‘He’s under a lot of pressure.’
‘But he was in the wrong! What can’t he see that?’
‘You know he can. He probably doesn’t want to admit it knowing that he’s got to go back in there and reshoot it.’
‘Do you think he will?’ I ask, looking up at her face, hoping there’s some chance that he wouldn’t be such a fool.
Holly raises her shoulders sadly, giving me a pitiful smile.
Ahh …
‘Thank you for coming to find me,’ I say, standing up. ‘I think I should go home now.’
‘Do you want to come in so that Stephen can get you a car home?’
I screw my face up at the thought of walking back into the studio, knowing that people will still be talking about my outburst, and knowing that Billy will be preparing to go back on set and resume his position.
‘I tell you what,’ begins Holly. ‘I’ll go back in and tell Stephen where you are – just so that he can send out a car to take you home. How does that sound?’
‘Thank you!’
She gives me another big hug before walking back through the gates.
21
I bash my way around the flat for hours, keeping myself busy with the washing and cleaning, waiting for Billy to come home. In all honesty, I feel like ripping up all of Billy’s clothes and breaking everything in sight, still fuming at the situation. I’m annoyed that Billy would be so cold about the whole thing and beyond angry at the fact that he’ll have gone back on set to retake the disgusting shot as though my feelings don’t matter.
We’ve never argued, not like this. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever argued or shouted at anyone in the way I did today since I was a child. At least this time I know I’m right and not just being ‘overly sensitive’, as Billy so kindly put it.
At times, during the afternoon, when I feel myself wavering on whether I was right or wrong, or calming down, a fresh thought pops into my head, reminding me of what an arse Billy has been and how much of a fool he has made me look, refuelling the anger and fire within me.
I’m ready for him to walk through the door, and for us to have a mammoth confrontation where I tell him the millions of things he has done wrong and how much he has hurt me.
My phone bleeps at me, interrupting my rampant thoughts.
It’s a text from Billy.
Been asked out for dinner by Max. I’m sorry, but have to go. Be home later. I want to sort this out. x
After such a horrendous day, one that could potentially spell the end of our relationship, he has chosen to have dinner with his director, rather than coming home as soon as possible and rectifying the situation with me. This says so much about Billy’s current state of mind. Over the past few months, especially following his BAFTA win, I have watched as Billy’s priorities have changed. No longer has the emphasis been on a happy home life and our future together, and keeping Billy grounded in a fickle industry. Instead, it’s all been about his career, and how to build on his success and make people respect him more. His thirst to be desired and admired taking over his thoughts.
Playing the character Stan, and channelling into such a huge ego, has no doubt added to that, making him selfish and narcissistic. Perhaps it’s been difficult for him to switch off from the character at the end of the day, but the notion of taking a pretend life that far is ridiculous to me.
As the hours tick by without him returning home, my new-found feisty attitude starts to dissolve. My anger gives way to fresh waves of paranoia and fragility, making me feel alone and nervous.
Where is he?
I already know that he has an early call time tomorrow, so what would make him stay out so late? Perhaps something has happened to him … the thought sends a chill through me as I remember what happened the last time I had an explosive argument. With my mum and dad. I feel sick.
Around 2am I try to call him. It rings through with no answer. When I call again a few minutes later it goes straight to voicemail.
Unable to keep my thoughts occupied with anything else but what could’ve happened to him, I sit in the living room, clutching a pillow, watching the clock hands slowly move, second by second, longing for him to come home.
I must have nodded off at some point, because I’m woken by the sound of my phone ringing. I snatch it up, hoping to see Billy’s name, but instead it’s Paul’s. He is the last person that I want to speak to right now, but the fact that he is calling means that he must have some information on where Billy is. I pick up.
‘Hello?’
My voice is hoarse and quiet, the tension having built in my throat overnight.
‘Sophie?’ Paul says, as clipped as ever.
‘Do you know where Billy is?’ I blurt out.
‘Yes.’
‘Has something happened to him? He didn’t come home last night.’
‘It’s OK, he’s fine.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He stayed here last night.’
‘Why? I thought he went out to dinner?’
I hear Paul sigh down the phone line. Is he annoyed that he has to deal with me? Exasperated to be dealing with this pesky matter rather than planning Billy’s next big deal? Am I really that much of a bother?
‘He did, but … Look, Sophie, I have a million things to be getting on with. Billy will explain everything when he gets home tonight. He just asked me to call you to say he’d be back at nine. What’s happened is nothing to do with me.’
‘What do you mean, Paul? What has happened?’ I ask, starting to panic.
‘Sophie. I work for Billy, which means that I have to do what he says. That is why I called. After your attitude yesterday, I personally wouldn’t have bothered.’
‘What?’
‘I can’t say any more. I think all this is best coming from him.’
‘But –’
‘It’s not my job to deal with matters of the heart – just to make Billy the best he can be. A job which your very presence makes difficult.’
‘Paul?’
He hangs up.
My face crumples in pain as fresh tears tumble down my cheeks.
Something has happened.
Something has happened which led Billy to go to Paul’s rather than come home. Unless he didn’t go to Paul’s and went somewhere else instead … Paul could just be covering for him.
It hits me. Hard and powerful.
Billy’s cheated.
Away from the cameras and the film sets, and hiding behind the guise of a stupid character, where it seems anything is acceptable, Billy has done the thing I’ve feared he would.
Billy has cheated.
The hours trickle by as I sit and wait. I don’t keep myself busy like I did yesterday. I don’t have the energy. I sit in one spot on the sofa. Staring at the wall. Waiting. Slowly becoming numb to the pain that is eating me up inside.
I get call after call from Molly. Perhaps Billy has called her and explained the whole thing, said I could do with a friendly voice … I ignore her calls. I listen to the silence.
Eventually I hear a key slide into the lock as Billy returns home, aware of him hesitating before turning it and letting himself in. I’m still sat on the sofa when he walks into the living room; his posture is stooped, his face red and blotchy. He looks drained, as though in shock, which catches me by surprise – I didn’t expect him to look so bad. He glances at me, takes one look at my face and bows his head into his hands in shame, before sinking to the floor as he releases thick, heavy howls. Resting his head on the carpet and pounding the floor with his fist.
I don’t go to him.
I remain on the sofa unable to move, as each one of Billy’s wails confirms my earlier thoughts; words being deemed unnecessary.
I listen to his self-pitying sobs, wanting them to stop as they bang around in my brain. My heart cracks at the sound, my world caving in around me. I clench my jaw in a bid to steel myself, trying to block out the pain.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he cri
es, slowly scooping himself up from the floor, trying to control his breathing, his head still buried in his hands. I flinch as he moves closer to me, but he doesn’t even try to touch me or seek comfort; instead he sits next to me. He stares at the floor in front of us, shaking his head. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he repeats.
‘I think it’s a bit late for that,’ I say flatly, looking directly at him.
‘Let me explain!’ he whimpers.
‘Will it all disappear if you do?’
‘No …’
‘Well, then, I don’t think I want to hear it.’
‘Please … I need you to understand.’
I don’t say anything, but my silence allows Billy to continue.
‘Just let me tell you everything, before …’ he takes a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself as he starts to describe the events which have led him here, to this sofa, in such a mess. ‘After you left yesterday I felt terrible, all I wanted to do was come home and be with you. I was useless in the scenes, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I hated knowing I’d upset you so much … Max took Heidi and me aside at the end of the day, and asked if it was OK for him to take us out for dinner, saying he wanted to talk to us in a more relaxed environment, away from the studio. I had to go and see Paul briefly, so said I’d meet Heidi and Max at the restaurant a little while later. When I turned up only Heidi was at the table. I thought about leaving, knowing how it would look if I stayed, but she told me Max was on his way, said that he’d just had to nip home quickly but he’d insisted that we start dinner without him. I should’ve known then. I should’ve left …’ he reflects, with a sigh.
‘Carry on,’ I say, feeling sick. Wanting Billy to hurry up and just tell me what’s happened.
‘I sat down. I could see that Heidi was immediately more relaxed than she has been on set – she was much more like the Heidi I used to know, smiling and friendly. It was actually nice to see her like that instead of her being cold towards me. She kept bringing up little things that had happened on Halo, funny little jokes and moments.’
‘How lovely!’
‘Please … don’t,’ Billy begs, pausing before continuing. ‘Realizing it was getting late I went to send Max a text, to ask where he was, but Heidi stopped me. It turned out she’d known all along that he wouldn’t be joining us,’ he says with a heavy sigh. ‘When I challenged her about it, she said, “I just wanted to have a nice night together. Away from all the distractions.” I thought about leaving again, but our main courses arrived.’ Billy hesitates before continuing, hopefully realizing the lunacy of his justification for staying longer. ‘That’s when the mood started to change. She started saying how I was often in her thoughts, how she regularly thinks about what we’d be like together now, being older and wiser, talking about how much press attention we’d get if we were to get back together. I laughed it off, not wanting to indulge in ridiculous talk like that with her. I’m so happy with you, she knows that, plus as far as I knew she was getting married, so I took it as just hypothetical rubbish that wasn’t worth getting into. I started to chat about other stuff, but I could see that she was unnerved by my rebuff.’
‘Poor thing,’ I say sarcastically.
‘As soon as the meal was finished I asked for the bill and we left,’ he continues, not letting my interruption stop him. ‘I must’ve drunk more wine than I thought, though, making my reactions slower. Once we were outside she just pounced on me. Literally, pounced. Before I could even register what was happening her mouth was on mine and she was grabbing at me. Cupping my bits,’ he says, shaking his head.
‘And then you went back to hers, how lovely,’ I say, suddenly wanting the conversation to be over, not wanting to hear any more.
‘No! I pushed her away from me. It ended there, but …’
‘But what?’
‘There was a photographer there who caught the whole thing.’
I laugh, with what must be shock, but don’t say anything.
‘I looked at Heidi, confused at what had happened, but she had this big smile on her face, she said something like, “Say hello to the new Brad and Angelina,” and winked at me. She’d set it up. I couldn’t believe it. I went to go after the pap, but he’d already disappeared. Heidi tried to put her arms around my neck, but I pushed her away again, told her how much she disgusted me and walked off. I could hear her screaming after me … I wanted to come home, I wanted more than anything to hug you and –’
‘But you didn’t, so what did you do?’
‘Called Paul and went over to his.’
‘Letting me wait up all night worrying about you, thinking something awful had happened to you.’
‘I’m so sorry, we’ve been trying to find out who the photographer was and what actually happened. It turns out that the meal was Heidi’s idea from the start. She’d suggested it to Max after I’d followed you out. He was never actually going to be joining us. It was just a ploy to get me there. Obviously, Max didn’t know what she had planned, he thought she just wanted to clear the tension between us and make things less awkward.’
‘So who was the photographer?’
‘Don’t know. Paul’s been frantically on the phone to various editors trying to see who might have the photos, but they’re all staying pretty tight-lipped. They know they’ve got a news splash on their hands. I’m just so sorry,’ he sobs, breaking down once again.
‘You’ve been trying to stop it from going to print?’
Billy doesn’t say anything, but nods. The news makes me want to gag; once more my heartbreak will be splashed across the news pages for all to read and judge unfairly.
‘Did you kiss her back?’ I ask flatly.
‘What?’
‘Did you kiss her back? It’s a simple question.’
‘I don’t know. No. It all happened so fast. I wasn’t thinking.’
‘Do you fancy her?’
‘What? No!’
‘Do you still have feelings for her?’
‘No! Right now I hate her and can’t believe I might lose you because of that wicked bitch!’
‘It’s not just her fault though, is it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s everything. All the girls on set, the way I’ve had to sit and watch you, the way you spoke to me yesterday …’
‘I know and I feel awful about all of that.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes!’
‘You’ve changed, Billy. When we first met you had a grasp on reality, what was important in life, but I think you’ve lost your perspective on all that.’
‘Please, Sophie, I’m so sorry.’
‘And I’ve changed, too. I was so happy to move here, to be a part of your life, but the thing is, there actually isn’t space for someone like me in it. Your world is all about you, and I think I need something to be about me for a change.’
‘But this is about you, I want to do anything I can to make you happy. It hurts so much that I’ve hurt you! I’m sorry I’ve acted so badly. I know I didn’t say it at the time, but I do understand what you were talking about with the nipple thing. You were right, it’s absolutely sick. I can’t believe I justified it, let alone tried to turn it around and act as though it was your problem. I was just so frustrated, and not with you … but you’re the one I took it out on, and I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry.’
Fresh sobs sound from Billy’s mouth as he breaks down again. This time he falls into my lap, throwing his arms around my waist, locking me there.
‘I love you so much, you’re the most important thing in the world to me. Please don’t leave me,’ he begs.
At some point, after hours of tears and hearing more apologies from Billy, we decide to go to bed, agreeing to talk about it more in the morning when we’ve both calmed down and can be more rational about the matter.
I don’t sleep. Various thoughts run through my head, stopping me from switching off.
I have an overwhelming urge to leave, to escape Bi
lly, London and his pathetic showbiz world and go back to Rosefont Hill, where I feel loved and secure. The thought of being home with Mum right now fills me with such longing, and I want, more than anything, to talk to Molly, to bury myself in her arms as she coos away at me. Happy to have me back.
I look at Billy, and see that he is dead to the world. Sound asleep, looking like he doesn’t have a single worry or concern.
I don’t want to be here, the thought is loud and clear.
As the new day begins and light starts to filter through the curtains, I climb out of bed. Careful not to wake Billy, I quietly get dressed and fill a small suitcase with my belongings. Luckily, I don’t have many things here still, and, other than my photos of Mum and Dad, anything I leave behind is replaceable or, like my Vera Wang dress, no longer needed.
Knowing that Billy is likely to follow me to Mum’s to try and persuade me to come back with him or to sort things out; I take a notepad and write him a short message.
Billy,
I can’t stay here. I need to go home and think things through properly on my own. It’s not just the one incident that’s made me want to leave, I’ve actually felt low for a while, but haven’t quite been able to pinpoint why.
I can’t carry on when I’m so unhappy. I need time to concentrate on me, and chase my own dreams, rather than just watching others fulfil theirs without a second thought for what I might want. I’m sorry to just leave like this, but I couldn’t face more heartbreak. Please give me time and space.
Sophie X
I place the note on the side in the kitchen and walk out of the flat.
Once I get to the station, I have fifteen minutes to spare before my train leaves. Curiosity gets the better of me on seeing a WH Smith. I walk in and grab the newspaper with Billy on the front, not daring to even look at it in detail before getting on the train, knowing that if I do I’ll collapse to the floor and never get up again.
‘Oh yes, this is terrible, this …’ says the girl at the checkout as she scans through the paper. ‘Who’d have thought Billy could be such a rat, hey? Especially when just a little while ago he was parading that normal bird around! It’s her I feel sorry for. It’s just awful.’