I watched him stride off. Thanks for ruining a great night, Edgar. If he had won and I hadn’t, I would have thrown myself into the celebrations for his sake and I would have trusted him if an ex got up and dedicated an award to him –maybe, hard to say, whatever. But I did win the award for his film. I sent a quick text to Cassie to let her know I was on my way if they wanted to grab a cab and meet me at the industry party. We were catching up with Nelly and Lockwood there and I was going to get Sara, Cassie and their partners in as guests. Plus, I wanted them to hurriedly evacuate Edgar’s apartment before he got home! I warned her he was coming home … if they were still watching the awards, she’d know the drill!
I went and did my final interviews which were a nightmare. The publicity team had to keep telling the journalists to stick to questions about the award, not Heath’s announcement and when that seemed futile, I was ‘released’. I breathed a sigh of relief and took off. Twenty minutes later I caught up with my friends at the industry party. They were so happy for me, thank God because I had no one else to share the excitement with. Nelly was full of news and told me that Isabella had thrown Heath’s ring back at him and she was all over social media already partying and having a big night with her model friends, ensuring she was caught on the arm of someone handsome and successful to help cover up her humiliation. I guess we won’t be sisters-in-law now. So sad.
‘Wasn’t it so romantic though?’ Lockwood said, rolling his eyes.
It truly was and I knew that in my heart and soul and every fibre of my being – I've no business being with Edgar Linton. Heath was more myself than I am. I may not be with him every day, but I knew he was out there and there was strength in that. If he were to leave this earth, the universe would turn into a mighty stranger.
I desperately wanted to see Heath, to celebrate both of our wins – imagine if we were together and had both won. I can’t begin to think about what the excitement would have been like. But I couldn’t see him tonight … not if Edgar and I were to continue as normal despite Edgar’s tantrum.
‘Where is Heath?’ I asked Nelly, and she shrugged. ‘Probably out partying with theMeaning of Nothingcrew and cast.’
I hoped so because turning up where I was wouldn’t be the smartest idea or the best thing for either of us.
‘Where’s Edgar?’ Nelly asked.
‘He went back to his place.’
‘Right,’ she said and added nothing more. Nelly was good at diplomacy.
I stayed out and partied for a few hours, but everyone wanted to talk about what Heath said. So after a while, I left my friends to carry on and I got a taxi and went back to Edgar’s apartment. On the way, I grabbed my phone and checked out the banter online – the discussion teetered between people feeling sorry for Edgar, thinking Heath was the ultimate Romeo or feeling humiliated for Isabella. No one seemed to worry too much about me – fair enough,I have a BAFTA!But it was amazing how polar opposite peoples’ views were … Heath, Edgar and I varied from victims to villains. Then I foundEntertainment Weekly’s piece that went up online about an hour ago – well two pieces. One was the serious article by Bonny Hawkins with all the award information and my name in there –yes– the second article was from their ‘Rumour File’.I took a deep breath and began to read.
Entertainment Weekly
Winning actor hijacks the BAFTAs!
RUMOUR FILE
It was a night of nights for the stars and even the critics agreed that the academy got it right with their award list. But one actor stole the show and not for his film performance (although he took home that award too).
The award of the night forBest Showstoppermust go to Heath Earnshaw … STOP … it’s a three-way tie between Heath Earnshaw, Edgar Linton and Catherine Earnshaw.
While Heath Earnshaw is known to love a bit of classic theatre, be still my beating heart because Mr Earnshaw just delivered the ultimate live love ode to the nation – a declaration of his pain having lost the love of one fellow award-winning actor, Catherine Earnshaw.
Keen to show he was the one that got the prize, despite not winning the best director category, Edgar Linton – smooth as cream – gave his woman a passionate kiss and the woman in question, Catherine Earnshaw, was glancing around for the exit doors.
Ah love, ain’t it grand? By the looks of Heath Earnshaw’s fiancée’s Instagram account, that engagement ring is no longer on Isabella Linton’s finger, and we’ve got our spies out to see if Catherine is still sporting her engagement ring to Edgar. Watch this space.
*****
Just great, I groaned. If Edgar hasn’t read this, Isabella will be sure to point it out. The driver pulled over, and I paid and thanked him. I said a quick hello to Edgar’s doorman in the foyer, who told me I looked lovely – bless him, and I rode the lift to Edgar’s apartment and let myself in. Edgar was sitting in the lounge room with a scotch. His jacket and bow tie were draped over a chair, his shoes nearby on the floor. It looked like he had worked his way through the bottle.
Like a good girlfriend, I went to him, slipped off my coat, bag and shoes, and slipped onto his lap, but he wasn’t in the mood for comfort or reconciliation. He got up, lifted me off and then it began – an ugly tirade full of implications that Heath wasn’t good enough and I had lowered Edgar’s standards by associating with Heath. What the hell? He ranted on about the need for him to vet who I see!
‘I’ve tolerated that you wanted to keep up your acquaintance with that miserable, degraded character,’ he said, and I felt myself arc up, ‘I acquiesced, foolishly.’
‘Oh Edgar, how good of you to allow me to have my own choice of friends, until now,’ I said, glaring at him. ‘May I remind you that it is not me that retains that friendship, but rather your sister who is engaged to him.’
‘Well, you can be sure that will be over now too. He is no longer welcome into our home, even if they reconcile.’
I shook my head. ‘Good luck with that. I think that will be Isabella’s choice, not yours.’
He refilled his glass, moved to the window where he looked out over the heart of London, and then turned to me. I wondered how long he had pondered asking me this question or if it was the alcohol talking.
‘Will you give up Heath or will you give up me? You can't have us both at the same time, and I require to know which one of us you choose … now.’
I think my jaw dropped open because I had to gather myself before I spoke.
‘Edgar, except for theWyldegirl commercial which you supported me doing, I have had no contact with Heath,’ I said. I rose and moved towards him at the window. ‘I love you. I chose you the day I first kissed you. What would you have me do to prove it? I told you I haven’t been leading him on.’ I pointed to my handbag on the couch. ‘Take my phone now and check my calls, check my messages, I have nothing to hide,’ I said and gave a casual shrug.