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.”
“How will I know she still wants me?” I asked, never missing her more than I did at this point.
“You’ll know,” she replied, “when the time is right, you’ll know.” She smiled brightly and talked incessantly to the waiter who brought out our desserts. I’d never known a woman so genuinely interested in people and their stories. When we were left alone, she asked questions around her small groans whenever she took a hit of chocolate fudge cake. “Are you still staying with your parents?”
“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s fine. Mum’s been feeding me and watching out for signs of mental illness, hiding the knives, that sort of thing. She thinks everything can be solved with a slice of Battenberg cake and a cup of tea.” She snorted into her spoon. “She thinks I’ve got some kind of sex addiction. She’s removed all her historical romance books from the house and when she brought me breakfast in bed, she knocked first and covered her eyes.”
“Bless that woman,” she laughed.
“I almost got a bed full of orange juice when she lost her footing.”
“And on the job front?”
“Nothing exciting. I didn’t get the job in Scotland, they felt I was over-qualified.”
“Did you tell them about your camera skills in the porn industry?”
I rolled my eyes. “No.”
“Shame. You could have used those skills at the local knitting club.”
“Stace–”
“What? You would have been bored stupid in that place.” She laughed.
“I would have been paid,” I replied.
“About that.” She put her spoon down on the plate and wiped her hands on the napkin. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Tell Matt I’m not interested in becoming a male escort.”
“Ha,” she replied. “There’s a photographer position become available at Upfront.” A few months ago, Stacey had taken over as Editorial Director at the women’s magazine.
“And?”
“I want you on my team.”
“Oh, Stace.” I put my head in my hands. “I don’t want handouts or a pity job.”
“It isn’t,” she replied. “I haven’t brought in anyone new since my promotion and I need someone I know will do a great job. Someone I can trust.”
“I don’t know Stace, what will it be? Taking photos of clothes or make up?” Taking photos of summer fairs and overgrown vegetables suddenly sounded appealing.
“No. We’re doing more news pieces. Similar to the article I wrote about Matt. Real life stories. Some work in other countries picking up on social issues.” I sat back, interested in the role she was offering me. “Have I got your interest?”
I was grateful for the offer, mainly because Stacey was a good mate and would make a great boss and to be perfectly honest, I hadn’t been inundated with job offers or interview opportunities. I took a deep breath, saw the flash of future in front of me and smiled for the first time in months.
“When can I start?”
27
Skye
“I think we’re done,” I said to Margot as she held up her hand. We gave a virtual high-five –
