The Winter Guest *Complete*

Chapter 10

The sound of the door closing was like a slap in the face. My fingers were shaking as I locked the door. My mind was a blur, the room was dancing before my eyes, phrases Alan just told me were echoing through my head. Memories, that seemed so far away now, of our bodies moving together, his hands on my face, his smell in my bed. His comforting words. I missed him already.
Had I gone mad? How could any person make you feel like that after 24 hours?
Allowing myself to feel miserable, I picked up the sheets I had thrown away in the corner of my room. Wrapping myself in them and inhaling his scent, a horrible, empty feeling came over me. Hot tears were streaming down my face and I wiped them with a piece of the sheet. Sobbing out loud I really felt heart broken, maybe it was only an expression it definitely felt real.
I knew that forgetting him was not an option. I also knew that he would be here for some time. I couldn’t avoid him. And I didn’t wanted to either. I had to take Alan’s advice and face my fears. I had to make him see that I could handle this.

“Right Kate,” I said it out loud as if it was of more meaning like that. “You’ve got 10 minutes of crying left.”


The darkness was falling outside, big, shiny stars were appearing in the sky. Their light was so strong they actually made my office look less gloomy. My back hurt, my eyes were burning and the headache of this morning had returned. I did feel satisfied though, I managed to do a giant amount of work. Which was only a way of forgetting Alan. Numbers, bills and reservation details had done their job perfectly. They had distracted me throughout the day.

Biting my fingernails I curled up in my chair. I didn’t feel like going to my room. I knew all quick reminders were gone, I’d asked one of the cleaning help to go past my room. I felt pretty guilty because I never asked them to do my room. But I couldn’t face doing the dishes, washing up the glasses we’d used, and the sheets we’d slept in together.
There wasn’t anything left for me to do in the office, so I lingered at the reception desk, checked the empty kitchen and had a glance through the restaurant. I knew I had to go to my room.

My room smelled fresh and it was really tidy. The bathroom smelled of Mr. Propre and my bed had new, clean sheets. Staring at the balcony door I made a quick wish that he would be sitting there again, waiting for me. I opened the door….

My balcony was empty. The next door room was dark. Would he be sleeping already? Irritated I went back inside, lighted a few candles and switched on the TV. Throwing my clothes off I pulled an old t-shirt from the perfectly arranged wardrobe. I felt bad as I saw new clutter in the form of my clothes in a small pile on the floor but didn’t feel like putting them away.
The bed felt cold. I turned of all electric light and hoped that the dancing flames of the candles and the TV would make me doze of easily.
The candles cast big shadows on the walls. The electric blue of the TV was flashing in my room like a stroboscope. I flicked through the channels. News. News. Comedy. Game show. I switched it off and blew the candles.
Tomorrow it’ll be a better day I promised myself.

Sunday I slaved through another pile of horrible paper work. As if punishing myself.
On Monday I felt a lot less anxiety of meeting Alan. I knew he’d left early to go to work on the set. My office seemed like a new hide out and I spent more time in there then I ever had done. Tuesday and Wednesday faded while I struggled through more administration and conversations with salesmen.

Thursday morning I felt as though I’d been partying for days on end without sleep. The nights were the worst because that’s when my thoughts kept me awake. I knew I had to face Alan one of these days, but I was dreading the moment.

I was helping out at the reception when the phone rang. Dominique, my receptionist took the call and her facial expression made me watch here closely.

“ Mademoiselle, c’est pour vous. Anglais.”

Of course, she didn’t speak a word of English. I took the phone from her.

“Hello?”

“Kate? Uhm.. is this Miss Kate?” A voice I didn’t recognise sounded hurried.

“Yes, who is this?”

“ This is the personal assistant to Mr. Yates. I’m calling from the Warner Brothers temporary movie studios in Toulouse. We’ve had an accident with one of our crew, and uhm, maybe you could help with the translation. He’s been moved to the Centre Hospitalier uhhh..”

“Centre Hospitalier Universitaire de Toulouse, yes, yes the main hospital.”

“Yes, well we need somebody who speaks perfectly French and your name came up…”
Her voice died down and I heard an other muffled voice on the other side and a struggle for the phone.

“Kate? It’s Gary. Sorry to bother you, but we needed someone and I thought of you. I mean you do speak French and he’s asked for you.”

“What, who? This mister Yates? I don’t know him how could he have…”

“What? No, not the director, it’s Alan. There’s been an accident he’s just brought to the hospital. Could you…..”

An invisible rope seemed to have been put around my neck.

“I’m on my way.”

Slamming down the phone I told Dominique that I had to go out and quickly scribbled a note for Jean –Pierre. In panic I gathered some stuff, mobile phone, keys, pen, passport, money, I stuffed everything in my handbag without a thought.

I started pleading at my old, white Peugeot 206 when I put the key in the lock. It was old and shabby but it was the best I had.

“Please, please, please do it… marche-toi!”

The engine rumbled and thank God sprang to life. Pressing my right foot down I hoped that my heart rate would stabilise before I would arrive at the hospital. The last thing I wanted was to be admitted myself.

The parking lot near the hospital was loaded and I spent at least ten minutes looking for a spot. Panting I reached the entrance, I ran to the sign that said “Accueille.”

“ Monsieur Rickman, si’l vous plait.” I tried catching my breath and not getting angry at the hopelessly slow girl ticking in his name.

“Urgence?” She asked.
I nodded unable to speak.

She explained that his name couldn’t be in the system yet and pointed me towards the Emergency Room.

I ran down the corridor, the smell of doctors and antiseptics waving around me. The man sitting at the desk there pointed towards a room. I ran towards the door and was just about to barge in when a doctor came out.

“Et vous êtes la famille?”
“Oui, “ I lied.

He opened the door for me and I swallowed.

“Il dort.” He told me he slept but was out of life danger, I didn’t ask further and walked into the room.

There was only one bed occupied. A black cloak lay on the chair beside the bed. He looked pale, and a little tube disappeared in his nose. A monitor of some kind was beeping and a fluid in a plastic bag trickled down another tube into his arm. His neck was in a sort of brace and a faint purple colour was on his temple.
I grabbed his hand, it felt warm, and watched his chest rising and falling to his breath. His eyes were closed.

“Oh my God, Alan, what happened to you,” I whispered while sitting in the chair. I grabbed the cloak and looked at it wondering. Of course. He had been on set when the accident happened, this was part of his Snape outfit. I folded it and put on the bed’s end.

I wiped some of his hair out of his face and wondered where the black wig had gone.

“I’ll stay with you Alan, I’m not leaving you.” Whispering at his closed eyes I softly kissed his hand.