Page 151 of Take Me Away

For the briefest moment I watch the woman I love quake a little in the plush armchair she’s folded in. It’s momentary, and then she lifts her chin. And I love her even more.

‘The first I knew about the photos was the day after they were taken. And I knew…’ She trails off, her voice wavering, and I feel this wild protective surge rip straight through me. Just the same as I had when the interview had been recorded and I’d stood to the side, ready, waiting, there if she needed me, as I always would be.

‘What did you know, Isla?’

Isla pushes her shoulders back. ‘I knew he had me. I knew if I told anyone he’d ruin me. I’d have looked like I was so desperate for fame … I … I…’ My hands curl into fists on the tabletop, and Jude gives me a gentle nudge. ‘I would do that.’

‘Do what, Daddy?’ Maisie blinks up at me with those dark blue eyes of hers.

I relax my fists and tap the end of her nose. ‘Don’t you worry about it.’

My gaze turns back to the screen where Fiona Bruce is leaning closer to Isla. ‘How did this impact you in the long run, this physical hold – threat – you were under?’

‘It destroyed me.’ Isla’s voice catches slightly, emotion shimmering beneath the surface. ‘All I’d ever wanted was to be an actress, to prove that I was good enough. But he, he twisted it, so that I was so ashamed I never went back to see the people I loved.’ Isla lifts a shaking hand to her cheek and it breaks me. But then my girl straightens herself back up and looks Fiona Bruce straight in the eye. ‘He stole that from me. It’s not just about the physical things he stole; it was my belief in myself.’

‘Can you explain that more?’ Fiona is leaning forward, knowing she’s on the cusp of the good stuff.

‘How could I go and see my grandmother, my friends’—she swallows here—‘if beneath the success, beneath the veneer of Hollywood shine, was a girl who had foolishly, pathetically, allowed herself to have that done to her? He told me I wanted it, that I wanted fame enough that I’d let him manipulate me. He continued to manipulate me. Told me that if I didn’t perform’—her gaze drops for a second, followed by another push back of her shoulders—‘didn’t do what he wanted, those photos would be public. Everyone would know I’d sold myself.’

There’s a shocked silence in the pub. I glance down and realise I’m holding Maisie tight to my chest, probably hoping that the sound of my heartbeat will drown out the words echoing in the silence of the Ship.

‘But you did get away, eventually?’

Isla chews on the side of her mouth. ‘I think he got bored of me. Maybe I got too old. I pushed back when he wanted me to sign the next three-film deal, and he let me go, but it was too late for some things, too much time had passed. I was isolated.’

‘But you got home eventually? We’ve seen much happier pictures of you printed recently enjoying the Cornish coast.’

‘Yeah, I found my way home.’ A smile lights her face and I can see her glance to the side where I had stood as the interview filmed. ‘Kit Harding.’ And there it is. My name out there. Forever entwined with hers, just as we agreed. ‘He was my childhood best friend. Every summer I’d go to stay with my gran, and the Harding boys were my family.’ Her cheeks pink. ‘Until Kit became more.’ For a moment her smile drops. ‘I’ll never forgive Marcus Vale for messing with my own perception of myself, for making me believe I was so worthless and broken. Trash. That I couldn’t go home.’ She pauses, choosing her words carefully. ‘Kit found me again. And he’s given me the strength to finally tell he truth. What Marcus did to me was wrong. What he’s done to other women is wrong. No woman should ever think her self-worth is so little that she can’t face the people she loves. Kit has shown me that I’m not faulty, or broken, and that I wasn’t in the wrong because that happened to me. For so many years I thought it was my fault.’

‘That’s you,’ Maisie whispers, not even attempting to hide her delight. ‘She’s talking about you on proper telly!’

‘I gathered that, thanks,’ I mutter, heat crawling up my neck.

Jude leans closer to me, voice low. ‘You gonna cry, or am I?’

‘I’m already crying,’ Dot announces from two tables over, dabbing furiously at her eyes. ‘No shame in it.’

The interview continues, Isla speaking with increasing confidence about her gradual realisation of her situation, the isolation, the careful manipulation that made her believe her success depended entirely on Marcus Vale.

‘Many have asked why you didn’t report this behaviour earlier,’ Fiona says. ‘What would you say to those critics?’

Isla straightens, something fierce flashing in her eyes. ‘I’d say they’ve never been systematically isolated from their support network, manipulated by someone they trusted, and made to believe their entire career – their identity – depended on a single person’s approval. When you’re in that situation, you don’t see it clearly. You rationalise. You make excuses. You tell yourself it’s normal, or necessary, or temporary. When you are groomed, you believe everything the person who has control of your existence says. You will do anything they want for their approval. And knowing I did that, that I let someone have that control over me…’

My throat tightens painfully as she wavers.

‘That’s the hardest bit I’ve had to heal. How I view myself.’

‘What gave you the strength to finally break away?’ Fiona asks.

Isla’s expression softens. ‘Sea Salt Bay. Seeing the sea again.’ A genuine smile breaks through. ‘Being in the place where I last remembered what it felt like to be me. I remembered who I was,’ Isla continues, her voice stronger now. ‘The person beneath all those layers of careful polish and public image. And I knew I didn’t want to be anyone else anymore.’

Maisie tucks herself closer to my side. ‘She means us again,’ she says, satisfaction clear in her voice.

‘She always does,’ I whisper back, heart lodged firmly in my throat.

‘And Kit Harding?’ Fiona presses gently. ‘Is he your happy ever after?’

The entire pub seems to hold its breath. Even Ayo stops wiping glasses.