Page 100 of Broken Beyond Repair
That one made her reach for a tissue.
Alison blaming herself was not what Beatrice had expected. When you keep a secret like that about yourself, there’s the time before you reveal it and the time after. The time between them amounts to a fraction of a second, and you can’t take it back. All views of you change from that point, and not one view will ever be the same as another.
When and how you decide that point is never easy. What difference did her finding women and men attractive make to anyone else anyway? Alison would have told her to keep it hidden, so what was the point in her knowing? Apart from that fraction of a second when it finally happened and those closest to you examined the time before, the time when they didn’t know; when they asked,Why didn’t I know? Was I not worthy to know that about you?; apart from that, it was really nothing to do with them — any of them — and everything to do with you.
I understand you might not want to talk about it, Alison had messaged next,but for what it’s worth the phone hasn’t stopped ringing. Everyone wants you.
There it was, the blur between the personal and the professional. Alison was upset she wasn’t told as her friend, yet in another breath, she was back on the professional level. This was what Beatrice had been trying to avoid — a conflict of interest.
She smiled as she reread the wordsEveryone wants you. That made two unexpected reactions: Alison blaming herself and everyone wanting her.
Hadn’t Alex said as much? We can’t live our lives worried about what others think, especially when they might not even think that way. He’d grown up so much over the summer, matured, even become wise. There was so much to thank Sydney for — if she ever saw her again. Her stomach wrenched at the alternative.
Beatrice reached for the flight information card to fan herself, taking short breaths to steady her tingling nerves. Had Sydney seen or heard what was happening — that Beatrice Russell had come out on television? She would have been in bed when it aired, like Alison. Assuming she was in the UK. Another wash of panic tried to take over her. With a deep breath and self-reassurance that Sydney would be in the UK, it subsided. The beta blockers were taking the edge off.
A brief glance at social media over breakfast at the hotel was enough to tell her it was all people were talking about today. The LGBTQ+ community were particularly pleased with her. That gave Beatrice a warm glow of accomplishment. The hashtag #OutAndProud was trending, with four other celebrities following her lead. It was hardly a substantial number, but it was a start.
It was unlikely that Sydney was checking social media for signs of her ex-employer coming to her senses. There hadn’t been a message from her. What would it even say?Congrats on finally coming out, thanks for ruining my life anyway?
Two weeks had passed since she’d given the note to Alison to post with her book. She may not have posted it yet. Beatrice hadn’t sent it in the hope of hearing something back from Sydney, though an acknowledgement would have been nice.
She gulped at the thought that she may have just made the biggest mistake of her life. Yes, there were cheers now, but what about later? She’d done it with Sydney in mind. What if Sydney had moved on? What if she’d realised that she made a mistake and no longer held an interest in a washed-up, wrinkling actress who was fifteen years her senior?
God, it’s going to be a long, lonely, depressing Christmas.
The flight landed five minutes behind schedule, enough time for Beatrice to feel vindicated in her assumptions about the crosswinds. In need of some fresh air, she made her way through the VIP lounge to the security desk, where they confirmed her bags were being unloaded from the plane and her vehicle would be with her shortly.
The biting winter air hit her as the automatic door opened. Tightening her scarf around her neck, she dropped her sunglasses to her nose and ventured outside. She detested wearing sunglasses in winter, much less at night, but needs must.
A snapping sound came from behind her as she stepped onto the pavement. It sounded like clicking fingers.
Her face dropped as quickly as her head turned and her stomach jumped into her throat.
“Sydney.”
Beatrice removed her sunglasses as they strode towards each other. She needed to see her properly, without the dark filter — to check she was real. Finding Sydney to be very real indeed, she finally allowed a slow smile to creep onto her lips, and the words “You’re here” to slip from her mouth.
They stopped a meter apart. Their bodies could only take them so far; there was still a chasm between them that their words would need to fill before they could cross further.
“Of course I’m here,” Sydney said. “Where else would I be other than hanging around outside the Heathrow VIP arrival lounge? In the very spot you left me.”
“Anywhere, knowing you. How did you know what flight I’d be on?”
“Alison sent me your flight number; I can’t imagine why.” Sydney smirked. “I assume it was she who sent me your book.”
“Our book,” Beatrice corrected.
Sydney gave a light nod to accompany the smile that formed on her lips. “It feels a little out of date already.”
“There’s always part two,” Beatrice proffered.
“In which we tell the world about Peter?”
“Tempting. Unfortunately, he put a clause in the divorce agreement.”
Sydney’s shoulders slumped. “Of course he did.”
They fell into silence, unable to take their eyes off each other.
