Minor Details

21 August

I didn't have to let go of the fact of what he had done to me and I was no where near accepting his statements or doling out forgiveness. So I had known all along, so what? He didn't have to show me, did he? I didn't want to continue speculation on that line. What I wanted to do now was try and piece together my puzzle. If my sub-conscious wanted to play games and hide the who from me I was going to let the conscious figure it out anyway. A few things from yesterday's little encounter had not escaped me. First there was his approaching me at all. I thought his wanting to reconcile was a move and a check mark for his column, but then I realized he had done so at Pinewood, had not disparaged me at the pub in Islington, so I had to throw that theory out. I had come up with it being him because of his not mentioning the story at all, he wanted to discuss it with me. I had to wash that one too. He had his copy here so the copy at Basil's had to be....yes the copy I'd printed out for Ken. So did that make it Ken? There was the breakfast. Of course Colin knew, we'd had that same breakfast several times. Did that make it Colin? Then again Ken had had breakfast with me a few times. Save the taco one back in San Antonio, I'd had croissants. Another argument for Ken?  Of our short-lived conversation on the beach I relived all he'd said, trying to find anything resembling a clue.

"Colin!... I really, honestly, want you to stay away from me."

"Why? Don't you trust yourself?"

"What?"

"I believe you heard what I said."

Was it just how it went or was he implying?

"It never went away, don't you see? That's what I'm trying to tell you."

"No, I don't see."

And what of my disclosure to Ken that very day?

"Didn't know this. Hadn't a clue."
"Of course you did Ken. There was no way to tell you was there? My mind wasn't about to acknowledge any emotions that were going to divert my attentions from the ole Firther, now was it?  Hell I didn't pick up on the thoughts myself until I was writing this. But there it was, all along."

"Why are you telling me this now?"
"You asked. Far too late for anything to be done about it. Then again, there never was an option to do anything about it, act on it. I don't know. Maybe you saw me as some kind of star stalking slut that got my claws in him. It was never like that. Now if I had recognized that I cared more for you than my conscious mind allowed... Then, what would you have thought of me?"

"I wouldn't have."

"Sure, some American banging two Brit stars for kicks."

"No, I never saw that in you. Ever. And let us not forget I know the finer details of how it all came about. You're much too harsh on yourself in this."

"Am I?"

"Look, from having known you, I realize how this has affected you, your life, his, mine. It's all been some weird quirk of fate, I'd say."

"That's my line."

"You have exclusive rights to it?"

"No, I suppose not."

Something I had said to him I was fighting now as I had back then 'cared more for you than my conscious mind allowed.'  An argument in that direction. I was treading water, getting no where fast. Was it Martin or Lewis, Harris or Morris, Marks or Spencer, the general or his high commander? God, I had no damn idea.

It was an idle day for me, I didn't want to go to the shoot today so I had all this time on my hands.  It was the opening scenes so Colin was involved, so was Ken and Tom and Emmy. Colin's was pretty much a non-speaking part and he only had about thirty seconds of screen time, if that, but it was necessary for him to be in these parts (Eastbourne) today. Tom and Emmy had by far the brunt of the work today and Ken had some decent screen time in it. Then tomorrow, well, I hoped to be there. I was taking it a day at a time as far as attending. It was up to me after all. More stuff at Belle Toute and down on the beach. The ending was to be the day after that then back to Pinewood for interiors. Thankfully I wasn't staying for the Coleman/Katherine in the grove encounter. I wasn't even sure where they had decided to shoot those exteriors, and there were quite a few of them. Perhaps I'd ask, it was the best way to find things out. Three weeks of a twelve week shoot didn't let me see everything but I was sure it would give me a feel for what the end product would be.

I put away my laptop and my tablet. I'd tried enough for one day to sort this out. The flashbacks in my now recurring dream of that night weren't giving much more information on the whole ordeal. I was thoroughly blocking this, though some things were trying to creep back in. I had finally remembered at least arriving back at the hotel, turning on the lights, going into the bedroom and throwing my clothes off as fast as I could. My cohort was still out of range and out of mind. Ken would be here soon, he had invited me to dinner. He'd reminded me he still owed me one, or I did him, from San Antonio. This was going to be awkward. I almost said no, but maybe I could pick up on something, anything, that might indicate, one way or another, the machinations that led to and the resultant meeting in my bed. If it was him he might shy away from anything towards that end. Then perhaps not. I mean, when I'd had those thoughts about him back in London he wasn't married, was he? Then again, so was or is Colin and so am I.

"Ken? You're in jeans. Wait, Tom, Jared? What the hell?"

"Hello to you too."

The three not so unpleasant looking men walked past me to the living area.

"Is it alright if we sit down?"

"Sure, Tom, no problem. Ken?"

"Oh these two? Shooting change, they had no place to spend their evening so I asked them along."

"Did you?"

"Hope you don't mind."

"Uh huh."

This wasn't going to help. How was I going to grill him about the other night with Frick & Frack along. Now don't misunderstand. These were two very fine young specimens he had toted along, but I had other plans. And they were young.

"Well, Tom here was concerned about you."

"Was he? Were you? I'm sorry. I hate it when someone talks about you like you're not here."

"Yes, well, you were in a bit of a state when you left."

"Was I? I don't remember. I passed out."

"You do that often?"

"No, not really. I'm too busy doing other things to get plastered all the time."

"Oh? Yes, of course, you write."

I walked over towards the dining area and began moving things around to set two more places. I only hoped I had enough food for four. I had opted out of going out for dinner and offered to dine in, showing off my culinary skills. Hell I hadn't cooked a really good meal in ages, but I didn't forget how.

"Jared? You're the quiet one aren't you? I hope this doesn't happen when you're filming. I dare say I'd be quite displeased."

Finally a smile. I sat next to Ken on the sofa as we began to discuss the whys and wherefores of the characters they were portraying; all the while I paid keen attention to anything Ken had to say though nothing was forthcoming. Then we got back to my eccentric behavior at the party, like I wanted too. Well I did in a way.

"I was somewhat concerned that you got back to your hotel though."

"Ah yes, Tom, well, I did as you can see."

"Apparently. You seem to be quite popular among the masses."

"Meaning?"

I looked him straight in the eyes.

"You had two of them arguing over who would take you home, or back to your hotel. I offered myself thinking it might solve the dilemma."

"Did they? Were they? Did you? Wait a minute."

I looked over at Ken. Nothing. He wasn't saying and he wasn't giving me anything that I might use to shed light on my mess.

"Not saying it was bold or brazen, they just couldn't decide, or one was trying to be more gallant than the other."

"Tom? I hate to seem inquisitive, and if you can recall my then state of unconsciousness, who took me home?"

"I did, you don't remember?"

Oh...my.....God. That certainly threw a wrench into my investigation. My heart hit my stomach. I got up and headed for the kitchen feigning I had to check something in the oven, even if it was already all cooked. I was now left with a third option. Tom. I hadn't thought of that one. As exciting and appealing as one would think it would be to bed down this young great looking physical specimen, the option had never crossed my mind, not really. Sure I had thoughts of the window shopping variety, but never wanted to buy. I stood in the kitchen, hands latched to the sink felling a bit ill. A sudden cold sweat hit me, you know how it does when you know you are about to loose the contents of your stomach?  I splashed water on my face and reached for one of the kitchen towels but was met by one being handed to me by Ken.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Alright, so I'm not, but it will pass."

"If you're out of sorts, we can leave.....rain check."

"No, no, I'll be ok, just give me a minute."

I looked into his face for any more clues, nothing, only concern was showing.

"Good to hear. I did have a question, didn't want to ask in front of my cohorts in there."

"I don't know that I'm up to answering much right now, but go ahead."

"It's just that I saw the envelope there on the coffee table. Your book? Colin's copy?"

"Yes."

"Do I want to know what he thought, said?"

"You might and I probably wouldn't tell you, but since I don't know myself it's kind of moot."

We stood there having an awkward moment, I heard the doorbell to the apartment and then the door opening. I wasn't expecting anyone as I ran out. I knew either Tom or Jared had to have answered it.

"It's for you Diane."

Colin. It was Colin. I stood about ten feet from the door staring at him and he at me, though his eyes tended to be perusing the room and my menagerie of male visitors. This looked great, didn't it?

"Sorry didn't mean to interfere."

I was dumbfounded. I couldn't think of one thing to say as my mouth hung open.

"I can call another time that is more convenient and less unavailable for you."

Finally able to move I walked to the door, took his hand, dragged us into the hallway and closed the door behind me. First I was trying to recover from Tom's little statement, and now I was trying to cope with the fact that he was here, that I didn't want him here and that he had obviously seen my guests; though it didn't really matter that he had. I took a stance leaning against the wall.

"Did you want something specific or are you just harassing me?"

"I had just thought to discuss your book with you."

"There isn't anything to discuss Colin."

"You think not?"

"Absolutely. Now if you don't mind, I've guests to attend. I've got to go."

"So I noticed."

I wasn't sure I liked the way he said that nor the expression on his face when he did.

"Would you please wipe that look off your face and clear your mind? It's just an informal dinner party. Practically unplanned."

"I'll take your word for it. Certainly, I'll be going then."

I didn't have a chance to react to that blurb as he walked down the hall and rang for the lift. I was sure I didn't want to, but I did. I ran after him and caught his arm.

"Colin, please don't think those things of me. You should know me better than that."

"Than what?"

"Whatever it is you were implying."

"Was I implying?"

He took my other arm, pulled me in to him, leaned down and kissed me....hard; then stepped back.

"I hadn't meant to implicate you in anything. Please, I need to talk to you about your writing if you can find time to do so."

He got on the lift and left me standing there. Just like that. All messed up again. But wasn't I still angry at him? I was, wasn't I? And why the hell was that? I had to shake it off. I tried as I walked back to my flat and opened the door. All I saw was three inquiring facades piqued with interest about my short encounter in the hall. This was going to be a long night.