Chapter 1

This is the first part of a companion piece to my story ‘Alison Found, I enjoyed writing about the characters I introduced in ‘Alison Found.’ Due to some pressing RL issues at the time, I was unable to expand the story in the way I’d have liked to have done. I only gave a one-sided view of the relationship. Now that I have a bit more free time, I thought I would fill in some of the gaps, especially those about Alison before the fateful meeting in the restaurant. Even as I write about her, I am still not sure she is a nice person. However, I am convinced she has always loved him.

Most of this story will be written from Alison’s perspective, but not all. It will help you follow the timeline if you have read previously read ‘Alison Found,’ and the first part of Alison’s lament. As I am attempting to fill in the gaps, do not be too surprised if the story jumps about a bit, as I prefer not to repeat too many chunks from the first part. And as a companion piece, I have to make the crass assumption you have read the original.

Many thanks to Blackrandl1958 for her editing skills and to Up11pendragon for his review.

~ ~§~ ~

Alison’s Lament:

The sun was now too high in the sky, and the beach was looking washed out in the bright sunlight. The director called, “Cut,” and I pushed away from the man I’d been kissing.

My face twisted in disgust. “Jesus Christ, how many times have I told you not to use your fucking tongue?” I snapped at the man sat on the beach towel with me.

He gave me an arrogant smile, and I wanted to slap his face. The smile belonged to Giorgio, an Italian model. The storyline had me in love with him. At least that was what the writers of the advert I was currently shooting wanted the audience to believe. My problem was he could not tell where the fantasy ended, and real life resumed.

I stood up and my assistant Lucy came running over, holding out a robe for me to put on over the designer swimsuit I was wearing.

She said, “He’s an asshole; he’s been telling the crew that you will be sleeping with him by the end of the shoot.”

I shuddered; this damn assignment couldn’t finish soon enough: another day at most. Giorgio was everything I hated about men: polished, a Greek Adonis, and as arrogant as fuck.

“Remind me that next time I agree to do one of these bloody things that I insist on a veto. I can’t stand the man!”

“Just one more day,” Lucy said in a soothing tone.

I gave her a grateful smile and thought briefly about the large fee I was getting for this. I wasn’t totally sure it was worthwhile, but it did help.

Roger, the director, came over and shrugged apologetically, “Ashley, I’m sorry, but the sunlight is getting too harsh. I’m calling it quits until later this afternoon. We just need the last of the sunset scenes, then it’s a wrap.”

“You need to do something about bloody Giorgio because if he tries that again, I’m going to smack him down,” I told him.

“I’ll speak to him.” he sighed, “He wasn’t my choice; the client wanted him.”

“Why? It’s an ad for perfume, not aftershave.”

Roger shrugged again; he tended to do that a lot. Although I was well paid for this, I had agreed to become the face of the perfume, as a favor to Simone, the sister of the owner of the firm: a favor, and a healthy cash fee. Simone was an actress who’d had a small part on a film I’d worked on last year, and we’d become friends. Roger was in a similar boat; he was doing another favor, in his case for the brother.

To the cameras, the beach looked empty: a deserted paradise. The realities were the hotel on the bluff above the cove, and the numerous onlookers peering over at the film crew scattered across the sand.

Lucy and I started out in the direction of the stairs up to the hotel. David appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, followed by a second security officer. They escorted Lucy and me through the crowd into the hotel. I stopped a couple of times to sign autographs and let a couple on their honeymoon take a selfie with me. Finally, we entered the hotel and made our way up to my suite. David checked the suite and when he was satisfied let us enter.

I sighed in relief, kicking off my sandals. David closed the door behind him as he took a position in the corridor. With my fans knowing where I was staying, David was ultra-cautious.

Lucy gave me an apologetic smile, “There are a few documents that Betty’s office has forwarded to you. Do you want to go over them now?”

“I need to get out of this costume and take a shower first. Have a look at them for me and deal with the ones I don’t need to see.”

She gave me a coy smile, “Want me to wash your back?” She asked.

I gave the idea of a shower with her serious consideration but regretfully shook my head. “Sorry Loo, if we did it wouldn’t be a quick one, and I’ve got that lunch meeting.”

Lucy smiled ruefully, “Oh well, in that case, there are a few fan emails they wanted you to look at.”

“Christ no, you can deal with them; just reply with the usual bullshit.”

Lucy laughed, and I went into the bathroom off my bedroom. I stripped off the costume and dropped it on the floor. I wished I had the time to pamper myself and have a long soak in the bathtub, but the lunch meeting was important. The producer of my next film had flown in just for this discussion. Therefore, a shower would have to do.

The hot water washed away the suntan lotion and sand, and I felt clean for the first time that day. I wrapped a towel around me and brushed out my hair. ‘Comfort over style,’ I thought and pulled on a pair of soft cotton panties and sports bra. A pair of shorts and a t-shirt completed my outfit.

“Who’s Joshua Thomas?” Lucy asked as I returned to the lounge.

I froze, looking at her in shocked surprise; how did she know that name?

She saw my surprise and continued, “A birthday alert came up on your phone, and I don’t know who he is. Should I send a message or a present to him from you?”

She paused to take in the shocked expression on my face. “Ash, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

In a way, I suppose I had, I looked at the phone that Lucy held in her hand. How in God’s name had Jos’s details been entered on my calendar? He was my sad, dark secret, and I knew he was not in my contacts. He only existed in my encrypted and password protected personal diary app.

“Show me, Loo,” I demanded. She did, and there it was ‘Joshua Thomas birthday: 29 tomorrow,’ in all its glowing glory. However, the app she opened wasn’t my usual appointments one; it was something I’d never seen before. Lucy was my assistant and probably knew more about my phone than I did. Hell; if I were honest, it was in her possession more than it was in mine.

“Where did this app come from? I don’t recall installing it?” I asked, playing for time while I tried to gather my thoughts.

“You didn’t,” Lucy said sounding defensive. Then explained, “It’s the same one I use to keep on top of all of our events and appointments; it’s an event reminder that can search all the relevant data on the phone and copies them all in one place. It’s supposed to data mine all the programs connected to the phone and search for appointments and significant dates. It worked so well for me that I installed it on your phone, as well. I gave it access to your other apps when it asked for it, but I’ve no idea where this entry came from.”

I sat down heavily in the nearest chair, my emotions getting the better of me. My God, it had been eleven years since I had last seen him. I had not even consciously thought about him for the last year or so. My heart gave a little lurch; I had been so in love with him, for years he had been the only person in my world. Then suddenly I had been ripped away from him and not allowed to contact anyone from our old life.

I remembered crying for weeks until my new life in America had overwhelmed me. To protect myself, I had tucked my memories of him into a corner of my mind, only letting him out in private. Now those memories surged forth, paralyzing me. The crappy last couple of days compounded and my emotions surged, tears ran down my face as I recalled what I had lost and how much I missed him.

I felt Lucy hug me, “What is it, Ash? What’s the matter?” Her voice betrayed her concern.

I swallowed trying to regain my composure, he was part of me, and I was not in the mood to share him.

“He was someone important in my past; it was a shock hearing his name, that’s all,” I said dismissively.

“Oh, so do you want to send him a message or a gift?”

The thought of sending Jos a birthday message was suddenly very appealing but impossible. “I’ve no idea where he is; we lost touch,” I had to admit.

Lucy gave me a cautious glance; she knew I was hiding a lot more. Even though I considered her one of my best friends, this was something I wouldn’t - couldn’t - talk to her about. Jos was my past, and unless I could talk to him again, he would stay locked in my memories.

“He must know who you are; why hasn’t he gotten in touch with you?”

“I wasn’t Ashley Bell when he knew me. It was over eleven years ago, and I was Alison. I’ve changed, and I guess so has he.”

She considered my answer, “Your first boyfriend?” She hazarded.

I nodded, but for the moment that was as much information as I was willing to give her. The reason Jos was a hidden piece of my past was personal, and regardless of our friendship, it was not something I was willing to discuss with her. That did not stop me from wandering through my memories of the person with whom I’d thought I had been destined to spend my life.

~ ~§~ ~

I was five when I first met Joshua, my Jos. My world at that time consisted of a street in a little town, two loving parents and a cat. Jos and his family moved next door, and suddenly I had a best friend. I was the princess to his knight, and I do not think I had ever been happier.

Our parents became good friends, and for the rest of my childhood, it felt as though I had two sets of parents. Good for some things, bad for others; four pairs of eyes are far harder to hide things from than two. Our fathers built a gate in the fence between our gardens, I don’t recall ever seeing it closed, and that summed up our relationship. I am not sure when it became more. For years, Jos was my best friend, then he wasn’t; he’d become so much more. He was the teenager I loved.

I was a pretty girl, and once I passed my early teenage years, I was a beautiful one. Jos wasn’t the best-looking boy at school, but he was the only one in whom I was interested. Oh, there were a few that managed to attract my attention briefly, but God help any girl who tried to muscle in on my boyfriend.

We made plans for our future; we were going to get engaged on my eighteenth birthday and get married when we had jobs after university. Our parents and all our friends were happy for us.

I was sixteen when the snake in the grass appeared. Mum had gone back to work several years earlier. She had been a secretary at a small electronics firm when she met my Father. After I went to school, she went back to work part-time. A few years later, she was working full time as the PA to the company owner. He decided to retire, and as the company held several unique patents, he was able to sell the company to an American investment group for an obscene sum. He sold the company with a guarantee that all the employees would be protected. In fact, he went further: if the buyers tried anything that put the company or its employees at risk he had an option to buy back the company for a nominal sum.

Because of this, the investor’s group sent over one of their top executives from America, to manage and expand the company. His name was Chad Stevens, and he became Mum’s new boss. I don’t know when their relationship changed from that of work colleagues to lovers, but they’d been having an affair for several months when my father found out.

Jos had been in Australia when my world disintegrated. It was the first time we’d been apart for more than a few days since we were children. His grandfather had been in an accident and was not expected to survive his injuries. Jos’s family had flown over to be with him.

If Jos had been with me, then I’m not sure if the mess that occurred would have happened. I fell sick at school, and if Jos had been there, they would have let him take me home. As he wasn’t, the school tried calling both of my parents; they could only leave a message for Dad, but mum answered. She and Chad came to collect me; I went straight to bed when I got home and never thought about why Chad had been with her.

I discovered later that they had been at Chad’s flat for a ‘lunch meeting’ when the school called. She was not told that they had also left a message for Dad, just that they had not been able to contact him. When he walked in, he saw that she and Chad had decided to continue their ‘lunch meeting’ on the sofa.

I woke up to shouts, screaming and the sound of furniture breaking. I stumbled and fell on the stairs and broke my arm. That stopped the argument, as I was rushed off to the hospital. Mum and I never went home, at least I didn’t, Mum must have, as she’d packed most of my things and they were in the hotel suite we stayed in for the next couple of days.

The next thing I knew, we were at Heathrow airport checking in for a flight to America. I was still a child as far as the law was concerned, even though I was seventeen and a half years old. It was easy for my mother to book everything for me. I was taking strong painkillers because of my broken arm, and I was in a bit of a daze.

It wasn’t until we had arrived at Chad’s family’s cabin that I remembered I’d not left any messages for Jos. I’d had no way of contacting him in Australia; he’d been calling me when he could. I had not been in such a daze when we left England that I hadn’t even thought to leave a message for him, nor could I when we arrived. The cabin was so remote that there was no phone reception or internet at the cabin. I couldn’t even write him a letter, as no one would take a letter into town for me. We ended up staying at the cabin for a couple of months until the investment group needed Chad to manage a group of companies in Texas.

Mum admitted to me many years later that if Dad hadn’t found out about her and Chad, the affair would probably have fizzled out in a couple of months. As it was, she and Chad got married about six months later.

Once we were settled in Texas, I wanted to contact Jos. That’s when I was told my father had been threatening mum and I wasn’t allowed to contact anybody who could let him know where we were. Even now I’m not sure why I accepted the situation; there were so many ways I could have got a message through to Jos in secret. I didn’t, and soon I was wrapped up in the pain of starting a new school in a new country, with subjects I’d never heard of and a completely alien social life. I was able to place my thoughts of Jos in the corner of my mind and keep him wrapped up just for me.

The fact I was pretty, I spoke with a ‘cute’ accent, and was obviously still pining for a lost boyfriend, and not interested in starting a new relationship, eased my acceptance within the school social groups. None of the girls saw me as a rival for their boyfriend’s attention. It wasn’t until over a year later at university that I even considered dating another boy. I lost my virginity to a track and field athlete, a painful and messy evening that left me bitter for many reasons.

Foremost was the sickening realization I’d given myself to a man I didn’t really like, and given him a gift I’d promised to Jos. My happy memories of Jos had a resurgence and ‘what would Jos expect me to do,’ became a mantra for me during my university years. My roommate, Zoe, a very pretty bisexual Creole girl from Louisiana, found me sobbing on my bed, and I told her about the sex and how much I missed Jos. Zoe had a gorgeous body with skin that was a beautiful shade of light coffee. She hugged me, held me tight, and we talked all through the night, and finally, I fell asleep in her arms.

She became my best friend, and after I discovered my feminine side, we became lovers. Again, I let my memories of Jos drift back into the recesses of my mind. Zoe was a legacy pledge for an all-female sorority on the campus, and she managed to get me accepted as well.

For the remainder of my university life, Zoe and I was a couple who would occasionally share a man. Unfortunately, while she enjoyed the men, I would compare them to my memories of Jos, and they would come up short.

I graduated with a degree in fine arts and the bonus of a deep-seated love of theater. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Zoe and I accepted that our relationship wasn’t going to last past our graduation. We parted as best friends and would meet up every now and again, sometimes as lovers, others not.

While my stepfather, Chad, wasn’t my favorite person, he did care about me and was pivotal in the next steps in my life. The investment corporation he worked for had their fingers in a multitude of diverse companies. Chad was now the senior director for new acquisitions, which gave him a seat on the board.

A few weeks after I’d graduated and moved back home, he and I sat down to discuss my future.

“So Alison, what are your plans? I can find you an entry position at one of our divisions if you are interested?” he suggested.

One thing I was sure of was that I wasn’t interested in was an office job. I’d toyed with the idea of working in a museum or art gallery, but I kept thinking about the fun I’d had in the amateur dramatics club.

“I hadn’t considered that,” I admitted. “I was hoping to find something in the arts or theater. I love acting, I was in a couple of plays last year, and I really enjoyed everything about it, but I don’t think I’m good enough to try that as a career.”

“I think you are; we saw you in one of those plays. You were very good. How about going to a drama school?”

It had crossed my mind, but not seriously. Now he mentioned the possibility, I was intrigued. I gave him a hesitant nod.

He pondered for a while. “The company is supposed to offer some scholarships, and I seem to recall there was a number in the arts and drama field. Let me check for you.”

He was as good as his word and that fall, I was enrolled on a two-year drama course at Chapman University in California. I didn’t need the scholarship; Chad was happy to pay his step daughter’s way. What the corporation did for me was to open the doors, to help me get one of the highly contested places on the course. All the rest was up to me. The course cemented my path as an actress. I enjoyed learning all the different aspects of creating a film or a play, but it was acting that became my first love. I started small, joining the local drama group, and then acquiring small parts on film and the television.

As my career started to take off, Chad stepped in again, helping me by putting me in touch with Betty Ziegler, an influential agent who did an outstanding job in getting me noticed by the right people. By the age of twenty-five, I’d had roles in several films and television shows. I have been featured in the last couple of films. I had one Oscar nomination as best supporting actress and had changed my name, (I didn’t win, at least not that time).

I no longer went by my name Alison Peters; I hadn’t let Chad adopt me after he married my mother, even though he’d offered. So legally I was still a Peters, but the name I’d decided on for my acting career was Ashley Bell.

I was a natural actress and a damn good one. I found it easy to become the character I was playing. That led to the critics’ approval and the audience’s appreciation. As my fame increased, along came all the issues associated with it: false friends, intrusive journalists, and photographers. I got so used to the media circus and the need for security that it all became second nature to me. I never traveled without a team of bodyguards, finally settling on David, an American ex-secret service agent, as the head of my security team.

For a year I overdosed in the fame and took the adoration of the public as my due. I was invited to every party of consequence and tried lovers of both sexes, but I was never comfortable with any of them. I later realized I measured all of them against my memories of Jos. Sex had become a meaningless bodily act with only the goal a moment of pleasure to look forward to. I was standing at the top of a slippery slope when a tiny thing happened that helped shock me out of my destructive spiral.

It was a simple thing; I broke the gold chain that I wore around my neck: a simple thin gold chain with a gold heart on it. Jos had given it to me for my sixteenth birthday, and I’d worn it ever since. Only when it was necessary for a role I was playing would I take it off.

Lucy discovered me sitting on the bathroom floor, tears streaming down my face, the heart and the broken chain clutched in my hand. It was the last thing I had that linked me to Jos, and at that moment, I was as broken as it was.

Lucy had started working for me about six months earlier, and I’d never told her about Jos and the circumstances under which I left him, nor could I now. Jos was my secret, my dream, but even without that knowledge, Lucy seemed to understand how important the broken chain and locket was to me. She found a jeweler to repair the chain and helped me pull myself together.

She became one of my closest friends, and a part-time lover when I needed her. She was a sounding board for my fears and insecurities while organizing my career in a way I couldn’t do myself. I took a good look at what I’d become, and I didn’t like what I saw. I knocked the excesses on the head. I stopped playing Russian roulette with my life and my body: no more casual sex. Oh, that’s not to say I gave up on sex entirely, I enjoy it too much, but less was better, and I was a lot more discerning about my choice of partner.

~ ~§~ ~

I found it hard to concentrate during lunch with the producer; my mind was still focused on thoughts about Jos. I was to be the female star of the film, a romantic tearjerker, set mainly in present-day Vietnam. He and the director had narrowed down the choice of a co-star down to two actors. They wanted my input on who I’d feel most comfortable with.

I hadn’t worked with either, before, I’d met both in the past at functions and parties, but neither had made much of an impression with me. Jerry gave me their folders, and I flipped through them while we waited for our food to arrive.

I’ve known Jerry for several years. He’d produced the last two films I’d been in, and I thought of him as a friend. If he hadn’t been gay, I’d quite liked to have taken our friendship further. Conversely, he knew me, and he knew when I was distracted.

“So,” he said, “I love your new hair color.”

“Hmm,” I replied absently. Then my head shot up, “What are you on about; I haven’t changed it.”

“I know, but you’ve been pretending to read that same page for the past five minutes. What’s going on, Ashley, you are usually so much more focused.”

I put down the offending page and gave him a week smile. “Sorry, I had a bit of a shock earlier. I was reminded of an old friend I’ve lost touch with.”

Jerry knew a little about my past. “I’m guessing it was from before you came to the States?”

I gave him a nod, “He was my first boyfriend, my first love and I’d completely forgotten it’s his birthday tomorrow. I needed a calendar on my phone to remember.”

“Ahh, first love; such an ethereal thing. So why so sad?”

“Because he meant the world to me, and I made no effort to keep in touch after Mum brought me here.”

I gave Jerry a considered look and opened up. “Josh was the boy next door,” I told him.

“Literally or figuratively?”

“Literally, he actually lived next door, and we grew up together. I don’t think I ever looked at another boy while we were together. We were going to get engaged on my eighteenth birthday.”

“So what happened?”

“Mum’s affair with Chad happened, that’s what. Dad found out about it, and the next thing I knew was I was in America and not allowed to contact Josh.

“You didn’t phone him, or there’s that thing called email. I hear that works quite well.” I heard the disbelief in his voice.

“Damn you, Jerry, I didn’t get an opportunity. There were reasons not to contact him that my mother convinced me were reasonable.”

He smiled at how clumsy my last sentence had been, and that took the anger from me. “How often do you think about him?”

“Subconsciously, every time I realize the man I’m with isn’t him.”

“Ahh.”

“Ahh, what?”

“It explains all the stories about the drunken flings you used to have in the past. Sex with no commitment; so you don’t have to compare them to him. Why didn’t you go looking for him?”

That was the crunch of the issue, why hadn’t I? I gave Jerry the most honest answer I could. “At first it was because when I was free to contact him, I was too embarrassed. I’d abandoned my soulmate and was more interested in enjoying my new life here. Later, well, later I was scared if I did find him; he’d have moved on and had a new life.”

I gave Jerry a look, hoping that he understood what I was trying to say to him

It seemed he did because he replied, “So if you don’t know, then there’ll be a chance for both of you?”

“Yes,” I said gratefully. “He was my unobtainable goal.”

Jerry gave me a calculating look. “You aren’t fooling yourself, girl. If a birthday reminder was able to do this to you, then you are still head over heels in love with the man.”

I knew he was right and I resolved that as soon as the upcoming film was in the can, I was going to find Jos. I needed to make it right, and just by making that decision I felt so much better.

Jerry tapped the folders on the table and said, “Back to business. I do need to know which of these two you want as a co-star.”

I placed their photos side by side. “Did they both audition?”

“Roger and I saw both of them last week.” Roger was the film’s director and a longtime friend of Jerry’s.

“And?”

“They were both good, to be honest. We couldn’t decide, so we thought we’d leave the choice to you.”

One of my options vaguely reminded me of what I thought an older Jos would look like. For no other reason than that, I tapped his picture. “Him, I think.”

“Simon Davies it is then.”

Two days later I was back in Los Angeles; I’d finished the photo shoot and filming the advert. I’d bought my villa in the hills after the success of my first film. It wasn’t a big place, but the views were impressive, and it had a nice pool. It didn’t feel like home, nor did Mum and Chad’s place in Texas. The place I felt most at home was an apartment I’d bought in London, a place that had views along the River Thames. I’d grown up in a town close to London, and I had many enjoyable memories of days with Jos spent in old London Town.

The script was based on an Australian best seller about a young woman seeking to find out what had happened to her grandfather who had gone missing during the Vietnam War. I’d been surprised to find out that the Australians had troops in the war. Being British, I’d known little about it. It had been a very brief chapter in my history of the 20^th-century textbook. So, I’d been intrigued when Jerry had sent me both the draft script and book on which it was based, suggesting there was a great film hiding in its pages.

He was right; there were the seeds of a great film hidden among the pages. The book was a poignant reminder of the war, but at its core, it was a love story between the granddaughter, her American guide and the beautiful countryside. In the book, the growing love affair between the two main characters was described in the abstract, which was the weakest part of the storyline. It was this I’d wanted to change in the script.

I’d been intrigued to find out how based in fact the story was. If it were factual, it would limit how much we’d be able to adapt the book, and it needed a fair amount of work, so I set up a call with the author.

“None of the main characters is based on real people,” the author, a man in his forties, told me. “It’s all an amalgamation of stories about the war my uncle told me; he served over there. I made up the granddaughter, and as far as I know, there are no Australian servicemen unaccounted for now.”

I told him I’d read his book, but I felt the film needed a more powerful love affair than the one he’d written. He agreed and admitted he’d toned that part of the book down at his publisher’s insistence, hoping to appeal to a wider audience.

“I’ve still got my original drafts if you’d like to read them,” he said. They should give you an idea of the story I was trying to write.”

He e-mailed the files, and I printed them. The sections I had been worried about were a lot stronger and a damn sight more exotic.