The shower had been so amazing and so powerful that I felt as if a whole layer of my skin had been removed from off my body, leaving me feeling refreshed and totally cleansed.
I had now begun to dry myself off with one of the large, warm, fluffy towels that had been placed upon a large white washed whicker chair for me. There were several to choose from and I took the largest.
This bathroom was lovely. A real gem of a room with everything you could possibly want and need. It was also quite large as well, but with no windows, although that did not detract at all from the brightness within as little lights were embedded into the ceiling and all along its walls.
It was an extremely modern styled room with a large, oval shaped bath at one end, a separate shower cubicle that I had just exited from, two wash basins, side by side, a toilet and a b-day.
I was now sat down on the whicker chair and began to dry my feet. They still felt extremely tender to the touch and I wondered if they were in fact cut or bruised. I examined them further but could not see any visible damage.
I then got up from the chair and walked towards a very large shelving unit that was packed with body moisturisers, face creams, hair removal creams, tints, toners, balms, waxes and all manner of different lotions and potions. I was at a loss as to what to try first!
At last, I did find a little tub of foot soothing balm and figured that the inclusion of arnica, eucalyptus oil and mint would most likely do the trick.
I sat back down and began to smooth the balm all over my aching feet, in between my toes, on my heels and up over my ankles. There was instant relief and I wondered what else I might be tempted by.
As I scanned my eyes along the shelves to see what other goodies were on offer, I was suddenly interrupted by a woman's shrill voice calling out from the other side of the bathroom door.
"Gwen...... Gwen..... Are you alright in there?".
I sighed to myself.
Silva!
I had quite forgotten all about her being here as I had become so immersed in looking at what else this exquisite room had to offer. I had also almost forgotten that I was supposed to be trying to remember the events of last night too!
"Gwen...... I'm making some pancakes. Would you like some?". Came her shrill voice once again.
Pancakes? I suddenly thought to myself.
What was it shrove Tuesday or something?
Could it actually be pancake day?
Or was she trying to be all American, after she had attended that American diner last night!
My stomach twisted suddenly.
Of course!
She went to that place on Canary wharf last night, with all of her friends.
Now what was it called............
"I'll make you some........... shall I?". She went on, interrupting my thoughts.
It didn't seem to bother her, in the slightest that I was not answering but I wasn't being rude on purpose, it was just that I was still trying to figure things out in my head from the previous night.
"Come down when you're ready then". She chirped in that rather annoying bubbly way of hers.
This time however, I did decline to answer. I found her presence here really rather infuriating somehow, for she seemed to know all the answers whilst I was still struggling to only guess at the questions.
I had actually very little knowledge of where I was, for she had declined to explain anything to me. She also seemed to delight in the fact that I was so totally confused about all of this!
Maybe I will go down for pancakes after all and then I could question her at length. I felt sure that she wouldn't be able to keep everything such a closely guarded secret.
Exiting the en suite bathroom, wrapped in a cozy, fluffy dressing gown that I'd found hung up on the back of the door, I was now able to take in fully the surroundings of this most lovely of bedrooms.
It was, again like the bathroom quite large with plenty of beautiful tasteful furnishings. The bed must be king sized for it looked huge with plenty of pastel coloured pillows and cushions placed all over it. There was also a massive mirror that was part of the wall. I hadn't really noticed it's positioning before and now that I had, it rather intrigued me.
It was right at the foot of the bed. Not to one side of it, or somewhere that you would easily be able to see your reflection in. No, this mirror seemed to be in such a position that you would be able to see yourself quite clearly if you were actually in the bed!
I frowned. This was most odd. I liked this room, I liked it a lot, but I wasn't overly sure that I personally would have had the mirror right there. It did seem rather strange.
Nevertheless, I went over to it to take a good look at myself and saw before me a very tired looking young woman, who had now somehow managed to look quite refreshed, with skin that glowed and hair that was beginning to dry naturally on its own accord and hung down loosely around the shoulders in soft, gentle ringlets.
I smiled at the reflection. It didn't appear to look too bad, which had surprised me somewhat after waking up in a cold, frantic sweat and believing someone was actually attacking me in that bed.
I had now, thankfully realised it had all been just pure fabrication. A bad dream in fact, an awful image, a memory of something that had happened long before.
I shook my head. I did not need reminding. I didn't want to even think about that incident.......... Or indeed him.
Although for some strange reason, something was continuing to nag at me about him.
Something about last night......
I stepped away from the mirror and went over to the chair that had the pile of clothes folded up very neatly upon it. I smiled to myself. Silva had very kindly left me these clothes of hers to wear, but as I approached I noticed a little bag was also present that wasn't there before.
She must have placed it on top of the clothes whilst I was in the bathroom.
Tentatively I picked it up and could see that it was a pretty, little floral makeup bag. Excitedly I opened it up and saw that it was jam packed with all kinds of fabulous makeup. I began to take out the contents in order to study each individual item carefully.
There were two pallets of eyeshadow in different colours and shades, some mascara, an eyeliner pencil. There was also some blusher, a concealer, several lipsticks and some foundation.
This was so lovely and the best thing was, they were all brand new, unopened products!
I wasn't in the habit of wearing makeup every day, I usually only ever wear it if I have somewhere special to go, or if I was in the film studio or the theatre, where I would be totally required to put it on. To actually wear makeup on a typical normal day would be pretty unusual for me. But it was a nice thought and did make me feel rather special.
I was now sat on the edge of the bed and suddenly felt very spoilt indeed. It was as if I had woken up in some kind of a fairytale and I was now the Princess!
I turned my attention to the pile of clothes that were awaiting my inspection and gave a deep inward sigh. As kind as Silva's intentions were, I somehow doubted that I would actually be able to fit into any of them. I mean, if they actually belonged to her, there was no way that they'd ever be able to fit me, for she was such a petite little thing and I, very obviously, was not!!
I picked up the first item of clothing from the pile and holding it aloft I could immediately tell that the pair of very skinny, dark blue jeans with the teeny, tiny waist would never be able to fit me in a million, zillion years!!!
I then picked up a very nice floral blouse, full of pinks, yellows and light greens. It was extremely pretty but not my style at all, besides that too, would never fit me.
Next in the pile was quite a nice cable knit grey sweater. It would be something I'd definitely wear whilst slopping about at home, but it'll have to be at least another two sizes bigger for me to feel totally comfortable in. Sighing again sadly to myself, I added that to the ever increasing pile of clothes that would not fit me. At this rate I'd be eating pancakes downstairs with her, still wearing this dressing gown!
I looked to see what else she had left out for me and was pleased to now find a pair of light grey jogging bottoms. Holding them up I now smiled to myself. This was more like it, they were bound to fit. They were not a cheap, nasty pair either and felt really soft to the touch. Yes these would do nicely and still smiling I placed them in a separate pile. The next item though, hurriedly wiped the smile from off my face as I now picked up a truly hideous oversized baggy bright purple top. I let the garment fall from its folded form and looked hard at it. It was about 3 sizes too big for even me and was a really awful colour. It was like a sweat shirt type of thing with a fronted zip and a hood. In a different colour and the right size it might have been alright but not like this! Hurriedly I folded it back up again and placed it on the rejected pile, only to then realise there were no more clothes for me to look at, only underwear and the pair of red moccasins.
Tentatively I picked up the two pairs of very pretty, lacy knickers, one dark pink the other cream coloured and wondered how on earth I was going to manage to get into either one of them!
They were very lovely mind, the sort of thing I'd have liked to have worn on a night out perhaps, but again the sizing was all wrong. They would truly cut me in half, that was if I could even get them to pull up over my rather large, hefty thighs.
I put them back down onto the rejected pile and looked at the very last item, a rather small, white laced bra. I picked it up and almost laughed out loud by the absurdity of it all. Not even the two cups sewn together would cover even just one of my bosoms, never mind both!
Well, I suppose I was ample in that respect! I may not be stick thin like Silva was but at least I still had a bust!
However, it made me wonder whether or not this Silva person had really taken a good look at me at all. Surely if she had of done, she would have realised that there was an absolute world of difference between our two respected figures.
Perhaps she never did though, I mean I seemed to scrutinise her rather heavily on every one of our meetings. Maybe she was just not that bothered about me or anyone else in fact.
I looked at the one solitary item on the yes pile. The pair of oversized grey jogging bottoms and sighed to myself. That was it. The only thing that I could find that would actually fit me!
God!
I now felt huge!
So I then reluctantly grabbed hold of the hideously large, baggy purple top and added that to the yes pile as well. It was awful but at least it would fit.
I then took hold of the red sheepskin moccasins and placed them upon my poor delicate feet.
Success!! They fit! At least there was something amongst this lot that at least felt comfortable!
I decided to get dressed into the joggers and the purple hoodie anyway. I hadn't got any underwear or socks to wear, but hey, after I had eaten my pancakes I could always ask her the whereabouts of my own clothes!!
Stepping out of this lovely bedroom, commando style, I felt very conspicuous. It was weird really because I had been subjected to the most amazing shower, had plastered myself in wonderful lotions and all kinds of scented creams and moisturisers and stuff, only to now enter the outside world dressed like some kind of bag woman!
I had declined the use of any of the cosmetics as well, for I could not find anything that would compliment this hideous colour of purple anyway!!
I now edged myself out onto a landing area where incidentally, there were many other closed doors leading off from it.
A staircase was at its center, that carried on up onto another floor above me. I looked up to where it might lead, but as it curved around I was unable to see beyond the first half a dozen steps. It also had the most beautiful white, ornate banisters either side of the steps and a gorgeous red patterned carpet lay on the floor. White washed walls were all around me decorated with wonderful paintings of landscapes, wildlife and flowers that were surrounded by gilt edged frames. It almost had the feel of a stately home with its grandness but it seemed much more homely.
I did like it very much but felt very nervous about venturing any further. I just didn't know where to go or how I should present myself. So I just stood there, listening for any sign of life, hoping to be rescued, even if it was by Silva.
As I stood there, I was able to hear the faint, muffled sound of a radio playing. I couldn't recognise any of the music, but every so often I could hear Silva's voice singing along to it and the noises of her moving about, probably making those damned pancakes she was going on about.
I now came to the conclusion that I couldn't stand here all day, so made my way towards the staircase and was pleasantly surprised to see that it too was curved around like the one I had noticed above me in a spiral. I was unable to see where they led or indeed the very bottom of them. However, the whole of the staircase was extremely pleasing to the eye, with their patterned swirly shapes.
Once again the walls had pictures upon them. These however were photographs rather than paintings and I craned my neck to have a closer look at one of them without having to actually step out onto the stairs.
It was a photo taken outside at night. A man was stood in front of a crowd of people, who were standing behind some barriers trying to get his autograph or a photo or something. It was an interesting picture, showing a lot of the crowd and I smiled to myself, as it reminded me of last night's premiere when everyone had been shouting for the attentions of the famous film stars.
This picture however, was taken by a professional although the main subject........... The man, wasn't even looking at the photographer. He was smiling into the crowd which I thought was really rather endearing.
I noticed that there was an inscription below the picture, so I leaned forward a little bit so that I was able to read it.
Leicester Square London, Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban premiere 2004. Presented to Alan Rickman for his continued support of Rada.
My breath caught suddenly in my chest and I put a hand to it to stop my beating heart trying to escape!
Oh my God!! It was him!
Alan Rickman's picture was on the wall of this lovely house. But why?
Could it really be possible that this was indeed............ his house?
It had, in fact crossed my mind earlier on but I could hardly believe it to be true!
I took one short step forward, to look at another picture.
This one was in black and white and was a photo of a much younger looking Alan staring seductively into the camera lens.
He was standing in front of a beautiful arched shaped window and I did wonder whether or not the photo had been taken in this very house!
I screwed up my eyes to read at the inscription below without having to venture too much down the stairs.
It read:
Photo shoot, July 1997 Hammersmith London.
Presented on behalf of your loyal help and support.
Pierre von strutt.
Why were there two framed pictures of Alan Rickman up on display?
Maybe there were more.
I tentatively put a foot onto the next step down to look at another photograph. This time it was a picture of Alan stood with his arms folded, amongst a group of young people. I would say they were either teenagers or young adults but none of whom I recognised. Another inscription was written below this one too.
It read:
To Alan for all your hard work and friendship.
From the members of The elite theatre company, Walthamstow.
My heart caught in my chest yet again as I was now beginning to realise that all these photos were actually gifts that Alan had received from members of different organisations he seemed to be involved with and as I craned my neck even further, I could see that there was a load more on the walls further on down the stairs.
I was very interested to see them all, but did not want to draw any attention to myself. So silently I crept down another step, only this time I managed to stupidly lose my footing and slip from one stair down to the other, losing a red moccasin in the process and also scraping the side of my ankle. I let out a gasp of shock as the pain seared through my already tender foot and I was now desperately hanging onto the side of the bannister to prevent myself from falling down any further.
"Gwen, is that you? Are you alright?".
A voice shouted up from the bottom of the staircase.
Oh, great! So much for trying to be discreet, I thought to myself. Silva had heard me now and was bound come up the stairs, where she'd now see me hanging around this bannister, holding on for dear life, wearing this hideous purple top, oversized jogging bottoms and just the one moccasin!
"Yeah, I'm fine thanks". I yelled out, desperately trying to gain some sort of decorum, whilst also attempting to get myself upright again.
"Are you sure?". She shouted, although she sounded a lot nearer this time.
Oh Lord, I bet she was now, on her way up these stairs towards me.
"Yes.......". I shouted out in an attempt to prevent her from coming any closer.
"Really I'm okay honestly". I went on, trying in vain to get myself upright, whilst also clenching my teeth from the pain of my ankle.
"Um..... Where are you?". I then asked, in the hope that she wouldn't venture any further towards me.
"Here". She said, suddenly looking down at me and holding out the wayward red moccasin, "And if you don't mind me saying so Gwen, you look far from alright".
I gave out a huge sigh.
Foiled. There she was, looking down at me and now I felt very, very stupid.
"Here, let me help you up". She said, as she held out a hand towards me.
"Thanks". I muttered quietly, taking it gratefully and allowing myself to be hoisted upright again.
I then suddenly winced at the pain from my ankle as I proceeded to put my weight on it.
"Oh no...... Have you hurt yourself?". Silva asked, looking at me with deep concern.
I shook my head as I held onto the bannister for support.
"I'll be fine". I answered, "I only slipped a bit, that's all".
"Oh, These stairs can be lethal". She added, "If you're not used to them of course".
Her comment wasn't meant with any sort of malice or bitchiness, for I didn't believe she had the capacity to think like that, but it made me feel that she was in fact, living here as she seemed extremely familiar with the place.
"Come on, I'll help you down". She then said, linking her arm through mine.
As she gently walked with me down the remaining part of the staircase, I could see that there were many more framed photographs with inscriptions written underneath them, hung on the walls. I would have really liked to have seen each and every one of them, but that was now impossible.
I was though, truly grateful of Silva's help but more out of being rescued than the pain in my foot!
This seemed to be such a huge place and as we stepped off the bottom of the staircase, I was greeted by a large hallway with several white doors all looking the same leading off in all directions away from it. More pictures adorned the walls, this time they were paintings, some of which I noted to be original oils, but not, I hasten to add, by anyone famous.
Again they were of landscapes, flowers, woodlands and city streets. One or two depicted London, whilst others were of somewhere abroad.
Whoever lived here, if indeed it was Alan Rickman, he clearly loved art.
"Here, put this back on". She said handing me the offending red moccasin.
"Thanks". I answered, taking it from her whilst also still eyeing up the pictures on the walls.
"The kitchens through here". Silva went on, rather annoyingly now dragging me away from the beauty of all this artwork.
She was probably used to seeing these pictures all the time, so to her it was nothing new to really look at. But I liked them and would have wished to have studied them further. My little flat, didn't have any pictures up and must have seemed rather strange to him when he came round, to see such bare walls when the ones here, were so finely decorated.
Entering the kitchen, I was surprised to see just how big and elaborate it actually was!!
It was huge, like something you'd find in a restaurant. I gasped at the enormity of it and could see that Silva was smirking.
"Great isn't it". She beamed, noticing my wonderment,
" I love cooking in here, although I have to confess, I'm not very good at it".
I scanned my eyes around at the silver and white decor with its large cooker, huge overhead extractor fan, massive fridge in the corner and at its centre a breakfast bar with lovely high stools and lamps hanging down over the top of it.
There were loads of cupboards, two sinks and several bowls of brightly coloured edible fruit dotted around the place. It reminded me of something straight out of a magazine shoot for it was absolutely immaculate and to be honest, it didn't look as if there had been very much cooking done in here, everything looked far too spotless.
"Take a seat at the table Gwen". Silva said, pointing at the breakfast bar, "I'll get you something to eat. You must be absolutely starving".
She now turned away from me to face the cooker, as I scrambled unceremoniously onto one of the very high stools as I continued to look around me. Eventually my attention went back to the girl who's back was now towards me and I eyed her up carefully as she worked at making the pancakes.
Of course, she was immaculately dressed wearing a pair of skinny black jeans and a turquoise coloured blouse that was tucked in. Her hair had been pulled tightly onto her head, showing off a long elegant neck and she was wearing a soft pair of gym shoes on her feet that squeaked on the vinyl floor as she moved about.
I twisted my own foot and realised that it didn't hurt quite so much now.
"Right then". Silva said, as she turned around with a huge pile of pancakes on a very large plate.
"There's strawberries, blueberries, banana's, some whipped cream or traditional maple syrup if you'd rather. Or if you prefer savoury there's some grated cheese and some parma ham".
I suddenly became very aware of the fully ladened breakfast bar with all kinds of food before me.
There were several plastic containers full of fresh fruit and a couple of small whicker baskets of bread rolls and buttered croissants with an assortment of little jars of jams and marmalades.
This really was like staying in a rather luxurious, very grand hotel, but I was not in one. I was fast becoming aware that I was in fact sitting in someone's home. The home of someone very rich and also very famous.
Silva was now sat opposite me on one of the stools but unlike me, she had typically got onto hers with an abundance of elegance and grace.
I hated her for that and watched as she now took one of the pancakes from the stack and proceeded to place some chopped up banana and blueberries onto it before adding a dollop of cream on top. She didn't look the sort to have experienced much indulgence like that to me, such was the slimness of her figure and her obvious love of well styled, slim fitting clothing, but looking at her now delving into the heavily ladened pancake, I began to wonder where indeed she could put it all.
"Come along Gwen, tuck in". She said, licking her fingers, "There's plenty here!".
I took a pancake from the stack and placed it onto the large white plate before me. Then I looked at the array........ It was so hard to choose and as I sat there pondering on what to put on mine, Silva was already helping herself to another.
Decision made, I went for some strawberries and sprinkled a little bit of sugar over them, avoiding the cream as I didn't want to appear greedy in front of the stick thin waif sat there in front of me.
She didn't feel the same way though, for she too had gone for some strawberries but was completely covering hers with a layer of thick cream. Then without looking up, or anywhere in fact except at her plate, she delved in once more.
"Oooh...... These are sooooo delicious". She said, closing her eyes. "I just love pancakes".
I picked up a fork and slowly began to eat. It did taste good, but I was so far out of my comfort zone, sat here in this strange house with this person I hardly knew, I was finding it hard to actually digest very much.
Silva, however was having no such trouble as she helped herself to another. Piling more fruit and cream onto it and delving in again. I hadn't even eaten one yet and here she was devouring her third!
Suddenly she sat upright, as if something had just popped into her head.
"Oh, I must remember to save some for Alan!". She exclaimed, "He loves pancakes almost as much as I do, although.......... I could always make some more for him when he gets back!".
My stomach twisted and I felt myself suddenly feeling really rather nervous.
"So don't worry". She said between mouthfuls and without looking up, "Help yourself to as many as you want".
I put down my fork that clattered unexpectedly noisily onto my plate, with the half eaten pancake just left there as my appetite suddenly dispersed. Silva looked up and stared at me as I pushed the plate away.
" I'm sorry". I shrugged, "I thought I was hungry. Seems as if I wasn't after all".
"Still feeling a bit yukky?". She asked, "Perhaps a nice cup of tea would be a better idea".
I nodded my head as she now got off the stool and went over to make some tea. I couldn't agree with her more actually. A nice cuppa would be most welcome.
Now, with her back towards me once again, I thought that I could probably talk to her more easily. I don't know why but maybe I felt just a little bit intimidated by her. I mean, she seemed to know her way around this place, knew Alan probably very intimately as well and all the while I was just sat here feeling extremely guilty about not only my own feelings for him, but also about all the kissing we had done last night. I mean, dear God's what on earth would she think of me if she knew about all of that!!
But I had to know a few things. I had to know what was indeed going on, where I was and if this was actually Alan's home or not. Being kept in the dark like this was truly horrid.
I cleared my throat and took a deep breath inwards.
"Erm.... You said that Alan was coming back..........". I began, but didn't get the chance to finish.
I really wanted to complete my sentence by asking her if this was indeed his house, but already Silva had interrupted by trying to anticipate what I was about to say.
" Yes, he is". She said, "He's gone out for some meeting or other, a luncheon I believe it is, at Grovener house. He did say it shouldn't take very long, but you never know with these kind of things. Sometimes they can last all afternoon".
I glanced up at the big kitchen clock in front of me on the wall. It was nearly half past two!!!
"He has to do them". She went on, "These meetings and stuff. A lot of them are to do with film scripts and theatre work. I think he's meeting with his agent or something today, so it could take longer than he anticipated".
I turned to look at her as she was now bringing over two mugs of steaming hot tea.
"Help yourself to milk and sugar, I have to just nip to the loo". She then said, as she made her exit by a different door than the one we had just come in through earlier on.
I did what I was told and scooped a generous spoonful of sugar into the mug before adding a little milk. Then I sipped at it gently. It was far too hot to take in the gulp that I wanted to but it was warming in my hands and gave me a bit of comfort.
I looked around the kitchen again as the silence within it was quite deafening and I still could not believe how pristine it all was. It was then that I noticed the patio doors, covered like a veil by some beautifully patterned, cream coloured linen.
I slid off the bar stool, not quite as elegantly as Silva had done just moments before as I landed with a somewhat crumpled thump onto the floor. I then walked over to the doors and pulled back the curtain to look outside and was greeted by the same scene that I had looked out upon earlier, only this time I was obviously at ground level.
It still looked really lovely though, with a vast assortment of terracotta pots dotted around, filled with large, broad green leafy plants. There were also pathways made out of crazy paving, leading to several benches, a fountain and a lovely ornate looking summer house, which had a veranda at its front. The whole ensemble was surrounded by quite a high, white washed wall that had trees growing up along side it, that kept all of this totally private and away from prying eyes.
This indeed, would appear as if it did belong to someone of Alan Rickman's stature, rather than being that of a hotel or something similar, for it was just so enclosed. No one could possibly see in or indeed you couldn't see out either and I had absolutely no idea if I was in the centre of London or in the middle of the countryside, although I suspected that it was indeed the former!
"It's so lovely isn't it". A voice behind me spoke suddenly,
"Would you care to go outside and take a better look?"
I turned to see Silva was now stood beside me and I was surprised that I hadn't even noticed her come back in.
I shook my head, feeling a little bit embarrassed.
"Alan loves to sit out there". She continued, "When he gets the chance, mind. I think it helps him to unwind a little".
I turned around to see Silva reaching for her mug of tea and watched as she slowly and carefully added some milk and sugar into it. She looked so serene, so self assured and just so very confident in this place.
But I wasn't. I felt tense now, nervous and extremely anxious, made worse by the fact that Silva was still wittering on:
"He's not a gardener himself, I don't think, " She carried on, thoughtfully, "Gets somebody else to do all of that for him, although I think I'm right in saying that he helped to design it "
"So...... Is this actually Alan's house? ". I suddenly blurted out.
I felt Silva was now staring at me. She seemed quite taken aback by my sudden question, before her face softened somewhat.
" Well of course it is". She smiled, "Where did you think you were?".
I took in a breath.
"I..........I.....Didn't rightly know, to be honest ". I answered truthfully, "Where exactly are we?". I asked, "Besides his kitchen that is".
I thought it best to add that little bit, in case she answered me with a strange little quip, like she tended to do.
"Oh, We're in Kensington not far from the Royal gardens in fact, well.... The borough of South Kensington and Chelsea to give it its proper location. Or if you want to be more precise, Holland Park, you know quite near to where those beautiful Japanese gardens are. Have you ever been to see them? ".
I shook my head hurriedly.
I had no real interest in oriental gardens at this very moment in time. I just needed to know where I was!
" Oh, you should really go". Silva went on, rather annoyingly.
"It's so very pretty. It's got this cute little cafe and a play area for children and huge koi carp in the ponds that you can actually feed! ".
I glared at her.
Why was this person so infuriatingly annoying!
I breathed a big sigh.
"So? This house. Is it really Alan's home?".
I asked her, just to clarify.
"Well yes, of course it is". She answered with a frown.
"Whatever made you think it wasn't?".
I shrugged my shoulders at her as she then went on:
"It's so lovely. Don't you agree? It's right in a middle of a row of these type of houses all along this road". She explained.
"Had you not realised he'd brought you back here last night then?".
"Brought me back?" I asked.
"He.........he brought me back....... here?". I went on.
"Yes..... Of course he did silly!". Laughed Silva, "How do you think you ended up here?".
I shook my head at her slowly.
I did indeed have a very strong suspicion that I actually was in Alan's house, the clues were all here, but I dared not to really believe it.
But what I couldn't fathom out was why?
Surely he would have been better off putting me into the nearest taxi to take me home!
And why on earth was it that I couldn't remember anything about it either?
I swallowed hard as I kept my eyes on Silva, who was still smiling at me.
"Was I......... Was I Very drunk?". I asked her tentatively.
Her smile became suddenly wider.
"I wouldn't say very". She grinned, "But he was having to hold you up a fair bit".
I bowed my head down with both shame and intense embarrassment.
" Oh christ". I then said, quietly to myself.
"I shouldn't worry about it Gwen, I don't think he really minded". Silva said quickly. "I actually think he quite enjoyed taking on the role of protector you know".
I sighed again as an image suddenly entered my poor, befuddled head of me falling about all over the place, whilst Alan Rickman, movie star, was having to hold me up!
Dear God's........ What a state I must have looked like and what a state I must have been in!
Silva had now come to stand right beside me now at the large, elongated patio door and was looking out beyond the garden area in front of us, mirroring my stance but certainly not my thoughts.
"Alan and I love sitting out on that bench over there". She said, subtly changing the subject.
"We simply enjoy chatting about politics and all of that, you know trying to put the world to right, that kind of stuff. But we never come up with any clear solutions. It's just a really relaxing place to contemplate things. We get so chilled out just sat there together, you know". She then turned to look at me.
"Are you sure you don't want to go out and take a closer look?". She asked.
I glared at the aforementioned bench and felt my stomach twist and a tightness developing in my throat.
Was she really just trying to wind me up or something?
Did she honestly find pleasure in putting all of these thoughts of the two of them together, inside my head?
I now felt an anger inside of me.
A deep and frustrating kind of anger.
As well as being totally confused about the reason for me actually being here, I had also woken up from the most horrendous nightmare ever, then I had been forced to dress up like some sort of old tramp, whilst being subjected to being in the company of this simpering, skinny little waif, who seemed intent on being my best buddy, whilst also continuing to put the knife in concerning her relationship with Alan!
I mean, just how much was I expected to take?
"I have to go". I said suddenly.
Then turning away from the patio doors, I replaced my mug of untouched tea onto the breakfast bar.
"What?...... You can't go........not yet". Silva wailed from behind me, "Stay a bit longer. You've not drunk your tea!".
I felt angry, upset, confused and totally at a loss about my stupid, mixed up emotions. I had to release myself from this situation immediately and get away.
I strode out through the nearest door, thinking it was the one that I'd had first come in through. But it wasn't.
I had inadvertently walked straight into another room with a large, round oak table and chairs all around it. I quickly realised my mistake, that this was in fact a dining room and not my escape route.
It took me a little bit by surprise to say the least, as I was not expecting to see such a wonderful room. I wanted to take it in a bit more, have a proper look around, but there she was, now stood beside me again. The simpering little look she was now giving me made me realise just how angry I actually was.
I glared at Silva as I proceeded to march past her back into the kitchen once more.
"Oh, Gwen, Please wait". She wailed after me.
I stood in there for a moment, trying to get my bearings, looking around me for my next escape route.
I noticed the mug of tea I'd put down on the breakfast bar, the plate of now stone cold pancakes still piled up amongst the masses of fruit, bread rolls and croissants.
Then that little voice began again.
"Don't go". She said, "Please wait for Alan to get back".
I turned around fiercely at her and noticed that she leaned back away from me somewhat, as if she was scared!
But this only served to fuel my temper.
"What! And have him see me....... Dressed like this!". I yelled, pulling the oversized purple top away from me.
Silva stared at me, but didn't really seem surprised that I was angry about what I was wearing.
"It was all I could find". She said quietly and almost apologetically.
I continued to glare at her as she then asked, rather cautiously:
"And I suspect that my spare underwear didn't fit either then".
"Well...... What do you think?". I asked, as if stating the blimmin obvious.
It had suddenly gone very quiet, as now Silva stepped towards me a little bit.
"I didn't think they would". She said, quietly. "But, you know....... That's what Alan says he really likes about you. You're figure, well that amongst other things of course".
I glared at her again. What was she trying to do to me?
Make me believe that Alan actually fancied me, just so that she could get me to stay in order that the two of them could humiliate me further!
I felt properly angry now and had a real need to protect myself and the only way I knew how to do that, was by means of escape.
But Silva hadn't finished in her quest to persuade me to stay as she now took in a big breath:
"Look, That's why I left the make up for you, you know to make you feel better. It always works for me". She spoke, giving me a slight smile.
I turned away slightly from her.
"I'm not in the habit of wearing much make-up". I huffed.
More silence followed, before Silva then said rather gently.:
"Well, of course I should have realised that. If you have to wear it all the time, you know for your job and that, I suppose it stands to sense that you really wouldn't want to wear it on your days off. Me....... Well I wouldn't be without my foundation or eyeliner whatever day of the week it was".
I took in a large breath. I felt awful for being so mean, it wasn't how I really was and perhaps Silva was genuinely trying to help me. But I felt so incredibly trapped by all of this. Just like a scared, frightened animal, that was cornered.
I knew that I still had to get out of here.
"Look, I know you probably mean well, but honestly I do have to go". I said, with a big sigh.
Silva's expression was one of pained exasperation as she now gently grabbed hold of my arm.
"But Gwen, You must wait, at least until Alan gets back. He wants to talk with you about something". She was almost pleading now.
"I think it's of some importance".
I frowned at her and tilted my head as she now let go of my arm. I then felt my shoulders suddenly slump as I now began to relax somewhat.
Would it actually do any harm if I did stay?
Silva did seem pretty insistent that I should and perhaps Alan had told her not to let me leave until he got back!
I took in a breath.
If I was going to stay, I had to know something. I had to know what kind of relationship they were having!
I mean, I could guess. It wasn't that difficult.
But I hadn't heard from either of them what exactly was going on. If they were together, then why was Alan kissing me so frantically like that last night. It just didn't make sense.
None of this did.
"Okay then, right". I said, taking in a deliberate breath.
"But you have to tell me something first".
Silva blinked her large almond shaped eyes at me.
"Yes Gwen...... Anything". She answered.
I drew in another breath.
"Could you then tell me, what exactly is your relationship with Alan?".
I watched as her eyes widened at my question. She also looked somewhat uncomfortable too by it. In fact she appeared to be squirming just a little bit and was holding off from answering me.
"Well?". I asked, getting impatient now by her reluctance to answer me.
Silva moved about uncomfortably for a moment, then swallowing hard she then said:
"I.......um.......we.........we're close, very close friends". She answered quietly.
I took in a breath and remembered that's how Alan himself had described their relationship.
And Silva was being just as evasive about it as he had been.
She'd also answered in such a way that I believed she didn't really want to elaborate on it anymore. But I was having none of it.
If indeed, they were having a close, sexual relationship then I would leave them well alone to get on with it. This close friendship thing wasn't really working for me. I had to hear it from either Silva or Alan himself, if there was more to it, as I expected that there was. Then I would truly be able to move on.
I hated all of this uncertainty, especially if Alan himself had only been leading me on with all this kissing and the stuff he'd been saying to me!
So I was now determined to find out.
"How close? ". I then asked, simply.
Silva shuffled her feet.
"Alan is the most amazing person". She said.
"Well, you must know that. He's also been very kind, extremely considerate and one heck of a good listener to me. To be honest with you Gwen, I really don't know how I would have coped without him over the last few months".
She took in a large shaky breath, as if suddenly remembering a traumatic incident or something and I noticed that her body shivered involuntarily for a brief moment, before she then went on:
"I absolutely adore him Gwen".
Her large oval shaped eyes now began to sparkle with delight as she now said the words that were to ultimately break my heart.
"You could almost say that......... Well....... I'm actually in love with him".
Her words were sincere, they were spoken straight from her own heart and I now knew that this was it.
She was in love with him and I suspected that he loved her equally in return.
Perhaps Alan had felt sort of vulnerable last night when he was kissing me and saying all those kind words to me.
Maybe he was just picking up on the signals I'd been inadvertently giving out and had just tried his luck, like I suppose any man would!
I nodded my head sadly at her revelations but was grateful in the knowledge that at last she had explained things to me so that I knew exactly where I stood and what now had to be done.