Scripted Reality

by Karen Frances

  “Mr Andrews, can I help?” I open my eyes and see the concerned look of the doorman. I don’t need anyone to see me like this.

  “I only need help with the lifts.”

  “Of course.” Silence fills the air until I hear the ping of the lift. Footsteps ring loudly in my ears and hushed voices speak around me. I sense the movement of the lift and my body wriggles in Connor’s hold. I want him to let me go. I don’t want him or anyone to see me right now.

  Pushing my hands against his chest, I attempt to wriggle from his hold, but he only grips onto me tighter.

  A door opens and lights are switched on. I open my eyes to see we’re in our suite. Connor still has me in his arms and walks toward the bedroom. He gently lowers me to the bed and I close my eyes because we’re not alone in the room. “Please, I want to be on my own,” I whimper, turning my back to even Connor.

  “Sorry, Ella. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Mr Andrews, I think we should get a doctor for the cut on her hand. It looks as though there’s something in it.”

  “Can you arrange for a doctor to come here?”

  “Consider it done.” I hear heavy footsteps crossing the carpeted floor.

  “Ella, it’s only you and me now. Talk to me, please. I can’t help or understand if you don’t explain.”

  I turn over and lie on my back. His eyes are sad; he’s clearly unsettled by what’s happening. “That wasn’t the first time I’ve felt strange, as though someone’s watching me. I know you must think I’m crazy, but honestly, I’m not. I know he was near.”

  “I believe you,” he says, stroking the side of my face. His attention soon turns to my hand. “It does look as though there’s something in this cut. Maybe just a small stone.” My eyes follow his and he might be right. I should get up and attempt to clean it.

  My phone buzzing has me scanning the room for my handbag. Connor bends down and picks it up from the floor. He takes my phone and stares at the screen, his eyes wide, looking in disbelief. I already know it’s either a call or message from Donovan.

  “Tell me?”

  “He’s sent some pictures of today. A few from Kensington Park, the restaurant, and from outside in the street.”

  I grab my phone from his hands and swipe through each of the pictures. My lips tremble and I can’t form any words. What is he hoping to achieve from this? My hand shakes as I get to the last picture; me in Connor’s arms as he carries me back to the safety of our hotel.

  But is our hotel safe? Why do I feel as though I’m being punished? I’ve not done anything wrong. Or have I?

  “Trevor, can you come to the hotel? . . . We have a problem . . . Donovan fucking Bell.” I look at Connor through my tear-filled eyes. “I’ll forward you what Ella has been sent.”

  My phone beeps in my hand and I open the message from Donovan. No pictures, only his words.

  Not so strong now. I’ve been keeping my eye on you and will continue to do so. You don’t belong to him.

  You have and will always belong to me.

  Connor snatches the phone from my hands and reads the message. “Ella, he’s playing games. He can’t hurt you,” he says, joining me on the bed and wrapping his arms protectively around me, but I’m not feeling safe and his words aren’t helping my growing fears.

  Donovan is going to do whatever he can to hurt me and that alone frightens me.

  “ARE YOU GLAD TO BE home?” Connor asks as we enter my house and I switch off the alarm.

  “Yes. I’ve had a great time with you.” I spin around to face him in the hallway. “But I had forgotten how tiring it can get. And then there’s all the other stuff.” Donovan played heavily on my mind as we travelled home. Neither of us has heard from him since his last text message yesterday. I know he’s playing games and trying to upset me, and I’ve let him. So he’ll now be thinking he’s winning.

  Today is a new day, and I’m trying to put on a brave face.

  “I know what you mean.” He lifts my right hand and studies the white gold and diamond bracelet that he insisted on buying me yesterday when we went shopping. Not only did he buy the bracelet, but there was another gift box in the bag when I opened it last night. Diamond stud earrings, and they are beautiful. We had a small disagreement about them which took my mind off another man, if only for a short time. “It suits you.”

  “I love it, and the earrings. Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to keep saying thank you, but I’ll happily sit back and allow you to show your appreciation later, if you feel up to it,” he teases. Donovan managed to ruin what plans I had for our evening together. I’m sure we were both looking forward to a cosy evening last night.

  “Oh, I don’t know if I feel up to it,” I tease. “I’m sure your wait will be worth it.”

  “Spoil sport.” I pick up the mail that’s lying on the sideboard; my dad must have been here over the weekend, or maybe it was Callum. As I turn my back to him, Connor playfully slaps my arse. I’m not even going to respond. Leaving him laughing in the hallway, I flick through the mail as I walk through to the kitchen. There doesn’t look to be anything too important, although . . .

  My fingers shake and I freeze in the middle of the kitchen, dropping all the letters on the floor as though I’ve just burnt my hand. I stare at the pile and I see it clearly. The writing stares back at me. I would know it anywhere.

  “Will we just order a takeaway for dinner? It’s been too long a day and I know I don’t want to start cook . . .” Connor stops talking as he bangs into me. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His eyes dart from me to the floor and he gets it. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! What is wrong with him?”

  He takes his phone from his pocket and makes a call. He paces anxiously from one foot to the other, waiting for someone to answer. “Donovan, call me. We need to talk,” he finally says when I presume the call goes to voicemail.

  “What the hell were you going to say to him if he answered?” I shout at him, confused.

  “I don’t know, but I can’t stand back and watch him torment you at any chance he gets, because that’s what he’s doing.” He steps toward me, ignoring the mess of letters on the floor. “Ella, you can’t let him win.”

  “Can you call Trevor and my dad? I’m going to have a shower,” I say, walking away from him.

  “Ella,” he calls after me, but I don’t turn back. I don’t mean to be distant or hurt him, I’m just trying to give myself a bit of space, a few minutes to myself. To clear my mind. To rid my head of all thoughts of Donovan Bell because I know he’s trying to drag me back down. But I’m not letting him. I need to sort this mess out once and for all.

  Ensure he stays out of my life.

  I’m disappointed Connor didn’t come up the stairs, but I get that he’s probably giving me the space I so desperately need. Time alone with my thoughts, to sort my head out. I’ve been upstairs longer than I had planned, but I think I’m in a better frame of mind now than I was earlier. I hear everyone’s voices as I near the bottom of the staircase; Trevor, my dad, Callum, and Connor.

  Connor is the only person standing as I enter the kitchen and pause; the others are all sat around the island. Connor turns, facing me, and crosses the short space between us. I wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “It’s fine,” he says, rubbing my back and holding me tightly. I could stay in his arms forever. “Are you ready to talk?”

  “Yes.” He keeps one arm around me and we walk over to the others, who are all watching us. Connor pulls a chair out and releases his hold of me and I sit down. The letter that I dropped from Donovan lies before me. “Have you opened it?” I ask.

  “No. Sweetheart, are you okay?” my dad asks, sounding worried.

  “Does she look okay?” Callum shouts. And I thought I looked better; obviously not.

  “Callum!”

  “I’m okay, all things considered. It’s been a tough weekend.”

  “It sounds like it. Trevor and Connor ha
ve been keeping me up to date on everything. We have a lot to discuss.”

  I pick up the letter. Connor places his hands on my shoulders, offering me comfort. I smile up at him and draw strength from him, and slowly I open the envelope. I take a deep breath before I read it out.

  Dear Ella,

  This is the only way I can communicate with you, although I’m not even sure you’ll read it. This could be a complete waste of my time.

  We need to talk. I need to see you face-to-face. Alone, just me and you, without interruptions. I know I’ve fucked up but I want the chance to put this right. I need you as much as you need me. Please call me.

  I love you.

  Donovan

  “Is that it?” Callum asks, scraping his chair across the kitchen floor and walking over to the sink. He stands, his arms outstretched, leaning against the work surface and looking out of the window.

  “That’s it.”

  “Ella.” It’s Trevor’s voice I turn back to as Connor still holds me. “I’ve seen the messages and pictures Donovan has sent you and I can only advise you that you have to take this further and not have any contact with him.”

  “Trevor is right. As much as I want nothing more than to come face-to-face with him and smack him in the mouth, I’m not willing to put you in harm’s way. Donovan has gone to a lot of effort over the weekend to follow your movements and frighten you. I think it’s time to take this further, sweetheart. We need to call the police. We also need to keep tabs on him, find out where he is,” Dad says softly, and I know he wants to have someone look into his whereabouts. Have them follow him.

  Connor kneels down in front of me and clears his throat, but his eyes look sad. He reaches out, taking my hands in his, softly stroking his fingers along mine. “Ella, we don’t know what he’s capable of. We all want to keep you safe.”

  I look around my family and see the same look on each of their faces; a mixture of sadness and frustration. “Ella, here’s how it’s going to play out.” Callum’s deep voice echoes around the room. “You are going to do what you’re told for once. The police will be called. Dad will instruct Jonathon to do whatever he needs to do to find that piece of scum, and until we know what the hell he’s playing at, you won’t go anywhere alone.”

  “Hold on,” I protest, my voice raised. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

  “I can, and you’ll find we’re all in agreement about this,” Callum tells me at the same time Connor’s phone buzzes. He stands, taking it from his pocket, and reads the message he’s been sent.

  A sour taste fills my mouth and there’s a deep ache in the back of my throat as I look at Connor. He glares at his phone, nostrils flared, a slight reddening of his face. He drops his phone on the work surface before kneeling back before me. “Ella, we only want you to be safe and happy. I want you to be happy.” He’s holding something back.

  Callum lifts Connor’s phone and reads the message out loud. “You finally have what you’ve always wanted, but not for long. You can never make her truly happy. She’s not yours to keep.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone, and especially not him.” I stand, pushing Connor’s hands away, and walk away from the four of them. Opening the patio doors, I go outside. It’s starting to get dark and cold. The trees in the garden sway in the wind that seems to be picking up. I wrap my arms around me. I was so confident after my shower that I was going to deal with this head on, arrange to meet with Donovan if I have to, to ensure he stays away from me. What is it he wants from me?

  He doesn’t love me. Or want me in his life. If he did, he wouldn’t have done all the things he’s done to me, starting with the affair he had two years ago. Part of me wishes I didn’t know about that now. It’s just something else for me to feel angry about, and I don’t want to feel angry anymore.

  I just want to be happy and get on with my life without Donovan Bell popping up and playing his fucking mind games.

  “Hey, sis.”

  I turn, hearing Callum’s soft voice. “Did you get the short straw?” I ask as he wraps his arm around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder.

  “Something like that. Talk to me. What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know anymore. Earlier, I was feeling confident I wasn’t going to let his games affect me, because I know what he’s doing. We all do. But, if I’m honest, I’m scared. I never thought he’d stoop to following me and taking pictures, sending me message after message, and now he’s sending messages to Connor. Who will it be next?”

  “Ella, you haven’t done anything wrong and it’s okay to be scared. But I’d never let Donovan hurt you.”

  “He already has.”

  “You have to let us help.”

  “Help in what way? I’m sure Dad will organise a private investigator, but then what?”

  “Then you take out an injunction against him. That means he’ll be breaking the law if he continues to hound you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “There’s no maybe about it. You need him out of your life so you can move forward. Donovan is doing this because he’s lost clients in recent weeks, ever since you spoke out. People don’t want to work with him, and who can blame them when they think he’s going to swindle money from them.”

  This is news to me.

  “Here’s the thing. Your story made news here in the UK, but in the States, it’s still making news. Regardless of what you think about yourself as far as the industry is concerned, you are still one of the best actresses in the world at the moment.”

  Tears fall slowly down my face at his words, because it all hits home. Self-doubt has been a big thing for me in recent months. I thought I was over all this and putting it behind me, but I’ve not, not really. I love my career, but everything with Donovan has left me thinking I wasn’t good enough for him; that I had done something wrong. I believed that was why he did what he did.

  But Callum is right. Of course my situation was going to make headlines, especially in the States, where he’s based. It’s upsetting me to think that in the months leading up to the day Donovan left, I thought I wasn’t good enough in the industry because there had been no recent job offers.

  “Hey, it’s okay to cry. But you can’t allow him to control your life.”

  “I know that, but . . .”

  “Let Dad sort this, and as for Connor, you let that man into your heart. He’s hurting too because he feels useless. He wants to be there for you. To protect you. But I can see it, you’re already starting to push him away and that’s not fair. Do you know I’ve waited years for you to pick the right man? A man that loves you for who you are, not what you’re worth.”

  “Okay. I’ll let Dad do what he has to do, and as for Connor, I promise I’ll try not push him away.”

  “Good girl. Let’s go and tell them. We can call the police, and while we wait for them, you can tell us all about yesterday’s casting audition. Because I’ve already heard through the grapevine that they haven’t called Miss Hunter for hers after her stunt at the premiere.”

  I smile smugly and walk back inside with my brother who, for once in his life, seems to be talking sense.

  When did he get all grown up and wise?

  IT’S FOUR A.M. AND I’VE tossed and turned since I came to bed a few hours ago. Donovan has been at the forefront of my mind and I didn’t want to fall asleep thinking about him because, in the past, that’s only lead to a troubled sleep and nightmares.

  And I had nightmares about him for long enough. I don’t want to go back to the darkness and crying that consumed me night after night when I first found out what a mess he’d left me with. I know I’m better than that, but here I am, allowing him to have undeniable control over my life.

  I should get up because, if I lie here much longer, I’m going to wake Connor and that’s not fair on him. So far, he’s been understanding considering all I’ve wanted to do is push him away. And why have I been pushing him away? Because, in my head, if I push him away no
w, then it won’t hurt as much as it would months down the line when he decides I’m not worth the pain and trouble. I’m struggling to understand what he sees in me. I don’t get it. With me, there comes so much baggage.

  Pushing the bed covers from my body, I swing my legs off the bed.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks. I thought he was still sleeping.

  “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “So you thought it would be better sneaking out of my bed in the middle of the night? Ella, sneaking about and hiding doesn’t suit you. Come on. Back into bed and talk to me.”

  We do need to talk, or rather I need to talk to him, not shut him out. I need to be honest with him.

  He pulls me right beside him and I rest my head on his bare chest. The steady rhythm of his breathing is soothing at the best of times, but there’s something more. There’s a connection between us, and in moments like this, he makes me feel calm and want to stay with him forever.

  Forever. Is that really what I want? I don’t know. I’m not even sure how I feel about us, about him. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, and until my life is back to some sort of normality, I can’t think about what my feelings are for him.

  “Ella, please. I can’t help if you won’t talk to me.”

  “I’m not being fair on you. There’s too much going on in my life to even think about you. Us.”

  “Okay.” I hear the pang of sadness in his voice. “But at least you’ve acknowledged there is an us. Ella, I promised you I wouldn’t push you into anything you didn’t want to do. I told you we’d slow things down but you didn’t want that. I’ve given you control. Everything that’s happened between us is because it’s what you wanted. I can’t deny my feelings for you, and if you decide you want to go back to being friends, then we will. Because I love you enough to give you the space you need.” I lift my head. “Stay where you are. I don’t want to see sadness and regrets in your eyes. And I certainly don’t want the words said to me out of guilt, but for me, there’ll never be anyone else I could ever love. You’ve been it for me since our very first meeting five years ago. You deserve to be treated with respect and, in my opinion, that’s how he should’ve treated you. I can’t change the past, but if you allow me, I can shape our future.”