One Take Only

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  “I know I need to work on a few things,” I said, “but I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Close your eyes,” she said, “tell me the first thing that comes into your head.”

  “There’s someone I like,” I rushed out without a second thought.

  She looked around dramatically. “Where is Will tonight?” She winked.

  “How do you know?” I smiled.

  “I’ve been around a long time, Skye. There’s not a lot that passes me by.”

  “He said he loves me.”

  “Good man.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve waited so long to hear him say that, longer than I thought, but I can’t help having these maddening intrusive thoughts that he deserves more than I can give him right now because I need to love myself first.” The word caught my throat, encouraging tears. Admitting it out loud was difficult. “I need to love myself – before I can love him back.”

  “My clever girl,” she said, wiping my tears, “your mind believes everything you tell it, darling Skye. It’s important you tell it the good stuff. Feed it love, give it truth, be kind. Be enough for yourself first because how can you be enough for anyone else? It won’t work, sweetheart and oh my goodness, I want it to work for you.” She leant in. “Now…let’s see if they’ll add a drop of brandy to this drink.”

  “Alcohol seems to make everything worse,” I replied.

  “But talking makes everything so much better.”

  25

  Skye

  Talking to Dr Chris made everything seem clearer. We didn’t need the brandy, but I needed the talk. I went home with a strong sense of what I had to do next, the first steps I needed to take in order to heal old wounds. Will continued to send messages, pictures and memories, all with the word reminders attached to them. For the last few days, I looked forward to them, but then they stopped along with replies to my text messages and failed attempts to call him. The time away from each other was a reminder that there were parts of me I needed to come to terms with, aspects I needed to address rather than keep locked away. I was given a lot of time to think and plan, but when all of the pieces came together and fit perfectly, I knew I needed to see him and explain.

  And to offer him a promise.

  I’d never been so daunted about knocking on a door before. I could see the light on in his bedroom window and after a twitch of curtain and three more knocks Will eventually appeared.

  “Hey,” I said as he stood there in all his nerdy splendour. Marvel pj bottoms, glasses and a Superman curl. “There’s a lot I want to say to you and I know it probably won’t make any sense but…I need you to listen and try to understand that I’m doing this for us, but ultimately me, and, shit, this isn’t coming out how I wanted it to.” He folded his arms and I ignored the wonderful curve of his bicep and his awful cold stare to continue. “I had to see you because I didn’t want to go out the coward’s way. I’ve been called a lot of things in my time, but never a coward.”

  “Skye–”

  “Wait,” I rushed out. “Don’t say anything. Not yet.”

  “When do I ever get a chance to say what I want?”

  I moved forward and placed my hand over his mouth. “I’m so in love with you, but it scares me because I’m not sure I love myself and how can I love you in the way you deserve if I don’t love myself?” I was rambling and I wasn’t sure if it was nerves or the fact that he still had his arms folded. I slowly moved my hand away and tried to breathe, but his look pierced me, and every breath was escaping my chest.

  He looked at the floor.

  “What have you come to say, Skye?”

  I pulled in my top lip and moved my gaze from him to the floor. “I’m leaving.” I caught the slight hitch of his breath. “Dr Chris has arranged for me to volunteer at a sexual health clinic in Amsterdam. It’s run by her friend. They have counsellors there. One of them specialises in loss and bereavement and she’s agreed to offer me some…help.” I ended the statement with a laugh wrapped in a sob. The word help encouraged the upset, the unbelievable situation I found myself in where I was finally admitting I needed to do something about putting the pieces of myself together that I feared I was losing.

  “Skye–”

  “You’ve been so patient and kind and selfless.”

  “Skye–”

  “Let me finish.” He finally looked at me as I held up my hand. “I came to tell you that this isn’t the end for us…it’s the start.”

  “Start?” he questioned, twisting his face into unbelievable mode. “What does that even mean? The start of us happened years ago. The start of us happened the moment we met.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself. “Don’t make this hard–”

  “Hard?” He laughed.

  “What’s wrong?” Something was different. Something had changed.

  “I’ve been fired, Skye,” he gritted out. “Does that make it hard? Gav got the promotion and I’m out.”

  “What?” I gasped, the words fading away to nothing as anger took over. “How? You said the job was yours.”

  “Funnily enough, Skye, they weren’t happy with the fact that I’d helped make a porn film.” He sighed. “Didn’t look good on my appraisal. Accomplishments for the year, filming a great anal scene. Really got the slip and slide motion just right.”

  “How did they know?” He sighed and it didn’t take me long to understand. Gav. “Where the fuck is he?”

  “Calm your tits. He isn’t here.”

  “That bloody weasel!” It was one of those moments where I could feel the blood rushing through my ears, a loud beat, a drumming that felt like it was getting louder. Anger, rage and shock that his so-called friend could betray him like this.

  “I’ll go and see your boss. I’ll explain.”

  “Please don’t” he replied. “I can’t guarantee what will come out of your mouth and I don’t want to chance it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He sighed, shaking his head before looking up to the sky. “You’re leaving?”

  “For a while,” I confirmed, ignoring the devastation on his face. He ruffled the back of his head with his hand, leaving it there as he glanced at me.

  “I think you’d better come in.” Part of me didn’t want to because he was nerdyliscious and I was vulnerable, and I didn’t need sex to throw us off. Stay in the living room and keep your eyes to the floor. But I knew I owed him an explanation and I wasn’t ready to walk away.

  I walked behind him and the first thing I noticed were boxes, marked with various things such as clothes and books.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, looking around.

  “I’m moving out,” he replied. “I can’t stay here.”

  “Why?”

  “Two reasons. One, I can’t afford to stay here without a job and two, Gav wants me out.”

  “Can he do that?”

  “I’m a lodger. He can do what he wants.” I felt sick. Will threw the photo frame of us –Stacey cut off at the shoulder– into one of the boxes marked Will’s junk. I ignored the sting. “I didn’t realise how much he wanted the promotion,” he replied. “Not a great feeling to be stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a mate.” His words hung heavy in the air. “So, I’ve lost my job, my home…and now it appears I’ve lost you, too.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, moving towards him. He took a step back and those folded arms returned, defending himself from…me.

  “I worked my way up from nothing Skye. What the fuck am I going to do now?” He shook his head. “I’ll get a name for myself. The porno guy. I’ll never work again.”

  “’I’ll help you,” I said, “We’ll find something. You can stay at the flat until you find somewhere else–”

  “Stop trying to fix things!” he said, his voice climbing slightly. “You can’t fix this. I deserved that fucking promotion, Skye! Now, I haven’t even got a job.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked you to do it.”

  “You
think?” He sliced his hand through his hair as I covered my mouth. He caught my shock and blew out a frustrated breath. “Shit, sorry, that’s not fair.”

  “It is,” I replied. “I ask you to do this ridiculous stuff all the time and–”

  “I could’ve said no,” he said, “but you know I never would.” He sat down on the arm of the chair. “That doesn’t mean I’m not pissed, Skye.”

  “I know,” I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not ready for sorry.”

  I looked around at the boxes. “Where are you going?”

  “Staying at my parents.” He glanced at me. “Can’t wait to have that conversation with them about why I’ve been sacked.”

  “I can come with you,” I offered. “Explain it was all my idea.”

  “No,” he replied, softly. “That won’t help. I need to fight my own battles, the same as you.” I nodded. “Anyway, I’ve got an interview lined up, so there’s that.”

  “That’s great,” I replied, thankful for some good news.

  “Not really.” He shrugged. “It’s for a shitty local paper in Scotland. I’ll be covering local fishing and obituaries.”

  “Oh.” His words settled. Interview. Scotland. “Wait, Scotland?”

  “Yeah. It’s my only option right now. I can’t afford to be without a job for long. Once the dust settles, I can start looking in London again.”

  My insecurities bubbled to the surface mixed with anger and the familiarity of loss that defined my life. “So, you’re running away,” I said, losing my breath through anxiety and pain. “You can’t do that, Will. Tomorrow, go back to your boss and tell him he’s making a huge mistake. You were perfect for that job and you’re letting them treat you like this just because you helped me spread a vital message, not through filming some dirty porno!”

  “It’s too late for that, Skye! This business is savage. I’m replaceable. We all are.”

  “Don’t run,” I pleaded.

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing?” he shot back.

  “I’m not running, I’m seeking help. Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?”

  “I want you to heal,” he replied. “I want you to forgive yourself.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” I said pointing my finger and pacing. “You know my defence strategies too well. I should have seen this coming. I not sure if this is fuelled by anger or love.”

  “What?”

  “You’re leaving me.” I hated myself. Despised that my mind went straight to that place of familiarity.

  “No, Skye. I’m pissed and I need space and yes, there’s a difference.”

  “No, you’re taking my right to push you away.” He raised his eyes and sighed. “To get rid of the fall before I crash to the floor. To be in control like I always am. You…doing this–”

  “That’s fucking madness,” he said, jumping up. “Can I just remind you that you came here to tell me you’re leaving.” I hated that he held so much anger, hated even more that I wasn’t sure if it was totally directed at me.

  “When are you going?”

  “Tomorrow first thing.”

  “Were you going to tell me?” I asked. “You haven’t replied to messages for the last few days.”

  He sighed and adjusted his glasses. “I think we both need space from…whatever this is.”

  “Us?”

  He nodded and I admitted defeat. We’d reached a conclusion. Found a mutual way forward. I joined him on the chair, and we sat in silence, my mind racing as I realised how selfish I’d been to expect him to put his life on hold and wait for me while I sorted my head out in Amsterdam.

  “Skye, I think this will be good for both of us.”

  “You do?” I whispered.

  “There’s too much other stuff in the way.”

  “In the way of what?”

  He laughed lightly. “What I hope we can be.”

  “I’m sorry it’s come this,” I replied as he put his arm around my shoulder.

  “Don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. “I think it’s exactly where we need to be.”

  26

  Will

  2 months later

  I hadn’t been in Brighton for a while and I missed the charm of the place, the quirks and the eccentricities but I wasn’t sure I was ready for this, whatever this was. Facing up to what I’d tried not to obsess about for the last couple of months or just enjoying a nice meal together, a casual catch up…I wasn’t sure.

  She’d chosen her favourite restaurant and I liked the idea that we’d be surrounded by familiar people who could prop me up if I ended up drunk and sobbing at a table in the corner. I pushed the door open and saw her immediately, sitting at a table and taking a sip of white wine as she people-watched.

  “Hey stranger,” she said when she noticed me approaching the table. “How are you?”

  “Good,” I replied softly, realising how much I’d missed her.

  “I’ve been worried about you. You fell off the grid for a while. Where the bloody hell did you go?”

  “Snowboarding with some of the guys from uni,” I replied sheepishly, understanding how lame that sounded.

  She twirled the stem of her wine glass with her finger as I sat down in the chair opposite her. “You should have come to me, you know. My two best mates just disappeared out of my life and I’ve been lost.”

  “Sorry, Stace.” She looked tired but happy. Life with Matt was agreeing with her. “I should have contacted you more.”

  “Knowing you were still alive every couple of weeks was enough to keep me sane.” She smiled. “Almost.”

  We ordered more wine and went straight to mains. Stacey wanted dessert she’d had her eye on for a while so saved room by skipping starters. We chatted about inane topics, made each other laugh and shared stories we’d been desperate to share with each other. But we both skirted around the big issue, the one we both held close to our hearts. By the time I’d finished my steak and chips I couldn’t hold back any longer. “How is she?” The she we didn’t need to refer to by name. The she we both knew and loved.

  “She’s good.”

  I fidgeted with the cutlery, changing positions, turning the plate. I wanted to ask her more but didn’t know if it was my right to anymore, if Skye even wanted my concern, or my love. I started replaying the night she left, the things that had been said in anger and frustration. She was wearing a T-shirt that said woman up and it captured everything about her. I don’t know why that piece of fabric stuck in my mind as such a clear memory. Perhaps it hid my regret of what I’d said and implied. Christ, I just wanted to hold her and tell her it would all work out, but I couldn’t give her that guarantee, that promise, because I didn’t know myself. “What exactly does that mean, Stace? I mean good as in OK or good as in great, she’s finding herself, getting the support she needs through people…a guy…I mean…professional people…men or women.”

  “This is madness,” she replied, dabbing her mouth with her serviette and putting it down on the table. “Have you been in touch with her?”

  “No, I didn’t feel it was my place.”

  “No. You were angry, and you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out, but bloody hell, Will. Who were you angrier with, Skye or yourself?” She had a great point, always did. I’d been wrestling with this issue like it was a goat the size of an elephant, all kicking legs and headbutts. I couldn’t keep it still, calm it down long enough to take a good look. I was pissed and I was gutted, but I directed it at the wrong person. Skye wasn’t to blame. I knew getting involved in the film wouldn’t be met favourably with work, but I made the decision to continue because of the girl with the bubblegum hair, because of the woman with the passion, because of the woman I was in desperately in love with.

  Gav was the one who stuck the final knife in, giving it a twist along the way. I’d gone through the mountains and valleys of anger, first Skye, then Gav, and finally myself. Man, I was pissed at myself more than anyone. Furious that I
’d let her walk away thinking I blamed her. Not acknowledging her bravery at facing her demons head on, finally accepting that she needed support. She sent me an email telling me she had arrived in Amsterdam safely, that she’d started some counselling sessions and was volunteering with a youth group there. She ended the email with, Please don’t reply. The rest was a haze of whiskey and regret.

  “She’s doing this for herself, Will, and I think we both know she needed to before she drowned in guilt and self-loathing. I know it’s hard, you both left on bad terms–”

  “Christ, Stace, that’s an understatement,” I replied, raking my hands through my hair. “I didn’t reach out to her; I didn’t tell her how awesome she was for doing this. I didn’t hold her like I usually did before that night. She believes everyone leaves her because she’s unlovable. Now I’ve done the fucking same.”

  “She doesn’t believe that, Will. She knows you were angry and hurting. You’d lost your job, your home. She was hurting for you, but she’d made the decision to take time out long before she knew you’d been fired. This isn’t a response to that, or a decision made through additional guilt. This is years of shit she’s put to the back of her mind and slammed into a box until the box wouldn’t close anymore.”

  “I miss her Stace, so fucking much.”

  “I know, I do too,” she said, squeezing my hand.

  “I should have replied to her email, I should have gone out there.”

  “No, you’ve made the right decision because you know this is what she needs.”

  “She might not need me when she comes back.”

  “I can’t answer that,” she replied, brushing her long red hair behind her shoulder. “All I know is that she’s loved you for a long time, but she didn’t know what to do with the love when she finally got it. If she can work through all the things that hold her back…I think you’ve got a chance.”