Welcome to the second part of a rather unusual Sanditon ball.

Sidney is still trying to end it all with Eliza.

Tom is in for a big surprise.

And Eliza is still being Eliza.

From Truth to Reality

"Manoel! Have you seen Eliza?"

Now that for once Sidney urgently wanted to talk to her, she was proving rather elusive. She had been called to the admission desk again to sort out some intruder, and judging by Manoel's facial expression, she had definitely explained to him how to run the service of a significant event. Instead of an answer, the F&B manager just shrugged his shoulders.

"I've seen her," Sidney heard Arthur say behind him. "She was on the way down to the kitchen," his brother added, happily finishing a mince pie. Sidney sighed. So there was going to be a discussion on the midnight-soup. Poor chef.

"Sidney?" Arthur said. "May I say something? Because it's Christmas, and if you can't say it at Christmas, when can you, eh?"

"Go on." They were not much prone to brother talk, but Arthur was right, this was Christmas.

"It's only… I admire your spirit of forgiveness. If it were me, I do not think I could bring myself to trust Eliza again after what she did eight years ago. I keep wondering… I keep wondering…"

"What's your point, Arthur?"

Arthur wiped some mince pie crumbs off his mouth. "I keep wondering whether maybe there's more to the story than meets the eye?" he asked, searching Sidney's gaze.

At least he did not mention Charlotte directly. "This is all about saving the hotel, Arthur," Sidney said through clenched teeth. And saving the hotel was not a matter of trust or forgiveness, but money. But that was nothing he wanted to trouble his brother with, just as he did not comment on the mince pie. It was Christmas, after all. And there was Diana to fuss about the youngest Parker brother and make sure he kept the diet his doctor had prescribed him.

"Sidney!" Tom, guarding the entrance with Mary, was waiving at him. And as they were talking to George Lambe and Number Three, Sidney walked over to them. Not quite the moment to discuss a multi-million-pounds investment, but at least an opportunity to assess the general climate.

"George was just congratulating me on our TV contract, but I believe you are the man to be praised for that. - He's done it," Tom said with a proud smile, patting Sidney's shoulders. "My little brother. Engineered a most prestigious deal to advertise the beauties of Sanditon to the world."

Sidney greeted his mentor and the present Mrs Lambe, a good-looking Asian woman in her early thirties who, contrary to Gigi's previous claims, definitely possessed more than two brain cells. Yet it was George's face he tried to read, wondering whether he would find lingering disappointment about the earlier revelations on Num… Marissa. But as always, most of his mentor's expression was hidden behind those thick glasses.

"It certainly is an unusual deal," George Lambe said. "But I didn't expect anything different from Sidney. – Have you met Gigi yet?"

"I have," Sidney confirmed. "She seems… calmer now. Though not very much inclined to be civil with me." Or Eliza.

"She will come round, eventually," the present Mrs Lambe smiled. "It only took her five months on a boat to start being civil with me."

"I'm not sure I have that much time," Sidney said, though considering what would happen once he had given Eliza the shove, five months on a boat were a promising prospect.

"I'm sure we…," Tom started to say, but whatever he was sure of was interrupted by his wife tugging frantically at his arm.

"Oh, look, Tom! Look who's here! Did you know she was coming?" And Tom looked, a broad, complacent grin alighting his face. Sidney, following his gaze, felt his heart stop for a second.

"Well, I had made sure she received an invitation, and I had certainly hoped for her to accept it. What addition of class to the event!" Tom released his wife's arm and put his whole wiry body into a welcoming posture. "My dear Lady Worcester. We are deeply honoured. You may remember my dearest wife, Mary? And my brother Sidney?"

"Mr Parker." Lady Worcester bestowed her loveliest smile on Sidney who had to clench his teeth to stop himself from dragging her ladyship into a dark corner to interview her until she spilt out all she knew about Charlotte. She had to be here because she knew something about Charlotte. However, oblivious as always to any kind of undercurrent, Tom continued his presentation: "And please meet our dear friends, Mr and Mrs George Lambe."

Lady Worcester bestowed another well-educated smile on George Lambe and his wife before she said: "Shush all that, Mr Parker. I came here to see Charlotte. - Where is she?" she added, turning her smile to Sidney whose heart sank to the bottom of the ocean. The deepest part of the ocean. The Mariana Trench.

"Charlotte?" Tom repeated, looking clueless.

"Yes. It's been so many months now," Lady Worcester said.

"Ah, Charlotte Heywood," Tom remembered. "She has left us."

"Oh?"

"Very disappointing, in fact. She left for a visit to her family and never came back. – Well, what does one expect from a girl so young and inexperienced?" Tom shrugged his shoulders as if he wanted to add: that's life.

Lady Worcester shook her elegantly coiffed head. "How simply shocking. I came here in the hope to hear some very happy news tonight. After all, when I met them in the summer, Charlotte and your brother were so very much in love with each other."

"Charlotte and my brother?" Tom shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken. My brother Arthur is more of a… a pastry friend than a ladies' man."

"I was not talking about your brother Arthur," Lady Worcester said. "I was talking about your brother Sidney, of course," she added, bestowing her friendly smile on that same brother.

"Sidney?" Tom burst into laughter. "And Charlotte? Now, that is splendid! There was not much love lost between you two, right, Sidney? Whenever I saw you together, you were either at loggerheads or not on speaking terms. Perhaps apart from the morning after the… fire… And of course, that day in London when everyone was pulling together for the sake of Gigi. I actually tried to make some good weather for you with her that morning, but…"

"Tom," Mary quietly said.

"Now, Mary, come on, this is really funny. She wasn't even his type!"

"Tom!"

"There is nothing funny about being in love," Lady Worcester said. "It's an affliction, and a cure for a broken heart is yet to be found." Tom laughed a little more, but with nobody joining in, he suddenly stopped and stared at his brother.

"Sidney?" And as Sidney was unable to say anything: "Mary? This is not true, is it?"

"I… assumed there was something between them," Mary carefully said, searching her brother-in-law's eyes. "That morning of the Midsummer ball, when they went on a walk together."

"Did they? I don't remember. - But Sidney… what about Eliza? You've been pining after her for years! And she's been with you for months now! Madly in love – it's all over the internet!"

"Well," George Lambe said, sharp-sighted as ever behind his thick glasses. "I gather that was the deal you were praising your brother for earlier, Tom. An investment to save the hotel, a production company to vouch for the credit, a love interest for Mrs Campion's reality show – and Charlotte Heywood gone."

"What?" Tom was clearly horrified now, his eyes larger than ever. "That is why Charlotte left? Because you asked her to go, Sidney? When you were in love with her? You made her leave to… to save the hotel… to save… us ?"

Sidney opened his mouth because obviously, he had to say something now – though he had no idea what to say. In fact, he felt the same desperation Henry must have felt when he had unwrapped the Roboflex Monster Toy Figure for the fifth time in a row. He was completely lost in the adults' strange world, and all he wanted to do was burst into tears and get another hug.

"Hello," someone behind him chirped. "May I join you?"

"Mrs Campion." Lady Worcester acknowledged Eliza with just the slightest inclination of her head.

"Lady Worcester." This was accompanied by a new entry for the competition of false smiles. "What is the topic of discussion?"

"Oh," Lady Worcester said. "I imagine you'll find our conversation unspeakably tedious. We are talking about the sacrifices some of us are willing to make for love."

Seconds passed by. No one said a word. It was very quiet, considering they were in a crowded ballroom. It did not matter, though. Sidney was wondering whether, after this night, anything would ever matter again.

"That was great, Eliza, but the camera angle wasn't perfect," someone from the film team called. "Can we do a retake right away?"

Eliza did not bother with an answer. She simply turned around and stalked away, again leaving some feathers in her wake.

"Sidney," Tom declared, apparently coming to his senses. "We need to talk." Before anyone said anything else, he took his brother by the elbow and marched him out of the ballroom, past the admission desk and down the stairs to the office. Phillida quickly shoved her phone under some reservation papers when she saw her boss.

"Now tell me, brother," Tom said, switching on the light. "Does Eliza know about this?"

"Know what?" Sidney asked to gain time.

"Does she know about you and Charlotte? Did she make her leave?"

"Tom…"

"Be honest with me! Did Eliza send away the most competent trainee I've ever had? Did she force you to get rid of the girl my little brother was in love with?" Sidney felt his mouth twitch. Good and honest? Well, he was going to heed to Alicia's advice.

"Yes, and yes. And she offered her a compensation amounting to three salaries. Charlotte returned the money. Twice."

"Oh, my God." Tom sank down on his office chair, hiding his head in his hands. "The poor, dear girl. Where is she now?"

"I have no idea."

"What? You don't know where she is? How she is faring?"

"Tom… can we stop this now? It's been a hell of a day, and I…"

"No!" Tom thumped his fist on the table. "No, we are not stopping this, Sidney! I was her employer, and more than that, I was responsible for her training, for her education! I had an obligation towards Charlotte Heywood! And now it seems that while I was trying to polish the rough diamond that she was, my little brother was busy breaking her heart."

"Well, Tom, I can't say that you were so much concerned about her welfare while she was here. How many hours overtime did she work? How often did you leave her alone in this office to sort out your so-called administration?"

"That's not the point!"

"But that is exactly the point, Tom!" Sidney cried. "We are here because you are the worst hotel manager on the whole of the south coast, and because your negligence forced me to make a deal I will probably regret until the end of my life. Which is a selfish thing to say, because at least I knew what I was doing when I signed it. – Charlotte, on the contrary… Charlotte…" He choked on his voice.

I long to explore a distant country.

I promise you that you will have your special moment.

There they came: not the desperate sobs of a little boy, but the silent tears of a grown-up man. And there it was: not the quick hug of just another relative, but the deep, honest embrace of an elder brother worn down by guilt and concern, meant to console in a moment when consolation seemed impossible. "Sidney," Tom solemnly said, holding his brother. "I'm so sorry. If I had known… I would not have allowed you to go forward with this TV deal."

Sidney wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Which is probably why I never told you."

"But Eliza… you were so happy when you saw her again in London at that party."

"I never said so. I was surprised… befuddled, I believe – and in a strange way I was even grateful because she gave me another pretence to claim that I was not interested in Charlotte… not at all." He shook his head at the memory of that evening. If only he had walked over to Eliza, told her to crawl back to wherever she had come from and swiped Charlotte off the dance floor for a happy ever after.

"I don't understand," Tom said. "Why would you need a pretence to claim that you were not interested in Charlotte? Why did you not simply tell her that you liked her and invited her out for a date?"

Very good point.

"Because... " Nerd. Prim. Babysitter. Miss…? A girl with so little understanding. I don't think of you at all, Miss Heywood. Have I made myself clear?

Because some part of him knew from the very beginning and simply by instinct that this was going to be different. That Charlotte would stir emotions in him so intense and so deep that he would rather hide behind a wall of offensiveness then face them. The sheer idea of giving himself into someone's power again had scared him more than anything else... Of course, it would have been easier to take Charlotte out for an ice-cream on the promenade and tell her that she just had the cutest dimple.

But that was not who he was. Or what Charlotte wanted. She could have had that with Stringer. Perhaps was having that right now with him, somewhere in Vancouver. Though perhaps not an ice-cream, not in mid-winter in British Columbia. Oh, dear. He was overthinking again.

"It's complicated."

"It's always complicated with you, Sidney," Tom said with a sigh. "First you need eight years to get over Eliza, then you spend weeks if not months fighting with Charlotte, and now you're due to appear on television as the man Eliza is madly in love with while the girl you are madly in love with is probably crying her eyes out. – If that is not complicated, I don't know what is complicated. The question is of course: What are we to do now?"

"I'm going to end it. Make EMIL end in tears without renewal for a second season. Because the tears will be ours, Tom when there's no more backing for your credits."

"There must be another solution, Sidney. What about George Lambe?"

"I hope he'll get involved, but I cannot force him to."

Tom nodded gravely, then looked up, his usual optimism returned to his face. "Right now, we have to look to the future, never to the past. We have to rearrange and adapt our plans, and you'll see, in a few years we'll be well up and thriving again."

Sidney shook his head. Tom would still be babbling about plans and ideas if the giant sea serpent herself came by, plucked him from the safe haven of his office and drowned him in the cold depths of the English Channel. But as he shook his head, he noticed something. He looked again. No, he had not been mistaken. "Where's the seagull?"

"Hm?" His brother was miles away, lost in the dreams of new projects.

"Esther's seagull. She's not sitting on the desk anymore."

"Sidney, I'm trying to adapt to the fact that my financial base is about to crumble away because of your difficult love life, and you worry about a mouldering piece of wood?"

That did it for Sidney. With a murderous growl, he hurled himself at his brother, ready to beat every inch of that bloody smug Tom-ness out of him.

He did not get far, though. A sharp knock on the door interrupted them, and when they looked up, Tom puzzled, Sidney fuming, both dishevelled, one of the omnipresent production assistants was staring at them. "There you are, Sidney! Can you come up to the ballroom? It's… err, sort of an emergency."

"What sort of an emergency?" he asked, straightening his collar and his hair.

"It's an… err, an Eliza emergency."

Well, whatever it was (hopefully not another handbag crisis), maybe this was the chance to have a serious talk. Followed by Tom and the production assistant, Sidney hurried back upstairs to the ballroom.

The dancing had stopped, and the lighting had been switched down to semi-darkness. And no, he was definitely not going to have a chance for a serious talk with Eliza, because she was up on the stage at the back of the room, holding a microphone, obviously recovered from her exchange with Lady Worcester, smiling at the crowd and the cameras that were zooming in on her. She was about to give a speech.

"Good evening to you all and welcome to our Sanditon Christmas Ball," she said. Next to him, Sidney heard his brother cough at the possessive article. "Sidney," she added and held out her hand to him. He did not move. He was vaguely aware of people staring at him, of his family staring at him, Mary, Arthur and Diana, of Lady Worcester and George Lambe with Gigi and Number Three, of Babington and Esther (still no sign of Crowe), of Mr and Mrs Hankins and Lady Denham… even of Phillida Beaufort, who had left the reception desk alone and come up to the ballroom to watch what was apparently going to be the highlight of the evening.

"Sidney," Eliza said once more, and he still did not move. The spell that had drawn him towards her on the dance floor of the Regency Excelsior Hotel in London did not work any longer.

It was the production assistant who pushed him forward, making him stumble on stage. "Sidney," Eliza said for the third time, and he squinted at her, acutely aware of all the cameras around them, but for once not feeling like the little brother of Norman Bates.

"I can't tell you how much it means to me to be standing here by your side in this beautiful ballroom," she said, and, turning to the audience: "I fell in love with this hotel when I was Eliza Mathews, just a little girl with piggy-tails and a tooth gap. I remember those summers of my childhood which I wished would never end. But cruelly, they did, and fate… fate separated me from what I held so dear. This year, fate has gifted me with a second chance, and I returned, a grown-up woman now, marked by the uncertainties of life itself…"

Marked by the uncertainties of life? What the heck was she talking about? Her marriage to a millionaire and the subsequent divorce?

"I'm Eliza Campion now," she continued, fluttering her false eyelashes. "And I came back to the Sanditon Grand Hotel this year in the hope to find a new home. – And I did find a new home. And a new family." She dabbed her eyes. "And new friends." She smiled at Esther and Babington, who did not smile back. Babington was busy with his phone, and Esther looked as if she was going to be sick again. "And I found you again, Sidney. My childhood sweetheart."

The cameras were zooming in on him. Wait wait wait wait, he thought, feeling panic surge up inside of him. What was going on here?

"You've opened a new chapter in the story of my life, and I want to continue writing that story. But not as Eliza Campion any longer."

No. Oh no.

"Sidney…"

Yes. She was going to ask him to marry her. In front of his family, his friends, the hotel staff, two-hundred guests, a film crew and several cameras. Just to make sure he did not say no.

Just to make sure she got what she wanted. Which was certainly not Sidney Parker but more publicity, more attention, more handbag sales and a second season for EMIL. She wanted a perfect place for self-promotion. The hotel. And she seriously believed a scene of public blackmail would get her what she wanted.

Crowe was right; she was completely mad. And lost in her own fake world.

He almost felt sorry for her and her self-delusion. But that emotion lasted only a split second.

So he would do in front of his family, his friends, the hotel staff, two-hundred guests, a film crew and several cameras what he would have preferred to do in private: make Eliza Campion meet reality.

Say no to her.