The Winter Guest *Complete*

Chapter 16

“ Nearly sixty year old Alan Rickman (actor in Die Hard, Sense and Sensibility and known for his stage performance in Private Lives) is currently working on the fifth Harry Potter movie, The Order of the Phoenix, in which he once again portrays the evil Professor Severus Snape.
The filming of the fifth film partly takes place in Toulouse, France, because of budget reasons. Director David Yates confirmed rumours of Rickman getting injured while filming.
But our reporter found out that medical care in France is not that similar to English health care…… “

I threw the magazine aside. The publishers even had the nerve to send me a copy. The story they’d made up around the photo’s was absolute rubbish. Stating that Alan had been rude and stubborn and not taken the director’s advice by doing the stunt by himself. Suggesting that his relationship had been bad for years, and that I, “a young English woman probably working in the hotel that Rickman stayed in” was earning some extra money that night.
The photo’s were even worse. Nearly three pages were filled with un-sharp shots of us, kissing, lying in bed, taking of our clothes. Everything. I had never felt so humiliated in all my life. I pulled the plug from the phone, journalists kept calling. Actually everyone kept calling. My mind was a blur and I rested my head in my hands as for the hundredth time that day tears welled up in my eyes.

December 24 – Christmas Eve –


“Au nom du Père et du Fils et du Saint-Esprit….”

The low baritone voice of the preacher made me close my eyes and fold my hands. The church was packed, but there was silence. Everybody was praying in silence. It was cold and the smell of incense was making me nauseous, but I still felt comfortable. Nothing had seemed certain over the past few weeks, so many things had happened. The familiar feeling of being in church on Christmas Eve was nice.
When I left the church an hour and a half later, the cold wind blew in my face. I hardly felt it as I started walking back to the hotel. I knew that on arriving there, that Jean-Pierre would be there, with nice wine, little snacks of foie gras and chèvre. And our dearest friends. But the one I longed for the most, wouldn’t be there.
Alan had been on my mind, in my dreams, in my nightmares ever since he’d left the hotel. Or, as I said it to myself, since he’d left me. Would he be sitting near a fire right now? Enjoying a cup of tea, chatting? Thank goodness the storm around our pictures had died an early death. There had been an invasion of reporters in the hotel, but when they found out that he wasn’t there anymore, and wasn’t planning on coming back either, they’d left pretty fast. I could only imagine what it was like for him in London. After all, the pictures where most offensive for him.
The bright lights of the hotel shimmered in the distance. For the first time I felt some sort of ease glide over me. Christmas wouldn’t be that bad, all my friends where there, at least I didn’t have to do any work. All the cast and crew had left today. I sighed. I recalled what Gary had said as he had left the hotel.

“So, you finally had him then,” he had said as he was waiting for the taxi bringing him to the airport.

“Please, shut up,” I had replied not very gently.

“You really like him don’t you?” He seemed to had find that very funny by the look on his face.

“Just..leave me alone.”

He was quiet for a while and then he had said more seriously, “I have never seen him like that you know, you should fight for him.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” I didn’t want to discuss this with him, but I couldn’t help myself.

“I think you haven’t tried hard enough.”

“How would you know?”

He shrugged and then the taxi arrived.

Just enjoy yourself, I thought as I pushed open the front doors of my hotel and I felt warm air travelling towards me. Laughter and happy voices where ringing inside, I made myself smile and walked towards Jean-Pierre.

“Good to see you smile again,” he said as he handed me a glass of cider.

“Thanks, I’m sorry if I haven’t been very…..well you know,” I lowered my eyes.

“Merry Christmas Katie,”

“Merry Christmas Jean-Pierre,” and I downed the cider.

A couple of hours later, I felt a lot better. The drinks had made my head fuzzy and I felt relaxed. People were heading home and I decided to call it a day too.

“Kate! I forgot to give you this,” Jean-Pierre was already half on his way as he pulled his hand from his pocket.

“Mr. Oldman called when you where in church, I promised I ‘d pass you the message.” He gave me a folded paper and I stared at it surprisingly. Unfolding it I saw what was scribbled down by Jean-Pierre.

“ Just call him. He misses you and he is alone over Christmas. Fight for him Kate.”

Underneath it was a phone number.

“He’s gone crazy,” I muttered as I left for my room. There was no way I was going to call Alan. He’d think I was mad.

But as I lay in my bed, the paper unfolded next to my phone, I couldn’t sleep. How would Gary know that Alan was missing me? Was he just playing around again? Or was this serious? Would I have the guts to call him? It was too late already.
I picked up the phone automatically and dialled the number. What was I going to say?

“Hello?”

In shock I listened to Alan’s voice. My God it was him. I trembled and I felt the receiver glide from my hands.

“Hello?”

I realised I hadn’t spoken yet. I couldn’t say anything though, the words seemed to get stuck in the back of my throat.

“Kate? Is that you?”

“Alan?” it was only a whisper.

“Kate? Say something.” He sounded softer all of a sudden

“Alan, I….I….” it wouldn’t come out.

“I miss you Kate,” he said.

Tears filled my eyes as I heard myself say, “I’m going to fight for you.”