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stupid route to one of his premieres. He was learning a speech in the back of the limo, and I thought to myself, he doesn’t know London like I do. I’ll just drive the quickest way, and he’ll thank me for getting him there faster.
    ‘So I took my own route, an d guess what happened? Paps blocked the road, and we spent an hour stuck in traffic with cameras banging on the windows. Marc knew the paps would be there, of course. He’d planned a back route for us, but I thought I knew best.’
    ‘Was he angry?’ I ask.
    ‘No. He just said it was a lesson to trust him in future. And I always have.’

12
    When we reach the theatre, Keith drives the car right up to the stage door so there are only inches between us and the security guards. Then he gets out and checks the security guards’ IDs. Only then does he let me out of the car.
    I still get a shiver of fear when I see that stage door, but little by little I’m learning to let the past go.
    ‘Thanks Keith,’ I say , climbing out of the car.
    ‘Marc asked me to pick you up after your show tonight,’ Keith says. ‘And drive you straight to your dad’s house.’
    I chew at my thumbnail again. ‘Will Marc be with you? When you come to pick me up?’
    ‘He didn’t mention it . But don’t worry. I’m sure he won’t let you out of his sight for long. I’ve never seen him so wrapped up in anybody, and I’ve known him a long time.’
    *****
    Inside the theatre, I head up to the auditorium and find Leo lounging on the stage, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a glazed doughnut in the other. A box of pink, brown and yellow doughnuts sits beside him.
    ‘My leading lady !’ Leo gestures to the space beside him. ‘I got you espresso. It sounded like you could use waking up earlier.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I sit d own on the stage and pick up a tiny takeaway espresso cup, wrapping my fingers around the hot cardboard.
    ‘Doughnut ? I bought a heart-shaped one, just for you.’ Leo pushes the box towards me with his flip-flopped foot. His feet are golden brown, and a little roughed up around the edges – surfer’s feet.
    I think about what Marc said earlier, about Leo being irresponsible. I can imagine that, when Leo was a teen actor, he could have been a little too carefree . And he still is, in a way. But that doesn’t mean he’s not a good person.
    I shake my head. ‘Thanks, but I had a pretty big breakfast.’
    ‘The breakfast of love, huh?’ Leo says, taking a bite of his doughnut.
    I don’t reply .
    ‘Uh oh. You and Marc on the rocks again?’
    ‘I don’t think so,’ I say. ‘But something is going on.’
    ‘Would it have anything to do with all the extra security guards around the place?’ Leo asks. ‘They frisked me this morning before I could enter the theatre. And I’ve got to give some dumb password at the door and show my driver’s licence.’
    I laugh.
    ‘What’s going on?’ Leo asks.
    ‘I wish I knew.’ I take a tart sip of espresso and wince. It’s too strong for me, but the caffeine is welcome. I should love strong coffee, coming from an Italian background, but I don’t.
    My mother used to adore espresso. I remember her buying this huge silver espresso maker for our tiny cottage kitchen. ‘I miss real Italian coffee,’ she’d said. She maybe used the machine once. Then it gathered dust on top of the kitchen cupboards, just like her sandwich toaster, ice-cream maker and a zillion other gadgets.
    ‘You look very beautiful this morning, Sophia,’ says Leo.
    I blush. ‘Leo —’
    ‘Oh come on. You must know you’re beautiful, in that natural, Disney-eyed, butter-wouldn’t-melt sort of way. A million guys must have told you so.’
    ‘No t really.’ I take another sip of my espresso and wince again.
    ‘A little strong for Miss whiter than white?’ Leo grins.
    ‘Whoever said I was whiter than white?’
    ‘I did ,’ says Leo, ‘but then again, you’ve hooked up with Marc Blackwell, so I guess you can’t be all that