Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - I've just borrowed them from SM to have fun with - enjoy xx
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE - Regrets, Revelations and Raving Lunatics
London, Wednesday night, as Edward was flying back to LA:
Bella took her final bow while clutching a huge bouquet of yellow roses, then made her way off-stage with the rest of the cast. Her first night had been a triumph, with every aspect of her performance as near to perfection that it didn't matter. Her supporting cast of British actors had been as accomplished as their Broadway counterparts, and the audience of critics and other invited worthies of the British stage had been responsive and appreciative. The applause was still going on after ten curtain calls, but the lights had been put on in the auditorium, signalling to the audience that ten curtains was enough and they were all to go home.
Bella accepted the congratulations of the cast as they hugged and kissed her as she made her way backstage. She in turn thanked them all, saying over and over she would be nothing without them, then escaped to the quiet sanctuary of her dressing room. Unlike the New York production the cast were saving their 'first night' party until after Saturday's performance as Sunday was a day off; so at least she didn't have to smile, look happy and be friendly any more that evening.
On her dressing table by the mirror was a small posy of yellow roses she had brought with her when she arrived that afternoon. Next to the flowers in a silver frame was a grainy photograph of her grandmother, Eleanor Swan, which was taken when she was about nineteen. Eleanor was dressed in traditional Shakespearean costume and Bella smiled wistfully at the picture, wondering what her grandmother would have thought about tonight's performance, with the cast dressed in 1930's garb, delivering the sacred prose with Yankee accents.
Her dresser came in and helped her remove her costume, then took it away to be cleaned and pressed. Her make-up girl followed, and swiftly removed the layers of make-up that had taken forever to put on, then disappeared with a cheery wave and "see you tomorrow, Miss Swan."
She opened a drawer and pulled out her purse and cell phone that had been switched off during the performance. She pressed the on button, and was greeted with a happy cheery tune, which didn't reflect how she was feeling right now. There were four text messages; one from her mother which she would read later, one from Angela telling her to 'break an arm' (she meant leg), and two from Alice; the first to say she had taken her advice and would be going with Jasper to LA, and the second, sent just as Alice was boarding the flight, to say 'Good Luck' and that Edward seemed to be okay.
Bella slung the phone across the dressing table and felt the first tear roll down her cheek.
"I want him," she whimpered out loud; then she buried her face in her hands and sobbed, allowing two days of regret and frustration to pour out along with her tears. After a while she stopped crying and sat up, then she flung her arms around herself, imagining it was Edward's strong arms around her instead and he was holding her so tight that all the broken pieces of her heart were fusing back together.
"I love him," she whispered, as she stared at her tear-stained reflection in the mirror.
She picked up her cell phone and found Alice's text and hit reply.
"I've been a f-ing idiot, Alice," she wrote. "I don't know what to do. Please help me."
She hit send, then put her head on the dressing table and wept quietly again until there was a knock on the door to tell her that her car had arrived to take her back to the hotel. She quickly washed and dried her face, then put her outdoor clothes on, cursing that she hadn't brought any dark glasses with her, then picked up the large bouquet of roses and headed out the door.
"Are you okay, Miss Swan?" the chauffeur said when he saw her. Despite her efforts to clean herself up, it was obvious to anyone she had been crying.
"Yes, John," she replied. "I always get very emotional after first performances. I wish my grandmother was still here to see them; she only died last year and I really miss her."
"I'm so sorry," John replied, sympathetically. "I'm a granddad already, even though I'm sure you think I don't look old enough! I get so much joy out of my little nippers."
Bella giggled as John winked at her as he shut the car door, then she relaxed her head back against the soft leather seat and closed her eyes. Soon she would be in her cold, lonely bed, while Edward was thousands of miles away in sunny California. Suddenly, her career didn't seem so important to her as it did on Tuesday morning.
LA: Thursday afternoon (eight hours behind London)
Edward stared at his laptop and re-read the line again.
'When she died I went to a tattooist and had a tiny yellow rose tattooed on my hip, as a reminder that she's always with me.'
and he knew.
He knew it hadn't been a dream; he had made love to Bella and suddenly he felt hot all over, like tongues of flame were licking his skin and he was about to spontaneously combust. A feeling of delirious elation overwhelmed him and he wanted to shout at the top of his voice, but no words came to him that could adequately convey what he was feeling at that moment.
He recalled Bella standing in the half light of the doorway telling him she needed him.
He saw her slipping her nightshirt off, standing in front of him naked, then cradling his head in her arms as he nuzzled her breasts.
He felt the weight of her when he pulled her on top of him, then re-lived kissing her deeply; experiencing a feeling of pure joy as she hitched her leg over his hip, effectively giving him permission to touch every part of her body, then he brought her to orgasm, staring in wonder as she fell to pieces in his arms.
The memory of the moment when he entered her for the first time caused Edward to whimper, as he relived the sensation of being inside her; moving gently at first, but gradually building to a crescendo of power and abandonment, before releasing inside her. Then the come-down, when he buried his face in Bella's hair and knew, for the first time in his life, what pure happiness and contentment felt like.
"It was real," he whispered to himself, as he looked in wonder at the photograph of the girl on the stage with her bouquet of flowers.
Edward got up from the desk and stared out of the window at the blue Californian sky.
"Am I dreaming this?" he asked himself; but he knew, for definite this time, that he was wide awake and Alice's hypnotic arts had no hold over him anymore.
He turned back to the article and read the whole page again, just in case he had mis-read the critical line. But it was there in black and white. Bella had a tattoo of a yellow rose, and there was no way he would have known that if he hadn't noticed it on her hip, and had kissed it when he made love to her.
Edward looked at the clock on his Mac and the time showing was just after two in the afternoon, which meant it was ten in the evening in London. Bella would still be on stage, so he knew he couldn't call her until after the performance. He had already decided he wasn't prepared to wait almost three months to see her, or even three days. Three hours or three minutes was still too much time for him, but unless the Starship Enterprise's transporter was on hand to beam him from LA to London in an instant, the quickest he could get back to Bella would be by tomorrow evening, London time. It was a no-brainer though; he was going back.
"Shit!" he said out loud. "I don't know how to book a flight to London!"
He had never, ever, organised his own travel in his life, as it had always been done for him. He sat down in front of his Mac and typed 'Flights to London' into Google, and hundreds of options appeared in front of him. He panicked.
"Jasper!" he said, and flipped his phone open and called his number.
Alice answered instantly, as she guessed that Edward would want to question her about what she knew and how she knew, so she was surprised when Edward yelled down the phone.
"I need to book a flight – NOW, Alice."
"Where to?" Alice replied, innocently.
"You know fucking where; can you do it for me?"
"Yes, Edward. Just stay on the phone while I get the right Google page up, and while I'm doing that, go and get your passport number. I presume you want to fly first class?"
"I don't care; whatever flight is quickest, Alice. I'll fly any airline, any seat, any cost."
"Okay, let's see; United Airlines have got a direct red-eye flight from LAX; you can sleep all night then. Take off at nine this evening, thirteen hour flight, so that would land at Heathrow at ten in the morning LA time, which would be six in the evening in London."
"Book it."
"How?"
"Shit, you need my credit card details, hang on."
"Calm down, Edward. You've got plenty of time to get to the airport. Give me your card details; only pack a carry-on bag and your passport, and with luck you'll be outside the stage door when Bella finishes her performance tomorrow night. If there are no delays, you might even get to see her perform."
"It's sold out."
"I somehow think you could talk your way in, Edward."
Edward laughed. "Thanks, Alice, and thanks for sending me the article."
"Shut up, Edward, or we'll be timed out on the computer. Now give me your credit card details and your passport number, then get off the phone and book yourself a cab."
While Edward was running around his house collecting the essentials for his carry-on bag, and calling the kennel to tell them to hang onto his dog for a while longer, Alice was dancing around Jasper's apartment in glee, and Bella was just going back on stage for the curtain calls after her second successful performance.
Much earlier in London: Thursday morning
Bella had slept fitfully after her London debut. It was just starting to get light outside and she was lying in bed feeling physically exhausted, but her mind was working overtime. Her thoughts skipped between recalling incidents from her performance where she felt she could have played a scene better, to why she had run away from Edward on Tuesday morning when she could have stayed in Alice's bed, wrapped in his arms. She thrust her knuckles into her eye sockets, determined not to have another crying session like last night, fearful she was gradually turning into an emotional wreck.
She accepted that Angela was right; she hadn't given Edward the chance to prove he was nothing like David and that he probably wouldn't have expected her to play second fiddle to his career. She had presumed he would make demands on her for time that she wasn't able to give, or for sex that she would be too exhausted for either of them to enjoy. She had immediately dropped the shutters without talking to him about what he would expect from her if they started a relationship. Now he had gone back to LA, and Alice had said that he seemed okay when he got on the plane, and that comment had really upset her.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand; it was five thirty in the morning, so she had been in bed less than six hours. She needed at least another two hours sleep, so she closed her eyes again and made a concerted effort to switch off, but it was hopeless, as an image of Edward's face as he was making love to her was there, lurking under her eyelids, refusing to fade away. In the end she gave up and got up, showered, wrapped herself in a soft, toweling robe and called room service to ask them to bring her up a fruit salad, pancakes, and lots of tea.
About an hour later she was brushing her hair when the hotel phone rang. She picked up the receiver and the receptionist apologized for disturbing her so early, but asked whether she would take an urgent call from her mother.
"That's strange," she thought. "It must be the middle of the night on the east coast; must be something serious. God, I hope Dad's okay."
"Thank you, yes, put her through," she said to the receptionist, and waited nervously for a few seconds, then heard her mother's high pitched voice that sounded quite hostile."
"Isabella!"
"Yes, Mom, what do you want, and why are you up so late at night?"
"I'm in Hawaii with your father; we're just about to go to dinner. You didn't answer my text; have you lost your cell phone?"
"Oh, right, sorry. I mean, I got your text after I came off stage last night and I was exhausted. I was going to reply today."
"Did you read my text?"
"No, why?"
"I wanted to know why you are avoiding David? He's traveled thousands of miles to see you, and you haven't had the courtesy to spend any time with him. I understand you told the hotel to tell him you'd checked out."
Bella bit her lip to stop herself telling her mother it was 'none of her eff-ing business', but instead she calmly said,
"Was there anything else?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I'm just recovering after my opening night with the RSC in London; something I've been working towards my whole life. So, perhaps a 'congratulations' or a 'well done', something like that, wouldn't have gone amiss. You are my mother, and hopefully should be proud of me?"
"Don't be sarcastic and don't change the subject. Now, why are you avoiding David?"
Bella couldn't contain herself any longer.
"Because he's a weirdo, Mom."
"What on earth are you implying? Don't be ridiculous, Isabella?"
Bella drew a deep breath and thought, "What the hell, she's asked for it; so she's going to get it, with both barrels."
"If you really want to know the sordid facts, Mom, he only liked sex doggy style and would only do it in front of a mirror so he could look at himself doing it. And if you really want to know all the juicy details, he never once got me off with his dick, which is tiny by the way. So the thought of living an unfulfilled life, with dick-less David who didn't deliver, didn't do it for me!"
"Sex isn't everything, my dear."
"Which is why I'm an only child, no doubt?"
"Isabella! David's a good man and a brilliant lawyer, and your father and I like him very much."
"Well, that's too bad, Mom, because I've met another good man. In fact, I've met a fucking amazing man, and he's everything I've ever wanted in a man."
"And you've no doubt had sex with him?"
"No, Mom, I haven't; what we have done though is made love, which is infinitely different to sex, and probably something you've never experienced. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do."
"Isabella!"
"Unless you're going to ask me about the play, or wish me good luck, I don't think we've anything more to say right now."
Bella waited about five seconds for a response, which didn't come, so she said, "Goodbye, Mom, enjoy your dinner," and flipped her phone off.
"Aaaaaargh!" she yelled, and flung her hairbrush across the room, then collapsed onto the bed and started laughing almost hysterically.
"Dick-less David who didn't deliver, didn't do it for me!" Alliteration in its finest form; my English teacher would be very proud," she giggled.
Bella decided to spend the day in the hotel as she accepted it was time she re-charged her batteries. She went to the spa and had some treatments and basically gave her body some much-needed TLC. She spent part of the afternoon reading reviews on the internet, and they were five stars almost across the board. Even though she didn't pay much attention to paid critics, she was thrilled for the cast who had worked so hard. She also started reading a book that Angela had loaned her and the afternoon flew by. By the time she had to start thinking about getting ready to leave the hotel for the theater, she was feeling much more relaxed and was not as tired as when she woke up this morning. Now she felt mentally and physically prepared for the evening's performance.
At about half past five, reception called to say her car had arrived to take her to the theater, so she gathered her things together and went down to the foyer in the elevator. As she was walking towards the main door she could hear a disturbance happening in the manager's office and security guards were milling about, ushering guests quickly through. One security guard, who was the size of a small mountain, shielded her as she walked past the glass door of the office, and stayed with her until she got in the car. She thought this was a bit odd, but didn't think any more of it during the drive to the theater.
Her second performance went very well and the standing ovations were as enthusiastic as the previous night and Bella went back to her dressing room feeling elated this time. She flipped open her cell phone after her dresser had gone, but there were still no messages which made her feel sad for a moment. But it was early days and maybe Edward was thinking about contacting her at the weekend after her first few performances were behind her.
She heard a knock, and a muffled voice called that her car was waiting for her, so she opened the door to leave, without thinking there was anything amiss. Standing in the dim and narrow backstage corridor, with his arms stretched across the doorway preventing her escape, was David.
"Hello, Isabella," he said, in a condescending and slightly menacing manner. "You've been avoiding me, haven't you?"
David pushed her back into the room and slammed the door hard behind him, then stood with his back against it with his arms folded. His posture was intimidating, and Bella's instincts warned her that she needed to be on her guard, as the David that was standing in front of her was not the person she knew from the past.
"What the hell are you doing here, David?" she hissed. "Get out before I call security."
"And how are you going to do that, sweet girl? I can't see any alarm bells in here, so we're all alone; how exciting is that?"
"I'll call for help if you come anywhere near me. Now just get out, and don't come back."
"Oh, Isabella, you don't really mean that. I'm sure you've missed me, and now I'm here in this nice room with a very big mirror. You like mirrors, don't you Isabella? You like fucking in front of them? You like seeing me behind you, fucking you like an animal?"
"Get out, David, or I'm going to scream, and believe me, my voice is very well trained for projection. They'll hear it out on the street."
With that, David lunged at her and pinned her to the dressing table, banging Bella's head against the edge of the mirror. She tried to push him off, but he was tall and heavy and she was no match for his strength. He tried to kiss her as she was struggling, but Bella head-butted him on the chin, which only made him angrier. She could smell alcohol on his breath and his shirt was stained with drink. His clothes reeked of cigarettes and a pungent cologne and she thought she could feel his erection pressing against her thigh.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a large can of hairspray by the mirror, so she flung her left arm out, grabbed it, and whacked David hard across the back of his head. He shrieked in pain and loosened his grip on her for a brief second, which gave her enough time to see where the hole in the nozzle was. She pointed it at his face and sprayed a long jet of liquid directly into his eyes.
David's hands instantly let go of her and he shot them up to cover his face. "You fucking bitch; I'm going to kill you for that," he hissed.
Bella spotted a fire alarm panel by the door and flung the can at it, breaking the glass, which set the fire alarm off. All hell broke loose in the theater, as everyone who was left in the building started heading for the exits, which is when Bella started screaming. Within seconds her dressing room door burst open, and two burly stage hands, who guessed what was going on straight away, dragged David out into the corridor, pinning him to the ground after accidentally-on-purpose thumping him in the kidneys and re-aligning his jaw.
The theater manager was quickly on the scene and called the police, then went into the dressing room to comfort Bella who was shocked but otherwise unhurt, apart from a small bump on the head.
"Do you know this man?" the stage manager asked.
"Yes. He's my ex-fiancé, I'm embarrassed to say."
Bella correctly guessed that it was probably David who had caused the disturbance in the hotel manager's office earlier, and she was furious they hadn't warned her he was still around. She was also livid with her mother, who had probably contacted David after their conversation that morning, so she could tell him that she hadn't checked out at all and was still at her original hotel. He had probably been demanding to see her, resulting in the confrontation with the hotel manager.
David had definitely lost all reason, and as he was lying on the ground being held down by the stage hands, Bella couldn't recognize this person as the man she was once engaged to, as at this point in time Bella thought he genuinely looked deranged.
"Were you expecting him to be here this evening, Miss Swan?" the theater manager asked.
"No. He's been hanging around my hotel trying to see me, but I've managed to avoid him up until now. How did he get to my dressing room?"
"We don't know; we're going to examine the CCTV and see if he got in with a legitimate ticket from the front of house or through the stage door. Someone is going to get their arse kicked tonight for allowing him to get backstage, whatever. I'm sorry we've let you down, Miss Swan. I assure you it won't happen again."
Bella smiled at the manager and told him not to be too hard on his staff. She didn't want anyone to get into trouble, as she knew how convincing and devious David could be.
Within ten minutes the police had arrived and took a statement from Bella before allowing her to leave with John the chauffeur. David was taken off in an ambulance but under arrest for actual bodily harm, however he counter-accused Bella of an unprovoked attack after she had invited him into her dressing room, and he was going to sue her for assaulting and possibly blinding him. The police called Bella the next day to tell her not to worry about any sort of counter-charge, as after taking her statement they checked with her hotel, who confirmed they had ejected David several times from their premises and twice that day.
Bella didn't get back to the hotel until well after midnight. As she closed the door to her suite she was overwhelmed by the feeling that she had never felt so alone in her whole life. She leant against the door and slowly slid down until she was curled up in a ball with her arms around her knees, and then she began to cry.
She guessed that Edward and Alice were back in California by now, and Angela, she presumed, had returned to her cottage in Cambridge. Bella just wanted to be hugged and comforted; to feel someone's, anyone's, arms around her, and for someone to tell her that everything was going to be alright. Instead, she was alone, in a lonely room, in a foreign city, and nobody was there to hold her.
Tears poured from her eyes as she accepted her situation was of her own making. If she hadn't walked away from Edward on Tuesday morning, leaving him sleeping in Alice's apartment, or if she hadn't been so clinical with her words in that note, he may have been lying on that bed waiting for her to walk through the door, and then he would have comforted her until the shock from being attacked subsided. She stared at the empty bed, willing him to be there, so she could run into his arms and he would hold her, and then they would make love all night long.
But he wasn't there, and it was nearly one in the morning before she stopped crying and got undressed. Even though she was exhausted, she took a sleeping tablet before she got into to bed, just in case his face haunted her thoughts again. But after face-planting herself on the most comfortable mattress in the world, she was asleep in seconds before the pill had a chance to take effect.
LA: Thursday night
Edward was at LAX, pacing up and down the first class lounge. His flight had been delayed by over an hour already and he was getting more and more agitated as the minutes ticked by. He wanted to meet Bella outside the theater, or inside if he could gain access, so he needed to get from the airport into central London quickly.
Then a light bulb lit up in his head – Leon! Taxis could get through London traffic faster than hired limo's, and if he could get Leon to meet him at the airport, then he wouldn't have to stand in a mile-long taxi queue. He had Leon's number in his wallet, so he fished the scrappy piece of paper out of one of the compartments and tapped the number into his phone. No luck, just one long tone. Then he remembered he had to put in the +44 code for the UK, so after smacking himself on the forehead, he dialed the longer number. After about ten seconds of dead silence it connected.
"Hello."
"Is that you, Leon?"
"Who is this?"
"It's Edward Cullen."
"Hi, Edward, do you need picking up? I'm near Piccadilly at the moment, stuck in early morning traffic."
Edward laughed. "I do need picking up, but I'm in Los Angeles airport; a bit out of your way."
Leon chuckled. "What can I do for you then; do you need picking up from Heathrow?"
"Yes, but can you get access to the VIP pick up point to meet me?"
"Sure, what time are you due in?"
"It'll be early evening tomorrow, your time, but my flight has been delayed, so I don't know exactly when. I'll text you my flight number so you can get a landing time."
"I'll do my best, Edward. Phone me when you land, I'll be there."
"Leon, can you do one more thing for me?"
"Course I can; anything for you. Our car chase through London is the talk of all the cabbies, and my daughter is just beside herself because she's going to meet you."
"Great, I need you to get some things for me so they're in the cab. I can't get them at the airport, so can you help?"
Edward told Leon what he wanted, then noticed that his flight was being called.
"I've got to go now, Leon; see you in about thirteen hours."
"No worries mate; consider it done."
Edward made his way onto the aircraft and prayed there would be no more delays. If everything went to plan, in less than fourteen hours he should be back with the girl he should never have left in the first place.
But in Edward's life, things never go to plan.
A/N
So Edward is on his way to London. Luckily Dick-less David is in custody, or there may have been another hostile confrontation like the one at Bella's hotel.
What do you think Edward is asking Leon to get for him? You'll soon find out if you carry on reading.
The next chapter is very long (6k + words), so turn off the phone, throw the husband/ partner/ lover/ kids/ friends out the house/ apartment/ office/ garden shed; get yourself comfortable, get your coffee/ tea/ wine topped up, have a box of tissues ready, and hit that 'next' button.
Joan xx