by Ani San
We stayed in the garden until Anna came back and told him it was time to go. He took my hand as we entered the house, and we walked together to the entrance on the other side. Anna was waiting by the door, with a small bag in her hand.
‘Thank you, Anna,’ Christopher said as he took the bag from her. ‘I will call you later. Can we please have some privacy?’
Anna went down the hall and into another room. Christopher dropped the bag on the floor as soon as she closed the door, and put his arms around me, pushing me closer. His lips lay soft in my forehead, and I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of him. I didn’t want him to leave. I locked my own arms behind him and raised my chin to look into his eyes.
‘It’s just one more night,’ he whispered, holding my gaze.
‘I know,’ I whispered back.
‘Then why is it so difficult to let go of you?’ he asked in the same low voice.
‘Because it’s a whole night,’ I said, trying to smile.
Then he gave me a light kiss on the lips and let go. I had no other choice than to let my arms falter as well, and they fell limbed to my sides. He grabbed his bag, and with no other words he was out the door. I leaned against the doorframe and watched him enter the black Mercedes. Charles nodded to me as he closed Christopher’s door, and seated himself at the front. The car was out of sight before it reached the gate, covered by heavy garden trees along the driveway.
I went to my room and changed back to my work clothes, determent to stay busy the rest of the day. It was past midnight when I finally caved and went to bed. I started the next day in the same routine as the other days, and stayed in the study all morning. Anna came in with lunch and a message from Christopher. I didn’t understand why he didn’t call me himself.
‘Mr Petrelli asked me to tell you that he won’t be getting back today, and that he will call you later to explain.’ She placed a tray with chicken sandwich and orange juice and left the room before I could gather myself enough to thank her.
I had to sit down. My mind was tuned in on the fact that I would see him soon. Now I had to readjust, and my mind didn’t want to cooperate. I was already looking forward to see him tonight, it was suppose to be a sure thing. I didn’t know if I could handle waiting any longer. If he wasn’t coming today, when was he coming? When will he call? Would he really call? I was still a little annoyed that he hadn’t called me earlier. Was he still in Nice? I couldn’t concentrate more on the picture, instead I cleaned my brushes with one eye on the phone. I carried the tray with food to my bedroom, and nibbled tiny bits of the sandwich whilst sitting on the bed. I couldn’t eat. My eyes were focused on the phone. It hadn’t made a single sound, but that didn’t stop me from checking for messages seven times the next half hour. I gave up the sandwich and put it on my nightstand, and lay back on the bed staring at the ceiling, debating to call him myself. The phone was held firmly on my chest, silent and hard. I must have fallen a sleep, because when the sound finally came, I couldn’t locate it. It stopped ringing before I realised it had fallen down on the floor. The room was darker, the sunlight was already disappearing behind the trees.
I looked at the display, seeing the words two missed calls. I remove the screen lock and hit the call back button, longing to hear his voice, longing for him to tell me that he is on his way. He didn’t of course. In stead he apologized in a stony voice that he had to travel to New York, and that he didn’t know how long it would take. I didn’t want to ask, but I had to know. So I asked him if it was because of Julia, if he was going to meet her. He denied it, but it seemed too much of a coincident. I was feeling jealous of his wife. Again. Stupid, but still, I did.
His voice became warmer as he asked how the painting was going, and I lay back on the bed while we talked about it and how I spent my days. I hadn’t told him what phrase I had chosen as a theme for the painting, I wanted to see his face when he read it, to see if he took the reference. He told me about the award ceremony, and asked if I had seen it on television. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me, I hadn’t watched TV since I got here. But I regretted it now. I wouldn’t have minded seeing him in a tux on stage with the other celebrities. Or maybe I would. Maybe seeing him in that environment would finally convince me that I was fighting a lost cause. Someone like him wasn’t meant to be with someone like me. I should get out before it was too late. In stead I held the phone closer, enjoying his voice and words. It was already too late. I just wished he were heading home instead of flying across the Atlantic.
Three days came and went without a word from Christopher. Not even a text. I had texted him the second day and asked how he was, but no answer. I saw Anna when she brought me food, but didn’t ask her if she had heard from him. The fourth day, I started packing. I had texted Christopher about the painting being finished, and I was half expecting him to call me as soon as he read it. But that was yesterday morning, and still no word. And now I was packing. It didn’t make sense to hang around when my assignment was done. My suitcase was standing ready in the bedroom, and I was in the study packing away my brushes when Anna stopped by. Or, I assumed it was Anna when I saw her in my peripheral vision. But it wasn’t like her to linger in the doorway, so I turned towards the figure and saw that it wasn’t Anna at all. Not by a long shot. I was staring into the coldest eyes I could imagine. Maybe I did imagine it, cause two seconds later, the figure was gone. I stood frozen, not sure what to do. Then my phone rang. I jumped to get it, and was relived by the name on the display.
‘Chris!’ I said as I exhaled. I could hear my own desperation and relief.
‘Sara, hey,’ he said, and his voice made my shoulder relax and the grip on the phone loosened a bit. ‘How are you?’ he continued conversationally, a phrase I could never quite get a grip on, because the Englishmen asked it like a question that sometimes didn’t require a literal response. I usually answer ‘Fine, how are you?’ but I didn’t care to waste the time now. I wasn’t fine, and I didn’t want to elaborate. I could answer him that I was scared shit, that I was close to a panic attack, that I was terrified of his wife, who I think just gave me the evil eye. Or I could say that I was missing him, and that I was disappointed that I hadn’t heard from him in four days. Neither response was suited for a phone conversation. In stead I just whispered in the phone.
‘Julia is here.’ I wondered if I had lowered my voice because I was afraid she was outside eavesdropping, or because I was afraid the phone was tapped, which was ridicules, because if it was, then whispering wouldn’t help. Christopher had asked me one time to restrain myself when we talked to each other on the phone, just in case, but he seemed to forget that himself sometimes. We had never discussed his wife on the phone, though. Actually, we rarely mention her at all. But I was scared of being in the same house as she without Christopher by my side, so I wanted to let him know.
‘I know,’ he answered. ‘I was held up at the airport, and didn’t know at first that she left without me. I was calling to warn you.’
His voice was light, but his words scared me. Why would he have the need to warn me? Was my paranoia reasonable? I could feel my pulse raising. My hand gripped the phone harder again.
‘Is she here to kill me?’ I asked, fighting to keep my voice light. I heard him laughed, and then tell me that he would be at the house in half an hour. It didn’t reassure me that he hadn’t rejected the possibility. Not that I truly believed Julia would harm me, at least not physically. But the woman did scare me, and I was doing her husband, so to speak. My hands were shaking as I hung up and finished up the packing. I almost jumped when I heard footsteps coming through the door and towards me, and was relived when I turned around and saw Anna. At least she didn’t scare me anymore. Staying here these past weeks had given me a sense of fondness towards the woman. Even though we hadn’t talked that much together, she took care of me and made sure I had everything I needed. She even loosened up and smiled genuine after a while. But she didn’t smile now. Instead she seemed, I don’t
know, maybe grim. Or reluctant. Maybe she was here to ask me to leave. Maybe Julia had told her I couldn’t stay. Which was fine by me, I couldn’t imagine staying here with Julia home. That would be too weird. And besides, the painting was done. I was leaving anyway. But I hoped I could stay until Christopher came back. I had told him I would be here, and he was supposed to be back soon.
‘I am sorry to disturb you, miss, but I have a request from Mrs Petrelli,’ she said in a professional and neutral voice.
I squeezed the last of my brushes in my hand. ‘That’s ok, Anna, I was just finishing up clearing my stuff.’ I wondered if she could hear the nervousness in my voice. Of course she was sent by the misses.
‘Julia asked if you would join her in the dining room for lunch.’
I hadn’t expected that. Have lunch with the dragon? The last time I had spoken with her, she had tried her best to put me on edge. Of course, I hadn’t known the story then, and was feeling a tad bit more ashamed of myself. Maybe she hadn’t meant any ill will; maybe my guilty conscious had interpreted the whole thing wrong. But did I have the courage to face her alone?
‘Christopher called and said he was on his way,’ I said, trying to find a way out of this.
‘Yes, she is aware of that, and would like to speak with you before he joins you.’
I didn’t have much choice in the matter, it seemed, so I lay the rest of my stuff in the box and followed her out the door. I wished I had an excuse to freshened myself up a bit. I was already wearing the nicest thing I had packed, since I hadn’t been planning on painting today. I had been saving it for when Christopher got back, and had put it on since it was my last day here. Now I whished I had packed something more posh. This dress was old and worn, and made me look like a young schoolgirl. Not someone close to Julia’s league. I would look lost beside her. But it was my favourite summer dress, and it fit my body perfect. It was a halterneck, fastened in the neck by a red ribbon. The white fabric was covered in dark blue patterns of flowers. The bodice was tight and the skirt flowy and knee length. I tried easing out some wrinkles while I followed Anna down the hall. I got a quick glimpse of myself in a mirror as we past, and tighten my ponytail. I wish I at least had the time to put on some make-up. It was funny how I fussed about my looks just because I was having lunch with another woman. Like it mattered how I looked. Like I cared what she thought. Like I could ever measure up to her standards. I tried really hard to concentrate on the fact that Christopher chose me. He was married to her, but he chose to be with me. That should count for something. If he was here. He should have been here by now. I should have staled.
Anna stopped in front of an open door, and waited for me to enter. I wanted to run in the opposite direction.
Chapter 11
«Even if you’re on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.»
- Will Rogers
I saw Julia the second I walked through the threshold. She was holding a phone to her ear, while standing by the window in the far end of a long, bright room. I recognized the room from my tour, but I had never been in here before. I remembered Anna had told me that this room was mainly used for the formal dinner occasions or meetings. The room consisted of a large wooden table with maybe twenty chairs around it. I took two steps and lay a hand on one of the chairs, not sure what to do. I heard Anna close the door behind me, leaving me alone with Julia. The room seemed to shrink in size. The low noise of the door closing got Julia to turn towards me, and she pointed apologetic to her phone before she turned back around. She was playing with a pearl necklace and looking out the window, watching the heavy rain and mumbling something occasionally. I wondered if I should go wait outside. My eyes started wandering, assessing the room. The décor was classic. The walls were painted in a blue-grey colour, and the wall facing the outside consisted of large windows that gave the room an open and light atmosphere. I still felt claustrophobic. My eyes kept drifting to Julia, who looked perfect as always. She was wearing a soft grey suit that looked spotless, and it made me wondered if she really had just returned from a twelve-hour flight. Even her hair looked perfect, pinned up in a tight bun. The ears had sparkling pearl earrings, and I could see her fingers had several bright rings in gold and silver. One of them the wedding ring. It didn’t bother me that much now that I knew the story. Oh hell, it did bother me. It symbolized that she had a claim on him, and I was the intruder. I knew I was living in a temporary dream world, but it was easier to pretend when I didn’t have to deal with reality. I knew I should try to get a long with Julia, and I could even imagine her to be a nice person if I would just give it a change. But the only thing I wanted now was to get out of this room, grab my things, and run back to my own apartment. It was time to jump of the cloud.
I heard Julia say goodbye to whomever and take the phone down, but she didn’t move. Instead she stood still for a few seconds, still staring at the rain. Then it was like she put on a mask, smiling sweetly as she turned to me and beckoned for me to sit at the far end of the table, where I could see the plating was set for three. A large jug of tempting lemonade was set on the table. I wondered if I could help myself, or if I was to wait until she offered.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Julia smiled and held up the phone before placing it beside her plate. Then she sat down and reached for my hands across the table.
The gesture startled me, but I managed to respond. Her grip was tight, and I wondered if she could tell that I was nervous.
‘How are you, Sara?’ she asked, in a tone that sounded like she really cared. She was all smile and friendliness, but it didn’t set me on ease.
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ I replied. ‘I hope you had a nice trip.’
She finally let go of my hands, and I leaned back in my chair. She leaned back also, keeping her eyes on me until I caved and looked down.
‘Oh, it could have been better,’ I heard her snicker. ‘So, how is the painting going? Do you think it will go on much longer?’
Was she really asking about the painting, or something else? I had to look up, but her face was still friendly smiles and all that.
‘I finished it yesterday, I think. Well, it’s obliviously up to Chris, I mean to the both of you, of course. If you want anything changed, I am sure I can do that.’
‘Oh, I’m sure we are satisfied. But it is up to Christopher, after all this is his project.’ Her tone was sweet and her words innocent, but I always assumed they had a double meaning. Her smile looked genuine, but I couldn’t shake the feeling she didn’t like me too much.
When I didn’t respond, she continued. ‘I don’t know how much Christopher has told you about us. Did you know we grew up together?’ I nodded.
‘I always knew I wanted to be an actress. I used to make Christopher dress up and play Romeo, or Mr Darcy or some romantic hero, and we would preform in front of family and friends. Christopher always did whatever I asked, following me around like a puppy. I knew he had a crush on me for years, but I didn’t realise I loved him back before it was time for collage. I was suddenly afraid to leave him, I was so used to having him around. So I begged my father to arrange for him to join me at Regents collage. My family is well situated financially, so it was no big deal. It was a fun time, college time was a blast. And we became inseparable, you know, the lovesick couple who always had their lips together and had sex everywhere.’
I couldn’t help but to look up hearing that, and she met my eyes with an evil smile. Or maybe I just imagine it. I didn’t want to hear this. I tried to come up with something to make her stop. But a part of me was curious too, I wanted to know what happened with them. What made them marry and stay married? So I didn’t respond to her words, or acknowledge that her sex comments bothered me.
‘We couldn’t keep our hands of each other,’ she continued ‘we spent every second together. I know now that it was too much. We got too depended on each other, too wrapped up in our own little world. But some how we made it trough college, and got
auditions and small acting jobs. We stared together in City of Roses, have you seen it?’ I shook my head.
‘It was a crappy movie, lousy script. But it got us on the red carpet, and from then it was all up hill. Suddenly we where plastered in magazines and tabloids, and got invited to all kinds of events and premieres. Our agent said it was because of the spark we had together, the fire between us. And then we played a married couple in Haven, which really got the train rolling. That movie I really loved. Did you know he proposed to me while on that set?’
She didn’t wait for my response, she was too wrapped up in her own tale. ‘We got married in Florence. It has always been such a special place for us. After the wedding we travelled more on our own, doing separate movies and promotions. It wasn’t an ideal situation, and we got to experience the dark side to the media exposure. We couldn’t leave the house without someone stalking us. They were everywhere. And the hardest times were when one of us was on locations half around the world. I could sit in a hotel room eating my breakfast and reading the newspaper, and suddenly see my husband in the arms of some bimbo. Can you imagine what it’s like to have the whole world know everything about your private life? I almost killed him. But we worked it out. We always work it out. He became more subtle, and the media backed off. After all, we did seem like the perfect couple. Did you know that in all these years, there have only been a few events were we didn’t attend together? He may have his distractions, but when it comes to it, we always appear happily married.’ I didn’t like the way her story went, she made him sound like a playboy. This was not the story he had told, and not the side I wanted to believe.
‘Chris told me you two weren’t in love anymore, and that you hadn’t been in love for years. That you were…’ I hesitated ‘… otherwise engaged.’