The Segment (Completed)

32. The Lovers Nest

(unedited)

It had been a long day yesterday and today was the final shoot day, today they were going to go to the chateau. The home in which his mother killed herself. Richard leaned forward, touching his forehead to the tiled wall in front of him as the hot water continuously pounded on his back. He knew that he was on the brink of an anxiety attack and the only thing that kept him hinged was his race-horse-like focus on Farrah; on her, her dreams, her wants, her aspirations, and her ambitions. He was well aware that no amount of medicine or breathing exercise can bring him back if he lost his focus today.

He wanted her to be a success. He wanted to prove all those naysayers wrong. He wanted her to prove that with determination anything can be conquered, even your worst fears. And today, Richard was going to walk into the scene of his nightmares willingly. He had not stepped foot into that place since the day his mother died, always opting for hotels instead.

He breathed deeply, in and out – a steady rhythm to calm his racing heart. The steam that filled the room warmed him to the very last pore. He desperately wished that instead of the hard tiles under his palms, there was an expanse of warm flesh. Something that he could grip, that he could mold to swallow the echoes of his memories. Somewhere where he could bury himself in and just for a minute forget about everything that haunts him. His palm connected to the wall harshly and he restarted his breathing exercises. He knew that today was going to be one of the most difficult days in his life.

***

The calm and solace that Farrah had found in her Fajar salah ebbed away slowly as she looked out the window, watching as the streets grew quiet as they gained distance away from the city of Paris. Paris, the city of love. Farrah twirled the edges of her hair and rubbed it absentmindedly against her lips.. The charm of Paris had always intrigued her; the history, the culture, the fashion, the art, the passion. And today, she was allowed the privilege to enter such a building that had held her attention for the longest of times. She remembered watching the funeral on the tele with her mum, and in its backdrop was this gorgeous chateau.

A small private estate owned by His Highness Prince Charles and his wife, Princess Elizabeth. The rags had dubbed it, The Lovers Nest as the Prince and Princess honeymooned over there and continued to frequent the chateau until that day. The day they found her in there. Hanging of the chandelier in her room. Of course, the first thing that was in everyone's mind was 'foul play'. That somebody had had the princess killed and staged it to look like a suicide. The never found a note. They never found anything until they started packing up and found her diary.

In there the princess revealed all her secrets. How she was constantly afraid of being alone. How she felt her children were never hers. She knew she was pregnant with all three of them but there was some part of her that didn't believe that they were hers. She constantly showered them with attention, be it with affection of just plain ol' money to assuage the guilt she felt at not being able to connect with them at a baser motherly level.

She was constantly plagued by thoughts of how her husband, who even though was madly in love with her, could be cheating on her. In the days leading up to her death were the worst; she kept hearing voices and she felt as though she was being watched. There was minimal staff at the chateau, something the Princess herself had requested and that made it all the worse for her already fragile mental state of health.

Farrah gripped the pages of the printout tightly as the sun rays began to peak through the clouds. She had never thought that Princess Victoria would allow her the full copy of the Princess' diaries, but she did. The only available content of the diaries were the excerpts that were allowed public by the Palace. Victoria had sent over a box full of diaries and wishes of good luck. As she sat and read each and every word, she wondered if Richard had ever read them. And today, that was one of the questions that she would be asking him while filming.