by Lucy Knott
I don’t want to disturb my party-going friends who are fully absorbed in the beats and rhythm of the music, so I sneak away when they’re not looking. It’s not difficult with the number of people bumping and grinding. My blood is pumping through my veins, heating up my skin, but the icy air stings my pores the instant I step into the snowy path. I throw my fleece over my shoulders and head towards the base of Peak Nine, where we were gathered not long ago. This time though, it’s only the Christmas decorations lighting up the mountains and the odd pop and fizzle of fireworks shooting into the air, the torch lights dormant until next year.
I walk further up the peak, taking deep breaths in to give myself energy. I can confirm my dress boots are not cut out for snow. I wiggle my toes every few seconds to make sure they’re still attached. The noise of the crowds and bands become faint as I come to a small mound on the mountain. From here I can see the silhouette of the ski cabin, the wires of the gondola and just to my right the giant forest of pine trees looming over the mountains, standing guard.
I swing my hands around myself and clap them together, fidgeting. I wish I had my board with me, there’s something enticing about the untouched snow, the way it gleams at me, like tiny crystals teasing me, waiting to be disturbed by the action, the laughter, the footprints of all the locals and tourists.
The moon is full tonight, like a giant wheel of Parmesan watching over me. I don’t think I’m ready for Mum and Dad’s total vegan lifestyle yet after all, but maybe I can incorporate some changes. I know I want to start looking after my body better, but I’m not sure I can give up my cheese. Do people really live without cheese? I smile at the moon and stop myself salivating over the thought of its deliciousness.
The horizon looks like one of those backdrops they use in movies, strokes of onyx black with hints of deep navies, a splash of baby blue and a drop of purple. The snow on the ground is pure and fierce but somehow delicate and fine. I sit down hoping to ignore the frostbite to my bum long enough to ring in the New Year with such a powerful and sublime view.
I hear a crescendo of thumping music from afar, mixed with a few hundred voices yelling numbers into the air. I look at my watch; the small silver face and the ticking hand let me know that I’m a minute away from New Year.
I feel strange but can’t put my finger on it. I feel so far removed from where I was last Christmas, last New Year. I have learnt so much this year and feel like I’m leaving behind a part of me that I don’t recognize anymore. I want to go forward as a woman who doesn’t crumble at someone’s actions and words. A woman who can be strong and brave and most importantly love herself despite the one person she loved more than anything in the world deeming her unlovable and unworthy of loyalty and truth. I’m stepping into a woman who wants to give all those things to herself.
My bum tingles, indicating the wet snow has seeped through my dress and my knickers, but I’m determined to tough it out. The countdown is getting more raucous. I look up to the heavens, close my eyes and breathe. Five, four, three, two, one … I inhale deeply and slowly open my eyes to the New Year. The moon and the mountains look the same but deep down in my soul, I know everything has changed.
Chapter 15
All I can hear is the sound of fingers tapping across our keyboards. A pot of steeping gingerbread tea rests on a tray between Madi and I, piled high with plates of biscuits left over from our trip to Colorado. My mum sent us home with a goodie bag that I have never been more grateful for; though I have her recipe, mine haven’t quite turned out as well as hers.
We’ve been pitched up like this all afternoon on either side of Madi’s couch, laptops on our knees. Madi is working on a short for Pegasus while I’m hashing out some ideas for my next original script. I love doing edits and rewrites for other writers, but my dream is to write originals and since my trip to Colorado I have been taking this dream more seriously. I haven’t heard back yet from Lara about my first original that I sent off over the holidays, but I have been keeping my fingers crossed that it gets green-lighted. It would be my ultimate dream come true as a screenwriter.
In between notes for plots and characters, I’ve been talking a lot with Bella, learning more about becoming a foster carer and the options that I have. The likelihood of having my very own children right now is slim. I don’t want to rush into another relationship – it’s actually the furthest thing from my mind – but meeting Poppy and Evan opened my eyes. It felt like a sign. Now that I have relinquished certain ideals and expectations, I realize I have other options to make a difference in a child’s life. It’s a huge deal and would be a big step considering I don’t even have a place of residence anymore. There’s a lot I need to figure out both practically and mentally before I bring a child into my home. In my heart, I know it’s what I want to do, but I need to know I can give the child my all. I am both incredibly excited and nervous about it all but have been meditating every day, like my dad told me, to keep in tune with my new path as well as remembering the conversation Bella and I had, reminding myself that it’s OK to make mistakes and be scared, but that can’t stop me going after what I want.
Meditating is certainly helping me to stay in tune with my emotions and to keep my composure as with a house up for sale and divorce papers out in the world you’d think Scott would be conversing with our lawyers but he’s not responding to anything right now.
My lawyer hasn’t heard a peep from him since the papers were sent two months ago when we got back from Colorado. I’ve deleted him from social media, so I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing. I’ve been in touch with a solicitor and set up a meeting in the coming weeks, but they have yet to get a confirmation from Scott either.
I’m somewhat torn between demanding answers and getting in touch with my lawyers to see what more they can do, and simply letting things be and having faith that they are doing everything in their power and following protocol with Scott’s silence. It’s better for me to focus on other things as I’ve come to find that in taking care of myself and focusing on the good in my life, I don’t wish to speak to Scott. It’s like he’s this toxic entity that I don’t want to surround myself with.
I nibble my biscuit thoughtfully, choosing to let thoughts of Scott and lawyers drift away for the afternoon. I have more pressing things to worry about when I witness Madi giggle like a schoolgirl at her screen.
‘How’s Em?’ I ask, intrigued as to how their budding relationship has been going since we got back to London and knowing that giggle can only mean she and Em are engaged in conversation. On New Year’s Eve they were inseparable, and I have never seen Madi so happy and carefree around someone other than me. I’d hate for her to think she can’t be excited about falling in love because of my current situation. She gives me a side-eye and takes a tiny bite of her biscuit. ‘Madi, talk to me. Scream, shout, jump up and down on the spot and be in love. Don’t you dare hold it in because of me,’ I say sternly, making my eyes big and tilting my head to drive home how serious I am.
Madi shifts to look at me again and waves her biscuit in the air. Even with no make-up she looks like a Fifties pin-up. Her blonde fringe frames her structured face boldly and beautifully.
‘I’m not, Harp, I promise. I know you better than that,’ Madi responds. Her lips form the smallest of smirks but her eyelids droop. I can see she’s a little torn. It’s my turn to be patient and let her speak at her own pace. ‘Em is awesome but we’re taking things slow. Neither of us ever thought about having a long-distance relationship before so for now things are what they are. We talk but there’s no pressure, though we’ve both made it clear that we’re not really interested in seeing other people and if that situation did arise, well, then we’d let the other person know.’
I squeal despite Madi’s more matter-of-fact and solemn face. It only takes five seconds before she lets a squeal slip too. We both grin at each other like we know the secret to what my mum puts in her tea (I wish) and mirror-image each other stuffing our remaining
chunks of biscuits in our mouths.
‘That sounds very mature and rather wonderful,’ I say through a crunch. ‘I have to agree with you that she is pretty awesome. I miss everyone,’ I add, swallowing the scrumptious biscuit and thinking of Mum and Dad, their house, our new friends. I miss the fresh air and the slopes as I guiltily look around and realize Madi and I are falling into our usual writer hibernation mode. ‘We should just move to Colorado,’ I say, watching Madi as I do so.
She kind of shrugs, her lips pursed into a thoughtful pout. Does she think I’m crazy or does she think I’m just joking? Am I just joking?
‘How’s your research coming along for fostering? How’s Bella doing?’ Madi asks changing the subject. A wave of disappointment washes over me. Was I really feeling that serious when I mentioned moving to Colorado? Had I been expecting Madi to jump on board and agree with me? Or maybe at least just discuss it with me? But really what is there to discuss? We can’t just up and leave London. We’ve lived here our whole lives. Our work is here, our network, our friends; well, Scott’s friends, it turned out. I can’t put wishy-washy thoughts in Madi’s head and get her hopes up over being with Em with just a throwaway comment. I shouldn’t have said it without thinking about it properly first.
I follow Madi’s lead and ignore my own absurd comment and focus on answering her questions.
‘Bella’s doing great, thank you. I think she might even be thinking about saying yes to Colt and actually going on a date very soon,’ I reply. Thinking of Bella makes me forget my unreasonable disappointment from moments ago and instead excitement bubbles in my gut. Madi feels it too.
‘Oh my gosh, that’s so exciting. Oh, I love her, and they would just be so cute together.’ Madi expresses her approval. I grin in lieu of using words to express my happiness for Bella; she deserves the world.
‘And, I’m booked in for a meeting with one of the social workers in a few weeks to get the ball rolling. I’ve been reading as much as I can on the different types of fostering and what it can entail, and I think this is something I’m meant to do, Mads.’ I feel content and enthusiastic about my decision; a decision I’ve made all on my own.
‘I love you, Harp, and I think you are amazing,’ Madi says, picking up the last biscuit and snapping it in half, handing me a piece.
‘I love you too,’ I reply, taking the biscuit.
‘We’re in this together, you and me,’ Madi adds. I tuck one leg up under the other, my laptop balancing on my knees so I can adjust to see Madi better without twisting my neck awkwardly.
‘Always have been and always will be,’ is my response, to which Madi holds up her half of the biscuit. I meet her halfway and we cheer with our cinnamon crunch, before promptly erupting with laughter. A ping from my laptop draws me away from my best friend’s mesmerizing eyes and infectious laughter, and I notice an email appear from Lara.
I had been getting anxious over not hearing from her after sending in my revised draft over the holidays two months ago. I’m never usually this nervous but after cutting it so fine and struggling with edits for my first original script – having been given only a short extension to rewrite it – my stomach is in knots. Deadlines are vital in this business. If my boss hated it, she can simply pick another movie or get someone in to rewrite my words or cast it aside to the unwanted pile and forget I ever pitched it.
I keep my fingers crossed that the love she had for the original spec means she won’t give up on me so easily. My heart starts thudding in my chest as I read her cheery ‘Hello Harper’ – at least I hear it in my head in a chirpy manner. I have worked with Pegasus Entertainment and Lara now for nearly six years. I’ve built up a professional yet relaxed rapport with her. She has a friendly manner and is always the epitome of fun meets sophistication each time I meet her at the Christmas parties every year. Her emails always read warmly, which has the ability to calm me down and make me want to do the best job I can for her. In all I’d say that she is the kind of cool boss that I would hope to be, if I ever had the desire to be the boss of a company.
I continue reading.
‘I hope you had a lovely holiday. I apologize for the short delay in getting back to you. I’m pleased to inform you that your script has been picked up for production and that explains my brief absence. Things are always moving so quickly as you know.
‘Attached, you will find the provisional outline of the director’s plan, in addition to meetings and filming schedule. I’d love you to join us on set if you can. Can you let me know as soon as possible?
‘Great job with this one, Harper. You should be proud. I personally think it’s gorgeous.’
My chest heaves and I feel a trickle of tears escape my eyes before I can stop them. I’m grateful that today they are happy tears. Really happy tears.
‘Harper?’ Madi simply says my name to encourage me to share whatever has just made me cry. I rub my eyes in disbelief and read over Lara’s words before opening my mouth to Madi.
‘I just got the green light,’ I say, slightly incoherently. My tears are becoming heavier. I’m blubbering. Life has caught me by surprise and I’m somewhat in shock. In this moment right now I have my amazing career, incredible parents who looked after me over the holidays and who poured so much love into my heart, I have my ideas and dreams for the future that will (hopefully) include making a difference in others’ lives and I have a ridiculously beautiful and loyal best friend who has put up with my ups and downs for the last year and two months and who just jumped up off the couch, spilling the dregs of teas from the bottom of both our mugs. I’m happy. I am really happy. What do my mum and dad always say about the universe providing you with what you need? Oh yes, that you must trust in what it has given you and allow it in, allow it to lead the way. I have been given yet another moment to be grateful for, yet another reason to believe and trust the universe and it feels invigorating.
‘Time for a break and I think some hot chocolate to celebrate,’ Madi announces, marching out of the small living room. I can hear her start to bustle around the kitchen opening cupboards and grabbing the saucepan. A wave of goose bumps washes over me. I stare at the email and attempt to blink away the cloudy tears before I can reply. I sigh to myself. This is it. My first completely original screenplay has just been given the go-ahead for production. My mouth feels like sandpaper. Sure, I have been on movie sets before. I have the posters on my phone of the movies that I was signed on to rewrite and aid with. I was proud of those movies. I am proud of those movies. But to have my idea, my script, my characters to be loved enough to be given the chance to come to life, well I’m gobsmacked. It’s a dream come true. It’s what I have worked hard for since I was a little girl writing short stories in my bedroom late at night under my blanket forts.
‘Did I tell you how proud I am of you?’ Madi asks as she enters the room bearing two tall mugs of saccharine hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream. My eyes bulge at the sight of the sprinkles Madi has added on top. It’s a rainbow delight. ‘We’re celebrating – we can indulge in a little sugar,’ she adds with a wink as she hands me my mug. Since getting back from Colorado we have been working on changing up our diets and habits thanks to my parents’ glowing skin and full-of-beans energy.
I’ve neglected my health over the past few years and my body hasn’t agreed with it. My mind needs to be on top form too, so a little overhaul was in order. It’s been going well so far: more water, less caffeine and a notebook full of delicious veggie recipes from my mum.
‘Thank you,’ I say to Madi as she joins me on the couch. ‘How about we take these to the patio and get some fresh air?’ I add, shuffling my laptop to the side of me and standing up, taking a slurp of cream from the top of my mug so it doesn’t drip as I do so.
‘Sounds good,’ Madi replies, following my footsteps. I push open the double doors at the back of her living room that open to the modest patio. The sun is shining but there’s a nip in the air. We take to the two wicker chairs Madi has
next to a tiny table. I take a big gulp of hot chocolate and it instantly warms my insides.
For a few moments I want to be entirely present and enjoy the sunshine and scrumptious drink while I let the news sink in.
Chapter 16
It’s been three months now since I filed for divorce and two weeks since my lawyer last contacted Scott. He has received no replies. It’s frustrating to say the least but I have been far too busy to let it get me down. Moving on would be a beautiful thing. A year and three months have gone by and I feel ready to do so; if these finer details could just be sorted out swiftly and smoothly, it would be great. I’ve done a spot of house hunting, booked my foster care interview and tomorrow, bright and early, I’m off to the Cotswolds for the first day of shooting my movie. My script has been reviewed a few times over the past month and all on board are happy with its current read. I’ll be on set in case any problems arise. If something isn’t quite making sense or doesn’t fit when the actors act out a scene, I’ll be there to adjust when and if necessary.
It’s always quite the thrill being on a movie set, getting to see actors at work and your words come to life. I get a small flutter of nerves in the pit of my stomach as I think about the adventure that begins tomorrow. This script means a lot to me. My screenplays in the past have reflected the joy of romance, falling in love with your perfect match or a dashing stranger, but this one, this one looks at love in a different light. The nerves heighten when I think about Pegasus introducing it to the rest of the world this Christmas. Will the world like different? Will the Pegasus movie enthusiasts warm to a slight stray from their usual magic formula?