Sabrina slammed the door shut and put her back against it. Sobbing, her first thought was to call Dom, but then the kind face of someone she really did trust crossed her mind. Shakily, she scrolled for his number.
Sabrina was still sobbing when Conor arrived back at the flat. He was sweating profusely and out of breath. Realising the state she was in, he pulled her on to his knee as if she was a baby and held her tightly. ‘Jesus, Dickens. I haven’t cycled like that for years. Had too much Guinness to drive back from Uncle Frank’s and I tell ya, the hills on that Penrigan road are fecking deadly. I feel like I’ve just done a leg of the Tour de France.’
‘I didn’t…’ A hitch. ‘Expect…’ Another hitch. ‘You to come back now…’ Three hitches in a row.
‘Now, you tell me.’ Conor stroked her hair, then gently moved her off his lap back on to the sofa. ‘Coffee, tea, me?’ He winked at her.
‘Tea please.’
He came back in with a pint of water and placed a steaming mug of tea on the edge of the window seat. He unwrapped a large bar of chocolate and handed it to Sabrina, then opened the balcony door. ‘Sorry, I need some air.’ He wafted his t-shirt up, broke off a strip of chocolate and handed it to her. ‘And get some of that sugar down you, girl, it looks like you’ve had a shock.’
Just the presence of this solid Irish man calmed her, as he had done from the minute she set eyes on him. She took a sip of the hot, sweet tea. ‘I didn’t mean you to cut short your evening. I’m so sorry.’ She stuffed in a square of chocolate.
He joined her on the sofa and put his hand on her knee. ‘Now, do you wanna tell me what all this is about or not? I can be a shoulder or a shotgun, whichever is required.’ His curly hair was tumbling all over the place, his brown eyes soft and sincere looked caringly at her. Sabrina put her hand to her forehead and looked at the floor.
‘I’m really worried that what I’m going to say to you now will ruin our friendship.’
He gently put his hand under her chin and lifted her head. ‘It would have to be something pretty bad to do that.’
‘Well, I have lied to you about something pretty big.’
‘That your name is not really Jilly Dickens and you’re actually a big shot actress, you mean.’
Sabrina’s mouth fell open. ‘Woah! How on earth…?
‘I went in your bedroom to nick some of your deodorant, your driving licence was out on the side and yes, I admit, I checked out your photo.’
‘When?’
‘Oh, a couple of days ago.’
‘Why didn’t you say something?’
‘Because I’m a Brady and coming from a family such as mine, your secret is yours until you want to tell it.’
‘You’re not angry, then?’
‘Angry.’ Conor pretended to straighten an imaginary tie. ‘I’ve seen Jillian Swift’s tits. Not many men can say that.’
It felt weird hearing him say her christened name out loud. She laughed and hit him on the chest. ‘What? When?’
‘The night I met you, silly. You ran through and—’
‘Shit, yes, that seems so long ago.’
Sabrina suddenly felt more held and respected than she had done in a long, long time. What a man Conor Brady was. He had found out who she was, and there was no drama. He had realised that her secret had a reason and that reason was no business of his and more importantly, even though he had found out she had lied to him, he had understood and treated her no differently. He cared aboutherfeelings and what was going on for her. Yes, Dominic may have driven all night to see her in his fancy car, but this wonderful man, on realising how distressed she was, had got on a bike and ridden miles in the dark on steep and treacherous roads to be with her. His actions had spoken more than a million words, and maybe it was time she started listening to them.
‘I’m going to admit it now: I have a huge fucking crush on Polly Malone. I mean, those leather skirts she wears. Fire! And a Best Villain award! Literally, that does it for a Brady.’
Sabrina’s jaw dropped and she felt her cheeks flush. ‘You can’t be saying that.’
He laughed loudly. ‘Not going to lie, I Googled your passport name, and despite your acting name being Sabrina Swift and not Jillian Swift, with you being so famous and all, pretty Polly obviously came up. Well, a whole bunch of photos did anyways. I didn’t know of you. I don’t care you’re an actress. To me you’re Dickens, kind, slightly scatty, vulnerable, friendly, intelligent and a good laugh.’
Sabrina put her hand to her chest. ‘I’m sorry I lied to you. Or rather, didn’t tell you the whole truth. Really, though, you’ve known the real me– Jilly– all along, and not the fake Sabrina persona I use with the rest of the world. It’s felt amazing to be known for just me– even if I couldn’t tell you what it meant to me before.’
‘You’re an amazing girl and I’m sorry you’ve been though such shit– that ex of yours is a fool. Is that why you’re upset?’
‘No, the plot has thickened. Oh, Conor, I want to tell someone, but it must have the Brady seal of silence on it.’
