conflicted, maybe even ashamed, about having a child with the man her brother had loved. But he could have owned the truth about his parentage himself as an adult. And he never had.

‘Mind you, Helena is nothing if not capricious, right?’ the young man said, sending Luke a conspiratorial wink. Juggling the garments in his arms, he pointed towards a hallway at the back of the stage area. ‘Her dressing room is that way. You can’t miss it. It’s got a star on the door the size of a small planet.’ Giving Luke a wave he rushed off in the opposite direction.

Luke headed towards the dressing room feeling weirdly deflated by the encounter.

Jesus, he’d been kind of a jerk about his old man. And the Falcone nuts.

What was so terrible about being Falcone’s son? And dealing with his battalion of fans? After all, Ruby had been one of them. If it weren’t for this face – his father’s face – she might never have wanted him. So when he thought about it that way, he had quite a lot to thank the guy for.

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