by Bea Paige
“Who are you talking about, Ms Hadley?” Ivan asks, stepping closer to the bed. He stands on the opposite side to Erik and me, looking at us both over her skeletal figure.
She reaches for him, and inexplicably he takes her hand.
“She was so young and beautiful. I could never compete. She had this way about her, almost angelic, and so very kind. She reminded me a lot of Isabelle…” The faraway look on Ms Hadley’s face softens as she mentions her best friend’s name.
“Who did?” Ivan asks slowly, but we all know who she’s talking about now. My throat closes over as we wait.
“Svetlana loved you so much,” Ms Hadley says, her voice gentle. I watch as her thumb strokes the back of Ivan’s hand, a comforting gesture from anyone else, but she’s nothing but a viper about to strike.
“Ivan,” I warn, but he gives me a look that tells me he already knows what’s coming. That he’s ready for it. Pulling her hand out of Ivan’s grasp, she points a bony finger in his face.
“You killed her, you know… All those whores you slept with. She was so lost, lying there on the floor with one wrist slit. I wanted to help her, I really did, but then I remembered how she was so like Isabelle. Pure, beautiful, perfect, loved… So when she told me she’d made a mistake, when she begged me to help her, all I could do was promise that I would look after you. Then I slit her other wrist. Such a pretty colour, all that blood…”
“Oh, my God,” I whisper, my eyes widening at the toxic truth spilling from her lips.
Ivan launches forward, his fingers finding Ms Hadley’s throat. “You could’ve saved her. You fucking bitch!” he snarls, tears springing from his eyes as he squeezes.
Ms Hadley doesn’t have the strength to fight back and for a horrible moment not one of us moves to stop him. Thankfully, Anton is the first person to pull himself together enough to react. He reaches for Ivan’s fingers and somehow manages to pull him off her. Ms Hadley coughs, struggling for breath. Not one of us moves to hit the button behind her head to call for assistance. Eventually, her coughs turn to wheezes and then, finally, normal breaths follow.
“You killed Svetlana, and you killed my mother too, didn’t you?” Erik asks, dropping into the armchair at her side. He grasps her hand, not because he seeks comfort, but because he wants the truth. Erik understands that she’s so desperate for his love, that she might just give him the truth if he gives her some comfort in return.
“No, that was Viktor…” her voice trembles and a tiny slither of me feels almost sorry for her, this wasted, wreckage of a human being.
“Why? How? Tell me, Ma. I need to know,” Erik says gently, trying to coax an answer. I know he’ll never rest until he finds out. Leaving here today without knowing the truth isn’t an option. But we needn’t have worried because it appears Ms Hadley wants to purge her soul as much as we need to hear the truth.
“Isabelle was deeply in love with your father, but by the time you were born Viktor had already wooed Anton’s mother and had got her pregnant too, leaving them the only option of marrying otherwise her family would disown her. Of course, Viktor couldn’t allow that to happen, he needed their money after all…”
She sucks in a shaky breath, her eyes glazing over as we lose her momentarily to her past. Erik glances at me, the depths of his pain turbulent and raw.
“Isabelle was desperate to stop the wedding,” she continues finally. “On his last visit to Kirkwall they had a huge row. In the end, Viktor promised her that he’d call off the wedding. Then he got her drunk and dared her to a swim with him in the ocean, something we used to do as kids… He came back alone… And I became your mother instead of her.”
“Jesus Christ…” Erik stands, backing away from the bed. She reaches for him, her feeble arms shaking.
“Please, Erik. It wasn’t me. I loved her.”
“No. You could’ve done the right thing, but you let him get away with it because you got what you wanted, me, him. You’re no better than he is.”
“Please, son.”
“I am not your son!” Erik roars, before striding from the room.
Ms Hadley cries out, the sound like a wounded animal, but he doesn’t return.
“My boy, my Erik,” she whimpers.
Ivan moves forward, but Anton holds his arm out. “I have a question of my own,” Anton says.
“Ms Hadley, there’s something that’s been bugging me for some time now. I have a memory that I’m not sure is real or not. I’m hoping it isn’t…” He breathes in deeply, a great deal of pain washing over his features.
She looks up at him, there’s no affection in her gaze. Nothing. Anton flinches, but continues regardless. “The day I overdosed in my studio, you found me first. I remember you leaning over me. You said something…”
“Just like your mother…” Ms Hadley says, her voice cold, hard.
“And then you picked up the needle, filled it up with more heroin and shot it in my other arm… Didn’t you?”
She closes her eyes briefly, opening them again. A tear falls, rolling slowly over her paper thin skin. “I wanted you to need me. I was losing you all and I couldn’t stand it. I’ve always looked after you, but then she took you from me…” Ms Hadley snaps her head around to look at me.
“You evil witch!” I snarl, my whole body shaking with rage. “You could’ve killed him!”
“It’s okay, Rose,” Anton says with a long sigh. He looks exhausted, weary, but relieved somehow.
“It’s not okay, Anton. Nothing about her drugging you is okay,” I retort.
“No, but I won’t live with hate in my heart. Not anymore.” He turns away from me and looks at Ms Hadley. “If you hadn’t done what you did, I would never have fallen in love with Rose. I can only thank you for that.”
Anton doesn’t say another word. He simply walks to me, pulls me into his arms and kisses me gently, then leaves.
“Just like your mother, Anton. You’re nothing more than a talentless addict,” she spits, her vile words bouncing off the closed door he’s just gently shut behind him.
Ivan glances at me and I know what he wants to do because I want the exact same thing. But murdering her in cold blood isn’t why we came here, and I won’t let him go to jail for this woman who’s already done enough damage. Instead he leans over, and cups Ms Hadley’s face in his hand, turning her head to face him.
“You will never be forgiven for what you’ve done, and any love we had for you. It’s gone. I wish you a long, slow and painful death. Goodbye, Ms Hadley,” he says, letting her face go as tears suddenly erupt from her eyes. When he reaches my side, he grasps my hand. “You coming?” he asks.
“Just give me a moment?”
“I’ll be waiting outside.” He squeezes my hand then lets it go, making sure that he too kisses me. The noise that comes from Ms Hadley is animalistic in her fury.
I wait for the door to close before approaching her. She watches me warily, suddenly afraid. “Are you going to kill me?” she asks, laughing hysterically now. Fear and madness coating the air around us.
“No, I think you’re doing a fine job of that yourself.”
“Then what?”
“I’ve come here to thank you too…”
“Thank me?” she spits.
“Yes, thank you. If you hadn’t hired me, I wouldn’t have met these beautiful, strong, brave men. I wouldn’t have found my place in the world. I wouldn’t have found happiness, love. It’s funny, I no longer hate you. I pity you, Ms Hadley. You’ve done everything in your power to destroy any kind of happiness for them, but unwittingly bringing me into their lives you’ve done just the opposite. So, thank you for giving me these men. We’re going to live a long, happy life together and you are going to die knowing that not one of them will grieve for you. That you’ll be a nightmare finally laid to rest.”
With that, I press a kiss against her cheek then walk out of her room, her screams of rage following me out.
Chapter 23
“
You look stunning, Rose,” Ivan says as his eyes graze over me appreciatively.
“Thank you,” I respond, fiddling nervously with a stray strand of hair that’s fallen free from my loose updo. Turning to face the mirror in the bedroom, I apply another coat of lip gloss trying to distract myself from the fact we’re about to see mine and Ivan’s old ballet company perform at the Royal Albert Hall. A surprise organised by Ivan, and one I’m looking forward to and dreading in equal measure.
It seems so strange to be doing something this extravagant after confronting Ms Hadley only a few days before, but like Ivan said, why should we curb our desires just because one woman sought to destroy us? What we choose to do together is entirely up to us, besides this may actually be our first real date together the four of us. In fact, I think it’s our first real date, ever.
“I must admit, Ant, you do have fabulous taste. I’m impressed,” Erik says as he leans against the door frame looking entirely handsome in his black tuxedo and bow tie. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I flush pink at his intense appreciation. He’s clean shaven, and his hair is slicked back off his face, a darker blonde with the gel, only serving to highlight his amber orbs even more. Erik really does have the most beautiful eyes.
“It’s not bad,” I joke, with a nervous laugh, dropping my lip gloss into my clutch bag and taking one final look at myself in the mirror.
Erik’s right, Anton does have impressive taste. I’ve never worn such a beautiful dress or one as expensive. Made by some unknown designer, this black floor length gown is beautifully chic and understated. The top half is corseted with a sweetheart neckline that pulls me in and pushes me up in all the right places. The bottom half is a silk skirt clinging to my hips and thighs before merging into a chiffon material that floats outwards at my knees and trails behind me slightly. Sewed across the top half of the dress and dotted along the skirt are hundreds of iridescent pearl sequins that shimmer with colour when they capture the light.
“It’s perfectly you, Rose,” Anton grins, pressing a soft kiss against my cheek as he looks over my shoulder, admiring his choice of dress.
“Yes, and at almost one thousand pounds, this dress is probably the most expensive thing I’ve ever worn,” I say, twisting my body to see the light catch the sequins sewn into the corset and skirt. In the darkness the dress is like a midnight sky without stars, but the second any light hits the dress a rash of colour spreads out across it reminding me of a shooting star carving up the night sky. It’s truly stunning.
“Are we ready to go?” Ivan asks, glancing at his watch.
Up until two hours ago I was under the impression we were leaving for Browlace in the morning, but Ivan said he had some business to attend to, and so our stay has been extended. Hence our first proper date this evening. Ivan organised the tickets for the ballet and Anton had disappeared for several hours this morning returning with this beautiful gown, albeit a little distracted. Throughout the day he’s been disappearing off into the spare room to make hushed phone calls. I haven’t asked him to tell me what they’re about, I figure he’ll do that when he’s good and ready. Besides, neither Erik nor Ivan seem in the least bit bothered by his secretiveness, so I figure I shouldn’t be either.
“As I’ll ever be,” I respond.
Anton slides his hand into mine and clasps my fingers. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, Rose, you’ve got us remember?”
I squeeze his hand back gratefully. “If I’m perfectly honest, I’m not sure how I’ll feel watching the dancers on stage knowing I was once part of the company.”
“Me either,” Ivan admits. “It’s been a long time for me too. A lot of memories will be brought to the surface, most of them I’d rather forget,” he winces, pulling a face.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this then?” Erik asks as we head into the lift, pressing the button for the lobby.
“Because the company was a huge part of both of our lives, and I think Rose and I both need to lay some past ghosts to rest before we can truly move on.” He glances at me, looking for some affirmation or reassurance for assuming this is the right thing to do and we shouldn’t just head back into our hotel suite and forget all about it. Like Ivan, I’ve so much emotional baggage mixed up with my time in the Royal Ballet that I know this is going to be difficult, but Ivan’s right, I do need to move on from that part of my life. Ballet will always be my passion, but it will never be my career again and I have to say goodbye to that somehow.
“I’m beginning to come to terms with the fact that I’ll never get to perform in a ballet again, a small part of me had always hoped that one day I would get to perform again somehow… stupid, eh?” I say glancing at Ivan.
“Not stupid, Rose. Not at all,” Ivan murmurs.
“But despite that… loss, I suppose,” I say, trying to find the right word for how I feel. “I am looking forward to it, truly.”
Ivan gives me a grateful smile, then steps in front of me dipping his head for a quick kiss before the doors open and we head out to the lobby and into the car waiting to drive us to the Royal Albert Hall.
During the intermission, I excuse myself and head to the powder room. Our private box has the perfect view of the stage and I’ve been so overwhelmed keeping my emotions in check whilst watching the ballet that I need a second to myself.
“Hey, you okay, Rose?” Ivan asks, following me down the corridor. He’s removed his jacket and loosened his bow tie, and looks decidedly delicious in a rumpled, messed up hair kind of way. I can tell by his appearance that he’s feeling as emotional about this experience as I am.
“I… I don’t know,” I say honestly, because that’s the truth. Inside I’m a mixture of elation and sadness. Elation because the ballet is so utterly enthralling, reminding me why I love to dance so much, and sadness for all the obvious reasons. I never really had a chance to grieve the loss of my career. It’s honestly like losing a loved one.
“Oh, Rose. Shit, I’m such a fucking idiot,” Ivan responds, his worried eyes scanning my face. He looks up and down the corridor then clocking the powder room, grasps my hand and pulls me inside.
“Hello?” he asks, pushing open each stool to see if we’re alone. I can already tell the room is empty, given there are no women applying makeup or making use of the little bottles of perfume lined up on a silver tray besides the run of sinks. Even the toilet is decadent, with red flock wallpaper and a chaise lounge situated in the corner of the room.
“Ivan, what are you doing?” I ask him as he flicks the lock on the powder room door and turns to face me.
“I didn’t want anyone to interrupt,” he says, shrugging.
“Interrupt what?”
“This,” he says, striding over to me and pushing my body up against the sink, and pressing a hesitant kiss against my mouth. “Is this okay?”
“It’s okay,” I mutter back just before he captures my mouth with his and gives me a searing kiss that makes my knees go weak and my mind empty of all the mixed up emotions I’ve been feeling whilst watching the ballet.
When we part, both panting and flushed I can’t help but grin. “You sure know how to distract a girl,” I comment, turning around in his hold and searching in my clutch for a lipstick. Ivan steps back, grins and then bows. I watch him in the mirror whilst I apply a sheen of red lipstick before turning back to face him.
“My lady, Domina, Rose,” he says with an affected accent that makes me giggle. “I am forever at your disposal.” Then he drops to his knee before me, lowering his head. The atmosphere goes from playful to serious in an instant. Stepping towards him, I run my fingers through his hair, loving the feel of the silky smoothness, then give it a gentle tug, urging him to look up at me.
“I’m sorry if coming here has made you sad. I thought it was the right thing to do,” he says, guilt brimming in his eyes. My fingers trace his handsome face, my thumb brushing across his bottom lip.
“It was, it is. You can’t stop me from feeling this way, Iva
n, and you shouldn’t. I’ve worked hard, you’ve all worked hard to open me up. I need to feel in order to heal properly. Thank you for bringing me here and thank you for being here right now.”
“I love you, Rose,” he says, drawing my thumb into his mouth and sucking on it gently.
“I know. I love you too.” I press my eyes shut, allowing him to circle his tongue around my thumb and suck gently, then withdraw it before this moment gets too carried away. “I’d really like a drink, if you wouldn’t mind?” I ask him.
“Sure,” he responds, “I’ll go to the bar and meet you back at our seats in a moment.”
Ivan unlocks the door and steps outside whilst I use the toilet. Over the flush I hear the sound of the door opening once more, and as I adjust my skirt, the sound of the door locking has me grinning once more.
“The interval is almost over, Ivan, we can continue this discussion when we get back to the hotel suite,” I say, smiling as I pull open the stall door. He’s not there.
But another man is.
“This is the female toilets,” I explain, my inner alarm bells ringing loudly in my head.
“Rose Gyvern?”
“No, I think you’re mistaken,” I respond, thinking on my feet quickly.
“I think not.” He arches a brow, a snarl appearing on his face a second before he lunges for me.
I do the only thing I can, I fight back.
Chapter 24
Erik
“Rose, Ivan said you’d be in here. What are you doing with the door locked?” I ask, turning the handle.
A muffled noise from inside has me pressing my ear up against the door. “Rose?” I ask again straining to listen. Another noise sounds; a male grunt. Then a scream.
“ROSE!” I bellow.
“Help!” she shouts back, her cry of fear sending a well of dread through me.
