The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.
~ ~§~ ~
Alison's lament:
This is part 2 of "Alison's Lament," the companion piece to "Alison Found" (https://www.literotica.com/s/alison-found). It was a story that was part of the Siren's Song event. 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 on the story in the way I'd liked to have. I only gave a one-sided view of the relationship. Now that I've got a bit more free time, I thought I'd fill in some of the gaps, especially those about Alison before the fateful meeting in the restaurant. Even as I write about her, I'm still not sure she's a nice person. 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 "Alison Found." This follows on directly from the first part of "Alison's Lament." As I'm attempting to fill in the gaps, don't be too surprised if the story jumps about a bit as I prefer not to repeat too many chunks from the first part.
Many thanks to blackrandl1958 for her editing skills and support. Any remaining mistakes are all mine as i can never resist that final tweek.
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—The walk to the hotel, including a shortcut through the covered porticos of Covent Garden, took us twenty minutes. In the lobby, David spoke to the Bell captain to see if he could get a room number for Josh. I stepped over to the entrance of the lobby bar, and there he was sitting at the bar with his back to me. I straightened my back and took my first step towards him.—
*****
Alison's Lament: the conclusion.
"So that was Josh," Lucy said as we sat in the back of the limousine at the start of our journey to the television studio. "He wasn't what I was expecting"
"What were you expecting?" I asked.
"I don't know, someone younger, less weather-beaten; couldn't he afford anything more than that pokey little room," she said.
"You realize he's the same age as I am, he's been living on a yacht for the last few years, so of course, he looks weather-beaten. You were a bit hard on him earlier," I added.
"I wasn't expecting you to strip naked in front of him."
"Why not, I spent the night in his room."
"But you hadn't had sex with him, I know what you look like when you've been fucked, and there were none of the tell-tale signs."
"Not for want of trying. I would have if he'd asked, I'd willingly been his sex slave all night and would have begged for more this morning," I admitted.
She took my hand, and we slipped into a comfortable silence for a while. Then I said to her, "He's going back to his boat after the premiere; he's agreed to let me go with him. I want to spend some time reconnecting with him, so I need you to help clear up my agenda."
"I'll get started on your travel details and let Betty know your plans. Where is the boat?"
"Thanks, Loo, it's moored at Valletta in Malta," I replied. Then I added, "I expected he'd be upset with me, but I was surprised at how hurt he'd been because I left him."
"Oh, come on," snorted Lucy. "You've been telling me for a long time, how you were his first love, how you'd been together most of your school years. You didn't really think he wouldn't have been hurt when your mother took you away."
"I didn't have much of a choice," I snapped back.
"That's not the point, did you try to contact him when you could, let him know why you'd had to leave. You didn't, did you?"
I admitted I hadn't, and knew I should have tried harder, and that reminded me of Jos's anger at being ignored by my social media.
"Josh said a couple of years ago he discovered that the movie star was his old girlfriend. He tried to get in touch with me through both the agency and my fan site. He said he sent several messages; he showed me a copy of them and our reply. We totally blanked him, yet his messages contained most of my trigger words. I want to know why we ignored him?"
Lucy gave me a careful look. "Do you think you can get any copies of his messages? If you can, I can try and see if I can work out what happened."
I nodded; I'd forwarded it to myself when he'd shown me the mail chain. I opened it on my phone and showed it to her. She sent it to herself and opened it up on her phone. She spent a minute or two playing with it.
She looked up at me with a puzzled expression, "I just ran the original mail through the sorting program the agency uses to identify issues. I did it several times, and each time it got flagged for further attention."
I gave her a questioning look, I knew there was a way to separate the good from the bad, but I hadn't bothered to understand how.
She continued, "The flagged emails and letters get separated into those containing threats, and the ones you probably will want to see because they contain two or more of your trigger words or phrases. Threats are forwarded to security, and they send the ones that worry them to the police. The others are forwarded to Betty's assistant, who double-checks them and then once a month forwards the most relevant half a dozen to me."
"Any idea why her assistant wouldn't have included the ones from Josh?"
She shook her head. "We are assuming it was forwarded to start with; it might have just slipped through the net. I will be asking Betty a few questions," she added angrily.
I left the problem in her capable hands. It took her a few weeks to get to the root of the issue, but in the end, it wasn't all that complicated. It was a case of unrequited love. Betty's assistant, a young man called Kevin, had a fanboy crush on me. He'd taken a few kind words from me on one of my visits to the office and had blown them up out of proportion. He'd taken umbrage at the casual way Jos had referred to me as his girlfriend next door, and the implication that the pair of us had been very close in the past. He'd seen Jos as a serious competitor for my affection and decided he needed to do something.
His solution was to pretend he'd never received the mails and add Jos to the list of blocked people that the agency maintained. That guaranteed from that point onward, I would never see anything that came from Jos. I wanted Betty to fire the little twat, but she convinced me to let her deal with the problem. I'm not too sure what she did, but he literally fell to his knees and begged my forgiveness the next time I saw him. I think if I'd asked him, he would have licked my shoes clean.
The midday TV chat show followed the usual pattern. Andy and Sally, the hosts, sat on a sofa, their only claim to fame their good looks, and a malleable plastic mentality. They were joined by a musical act and a pair of semi-famous soap stars. I was the lead guest for the show that day, and I had a twenty-minute slot to fill.
When my segment came up, they began by showing a clip from the film, and then I was interviewed. The clip was the one where my character was falling in love with Simon's. I fielded the scripted bland, generic questions about the story, and the country it was set in. I felt everything was going well and was looking forward to the end of the interview, only to be ambushed with an unexpected question from Sally.
She gave me a sly look and asked with a knowing smile, "There are rumors that your on-screen romance with Simon was a lot more than that. That the pair of you are lovers in real life, and he has asked you to marry him."
Christ, this was way off the agreed script, and I flashed her a brief angry look, before composing myself. A couple of million viewers saw me admit to her that Simon and I were close friends, but I insisted that was all it was, that the unfortunate rumors of our engagement were just that, rumors.
"But you seem happy with life at the moment, so do you have a new love interest?" Sally continued to probe. "I hear that you've been seen with the heir of the Rossi fashion house, Antonio Rossi recently?"
I was glad for the makeup as it hid my sudden loss of blood to my face. I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself. Where was this bloody woman getting her information? I vowed I'd never darken this sofa again while she had anything to do with the show.
Was that damn man going to haunt me forever? I controlled my emotions and gave her a short shake of my head. "Antonio Rossi is just a casual acquaintance, and we're not in a relationship." I paused for a second to gather my wits. "We met because his father is one of my favorite designers and provided several of the dresses I've worn to the Oscar's."
It didn't look like this was going to stop this line of questioning, so I added. "No, the reason I'm happy is that I'm back in England, and I've had the opportunity to reconnect with an old friend. We were both very good friends when we were teenagers, but unfortunately, we'd lost touch after I moved to the States. I'm hoping we will get the chance to see more of each other."
"Who's the friend?" She asked, hopefully.
I shook my head regretfully, "It's too soon for me to discuss. We've only just reconnected, and I don't want to jinx our chances. He's a private person, and I don't want to put him in the limelight." Then silently cursed myself as I'd admitted it was a man.
Fortunately, the interviewers appeared to accept my explanation, and we moved on to other subjects until the sequence wrapped up with another clip from the film.
~ ~~§~~ ~
Josh aged 30, second cameo:
Ali left for the television studio, and I tried to gather my thoughts. After twelve years, she'd walked back into my life and seemed surprised I wasn't willing to fall back into our old roles, nor how upset I was.
I'd offered to take Ali out to dinner this evening, and once I'd discounted London restaurants, I was only left with one acceptable option to consider. I was going to call an old friend and make a reservation at her restaurant. It only took me a moment to ring Lesley, and she answered after the first ring, almost as though she was waiting for my call.
We exchanged pleasantries, and I caught up with what was going on in her life. She knew why I was back in England, so I mentioned I'd gone out to dinner last night and that I'd bumped into an old friend
"Which is one of the reasons I'm calling you," I said. "I know you've just said you're fully booked, but is there a chance of a table for two tonight?"
"It doesn't matter, you know we'll always have a table for you," Lesley told me. "So, who's your guest; anybody I know?"
"It's a surprise; it's someone you will remember/ that's the only clue I'm giving you."
"You bastard; well, we are looking forward to seeing you tonight, anyway. Will you be staying in Brighton?"
"I'm not sure. She might have to go back to London afterward."
She laughed, "So it's a woman, and someone I know. Well, if she doesn't need to, do you want to stay the night? The kids would love to see their uncle, Josh. You know we always have a room ready for you, and your guest would be welcome."
