The Road to Her (31 page)

“I’m not.” Bella ran her hand down my arm. “I’m just playing devil’s advocate,” she said, “as always.” She looked at me. “You just have to ask yourself honestly if you ever thought you and Elise would be in it for the long run, or whether both your careers would have been too important to risk, even for different reasons.”

“Well, I guess I’ll never know now, will I?” I said, looking again at her hoodie. “Because from where I’m standing, there’s no more Holly and Elise, and there’s no more Jasmine and Casey.” I took a deep breath. “So where on earth do I go from here?”

*

I couldn’t face leaving my apartment for the rest of the week. I called in sick to work each morning on Bella’s insistence that I was in no fit state to resume any vigorous filming schedule until I’d had time to make sense of everything that had happened to me.

She was right. I spent days sitting numbly in the window of my apartment, watching people come and go on the streets below me, or watching the London Eye slowly turn outside, trying to evaluate my life. Often, I’d find myself looking up at the planes that flew in and out of Heathrow right over my apartment every few minutes, stupidly imagining that Elise might be on one of them, and that she was coming home. I’d try to picture her sitting in her seat, then stare blankly at the plane until it was no longer visible, hating it for taking Elise away from me, and hating her for leaving me.

When I wasn’t watching the planes, I was crying. When I wasn’t crying, I’d torture myself by watching old clips of Jasey or reading fans’ messages on forums, speculating over Elise’s sudden departure from the show—which had inevitably been leaked to the press by someone from the studios—making the tears that had recently dried up come tumbling back out again. It was ironic, I thought, as I sat slumped in my pyjamas on the sofa, obsessively watching video after video, that Elise hadn’t wanted to be plastered over the papers because of our relationship, but her hasty departure had stirred up something of a hornets’ nest in the media. My tears weren’t just because I loved and missed her. My tears were for a lost opportunity, brought about by my own stupid morals. If only I’d given her what she’d wanted, rather than insisting on being more open when she’d made it clear over and again she didn’t want us to be, then I wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

I spent time looking at a photo we’d taken in my apartment one time, both of us lying in bed, both devoid of any make-up and with hair sticking up in all directions. Despite how scruffy we looked, we both looked radiant—happy and comfortable in each other’s presence. I stared at the picture relentlessly, remembering how she used to call me Holly Eight-Year, thinking about how I’d give anything to hear her call me that again. I took in every detail of her face in the photo, trying to recall all the things we’d talked about the day we took the photo, thinking back to how happy we’d been that day. How had it all gone so wrong?

I followed this pattern of plane-and-video watching and photo-staring for three whole days, until finally, after the fourth day of my absence from work, Bella came back to my apartment, bustling in with a worried but determined and caring look on her face. It was a look that suggested she wouldn’t be leaving until she was certain I would be okay to be left again.

“I’ve been calling your mobile every day for the last four days,” Bella said, brushing her hand up and down my arm as I stepped aside to allow her in, “and your landline. Guess you didn’t want to be contacted, huh?”

I glanced at my iPhone, switched to silent for the last seventy-two hours, and then to the apartment phone, yanked angrily out from its socket when it was clear that Elise wasn’t going to ring me. I looked back at Bella.

“I’ve not been in the mood for callers.” I shrugged, wandering back to the sofa and sinking down wearily into it.

“Have you even stepped outside this door since I was last here?” Bella asked.

I shook my head.

“Or had a shower?” She looked at my crumpled pyjamas and messy hair.

“You know what’s ironic about all of this?” I asked, ignoring her question about showers.

Bella sat down beside me.

“That I kept on about how my relationship with Elise wasn’t as I wanted it to be,” I said, “but now I’d give anything to have any kind of relationship with her.” I looked at Bella. “I miss her, Bella,” I said. “I miss Casey, I miss Jasmine. I miss everything.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I was living this wonderful life, with a wonderful character to play in a wonderful soap. I had a wonderful girl with me who I got to work with all day and hang out with at night, and it still wasn’t enough for me.” I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed hard. “And now I’ve lost it all.”

“You haven’t lost Jasmine,” Bella said kindly. “Everyone’s worried about you, you know.” She squeezed my hand. “We just want you to come back and carry on doing what you’re amazing at.”

I felt punch-drunk, like every last ounce of energy had been squeezed from me. My head ached, my eyes were like hard rocks in their sockets, and I was numb all over. But Bella’s words to me about work sparked a small feeling of optimism inside me.

“Have you heard from her?” Bella asked.

I shook my head. “Not a word. Nothing,” I said. “Have you? Has Kevin, I mean?” I asked hopefully.

“No, nothing either.” She sat back on the sofa.

I paused. “Has it caused too much hassle?” I asked. “Elise leaving like that, me not coming in all week?”

Bella patted my leg. “Nothing the writers can’t fix,” she smiled. “They’re annoyed with Elise, yes, but I think they’re more than used to us actors and our fragile egos getting the better of us sometimes, then us buggering off and leaving everyone in the lurch.” She bumped her shoulder playfully against mine. “They’ll cope. They always do.” She got up from the sofa and wandered to the kitchen, pausing on her way there. “Let’s have no more talk of blame here, okay?” She turned and looked at me. “You have your whole life ahead of you, Holly,” she said. “You’ve got a great career, a good life here in London, and people who love you. Don’t let one person ruin all that for you.”

I sat and listened to Bella making coffee, thinking perhaps Bella was right, and that it was time I took a shower and joined the real world again. I got up and went to the kitchen, just as Bella was returning with a large mug of steaming coffee and hot buttered toast.

“You’re right,” I said, smiling sheepishly at her.

“About?” Bella handed me my coffee.

“About everything,” I said. “As usual.”

I took a piece of toast from the plate, biting into a slice and licking melted butter from my bottom lip.

“Does this mean you feel like you might be ready to come back to work?” Bella asked hesitantly.

“I think so,” I replied truthfully. “Might do me better than moping around here, thinking about how well I’ve managed to fuck up my life, hey?” The words caught slightly in my throat and I hastily took another bite of toast in case Bella noticed.

“And does it also mean you might be up for a night out tomorrow?” Bella bumped my arm. “We do have to celebrate your birthday, you know.”

“My birthday,” I said on a groan.

“It’s the law,” she said. “All birthday celebrations are compulsory.”

“Oh yes?” I looked at her in amusement. “And whose law says that?”

“Bella’s law,” she said, taking the second piece of toast from my plate and biting into it. “I’ll look after you all night, I promise. Make sure you don’t get questioned to death about stuff.”

“I think a night out is just what I need,” I said wearily. “Might help me forget. Thank you, Bella,” I said warmly.

Chapter Thirty-two

Elise had been gone exactly six days, nine hours, and twenty-one minutes, but the second I stepped into Bobby’s and remembered that the last time I’d been there—with her—it seemed like she’d only left me that morning. Stepping back into that nightclub jolted me back into missing her all over again. I’d thought I’d be spending my twenty-first with her, of course. We hadn’t made firm plans, but I’d believed that whatever we did, and however we celebrated it, it would just be the two of us. As much as I appreciated Bella and everyone else taking me out, and as much as I was making an effort to be happy on the outside, a huge part of me was crying inside all evening because all I really wanted to do was be with Elise, on my own, in my apartment, celebrating with her.

“You’re thinking too much again.” Bella put her hands on my shoulders and steered me towards a table. “You had that faraway look on your face that you always get.”

“Just thinking how weird it all is without her here.” I sat down and stared around me, trying not to let my mood darken too much. “And missing her all over again.”

I’d returned to work that same afternoon and hated every single second of it, for so many reasons.

No Elise. No Casey.

Questions asked. Questions fended off.

It had been awful.

It would be wretched getting into the routine of working without Elise again, as well. We’d been working closely—as well as everything else—for such a long time that to suddenly not have her with me or near me and not knowing when—if ever—she was coming back was utter hell. I frequently thought back to my first meeting with her, all those months ago, and found it curious to think there ever was a time when we hadn’t worked with one another because it seemed like Elise had been part of
PR
—and a part of me—forever.

“Try not to dwell on the past,” Bella said kindly, “think of your twenty-first as a new start.” She hugged her arm round me. “A new start without her.”

“She’s making that easier for me,” I said, not elaborating any further as Robbie placed a bucket of champagne and two glasses on our table.

“Happy birthday, you.” He leant across and kissed my cheek. “My spies tell me you had a sack-load of cards from fans this morning, Miss Popular.” He squeezed my shoulder.

“Over three hundred and sixty at the last count.” Bella looked up and caught Robbie’s eye. “That would be precisely three hundred and fifty-nine and a half more than I got this year.”

“How do you get half a card, Bel?” Robbie looked quizzically at her.

“It was written on the back of a postcard.” Bella shrugged. “Half a card.”

Robbie rolled his eyes and, with a final demand that I drink up and enjoy, he wandered off back in the direction of the bar where the others were seated.

Getting cards from fans had been awesome. I’d never received cards on any previous birthdays, and I have to admit, I loved it, giving me the faintest pinprick of something resembling cheerfulness. But that was it, wasn’t it? Throughout all of this sorry mess, I was still Jasmine Hunter, and Casey or no Casey, I’d be Jasmine Hunter for many years yet. Even Elise couldn’t take that away from me.

“Dare I ask?” Bella said, now we were alone again.

“Ask what?” I replied, pouring champagne carefully into our glasses.

“Did you get anything from her?”

I shook my head. “No text, no card, no e-mail, nothing,” I said, sighing. “She knows it’s today but she evidently doesn’t give a shit.”

“So, again,” Bella offered, “it’s time for you to move on because it sounds like she already has.”

“It’s difficult.” I frowned. “Everything’s a reminder. I hated hearing the bitching about her at work this afternoon,” I said. “People grumbling about her because she’s thrown the schedule into chaos.”

“The same people who are having to work longer hours because of what she’s done?” Bella sipped her drink. “They’ll soon move on to bitching about someone else.”

“I hate the way they speak about her, though,” I said. “All right, so Elise could be arsey with me in the early days, but she’s always been professional and polite to everyone on set, hasn’t she?”

Bella nodded. “Can’t argue with that.” She lifted her glass as she spotted Kevin in the shadows and beckoned him over to our table. “No more talking about Elise. Promise?”

“Promise.” I swirled my champagne around in my glass, making it fizz again, and took a long drink.

“I just about remember my twenty-first.” Kevin slotted himself into the booth beside me. “But I don’t remember drinking as much champagne as you all are!” He raised his glass to me. “Are you having a good one?”

“She is, aren’t you?” Bella prompted when I didn’t answer.

“It’s been awesome.” I managed a smile. “Thank you all for coming out with me.”

“You’re a very highly valued member of
Portobello
,” Kevin said. “What’s happened isn’t your fault. You do know that, don’t you?” he asked. “It’s Elise that’s put us in this mess, not you.”

“I know,” I mumbled, glancing over to Bella. “Thank you.”

“And just because we’ve had to write Casey out for now,” he continued, “doesn’t mean we’ll be downgrading any of your storylines.” He bumped my shoulder. “So don’t start thinking you’ll have fewer lines to learn than you did a week ago.”

“Is this really the end of Jasmine and Casey, then?” I asked hesitantly. “Forever?” The word caught in my throat.

“Just a temporary blip.” Kevin waved a hand. “The writers will have her travelling somewhere for the next few months but not breaking up with Jasmine as such.” He took a drink from his glass. “We’ll cross that bridge when and if we have to.”

I stared down into my glass, watching the bubbles play with one another.

“We still have big plans for Jasmine, Hol,” Kevin said, draining the rest of his drink. “If anything, the Jasey storyline has told us just how important a character she is.” He stood up. “And we’ll fight to keep you on board for as long as possible.”

I watched him leave our table and head back over to where Susie was talking to Rory, then turned and looked at Bella, my face flushed with pride.

“You see?” Bella leant closer to me. “There’s life after Jasmine and Casey, and there’s life after Holly and Elise, too.” She clinked her glass against mine. “Today is most definitely the first day of the rest of your life.”

Chapter Thirty-three

“Okay, that’s a wrap.” Stuart clapped his hands twice and retrieved his clipboard from under his arm, scribbling something down on it. “We’re done for the day now, guys.” He turned and walked quickly towards a trailer parked up nearby.