“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 – hard to do a real one over FaceTime – and I sat back, staring at the ceiling after emailing her the final copy of the film.
We’d called it Love Undone and after shelving it as something I didn’t want to think about when I first came to Amsterdam, the last few weeks I’d grown stronger and the cause seemed real again, not a crusade for loved ones lost, but a passion project for myself. Subconsciously, I knew it was a way of settling my guilt, but over the last three months I’d learnt that these issues were important to my heart, my values, my interest. Volunteering at the clinic wasn’t something I did solely in Elliott’s memory. It was a dedication. The people there were my people.
“I’ll take another look at it tonight, but it only needed a few tweaks.”
“Pardon the pun,” I replied.
“Have you given any more thought to the premiere?” she asked, painting her nails as she spoke. Queen of multi-tasking. “Robson was asking about dates recently and I can’t keep putting him off.”
“Well, I’m thinking about coming home in the next couple of weeks.” I shivered as cold nipped the air. Another electrical storm. I wasn’t going to miss the weather here.
“Good for you,” she said, “do you feel it’s helped?”
“I do,” I replied honestly. “I really feel like I understand myself more.”
Time away had been good for me. For the first time in my life I only had me to think about, to put first, to nurture. It was hard at first, with the guilt still bubbling away like a pan on boil. That was a great analogy. The roaring collection of scalding water was me in a mind fuck, but I felt like I’d found the tools that could turn down the heat, occasionally simmering, but at most a gentle whirl.
I had to pull myself apart before I could understand what lay underneath the layers. Piece by piece. Emotion and depth. With each layer I put under the magnifying glass, I began to feel a sense of calm, an understanding as to why I reacted in a certain way, why the anxiety grew, and a fear reaction came to the front. With understanding came acceptance, like someone had finally said, This is why you do that, Skye and it’s OK, you just need to find a better way to channel your responses. With every counselling session, every early morning yoga class and afternoon hike, I began to take my power back. Kickboxing channelled the anger. Talking therapy dislodged the negative thought process that became another fear response. A cleanse and vegan diet helped me to connect with my body again. Volunteering helped fuel my confidence and renewed my self-esteem. My counsellor made a timeline of my life, starting when I was born, building up to the present day. The day we finished it, she mounted it on the wall, talked through every bump, dip and curve, turned to me and said, Look at what you’ve been through, Skye, and you’ve made it. You’re still standing. These experiences haven’t broken you. You’re a strong woman who needs to see what you’ve overcome. I fell to the floor and sobbed. My life surrounded me, the moments I cherished, the parts that almost broke me and I hugged myself, wrapping my arms around my body, finally allowing myself to say, You’re a good person, you have come so far, you deserve good things, you deserve love. Love from myself first, before love could come from anywhere else. Will.
Slowly, I learned to love myself and admire what I’d achieved. Two successful businesses, owning my own flat, my volunteer work, my friendships. I promised I would forgive myself, celebrate my quirks, own my faults, take care of me and accept there would be times where I needed to be taken care of and it didn’t make me any less of a person, in fact, it was OK.
When I first started my counselling sessions, I started with walls built around myself, sceptical and afraid. There was a quote just above the counsellor’s head that said, ‘Give yourself the same love you give everyone else.’ With every session I started to fixate on it. It puzzled me at first, wondering how. Slowly, it began to make so much sense. Like a blanket of warmth had been placed around my shoulders and not only had I hugged the arms of whoever placed it there, I’d fastened it in place with my own hands.
I’d let in the light four times in my life. My grandmother, Elliott, Stacey and Will. Will stood out like a beacon, a lighthouse in the storm, a flash of wonderful that I didn’t believe I deserved. My counsellor helped me understand that I was his flash of wonderful, which was why he’d stood by me for so long. Once I thought about it from my own perspective, standing in my shoes, with a newfound ability to reflect, I was able to consider that perhaps, I was a light. His light. A fucking great big illumination.
“I’ll tell Robson to start planning the event,” Margot said. “Do you want to contact him about finalising a date?’
“I’ll send him an email now.”
“Fab.”
“Margot, can I talk something through with you?” I asked as I moved papers and notepads to find a pen.
“Shoot.”
“I was making some notes for the credits of the film and when I got to photography…I didn’t know what to put. Will’s name should be there, but would he want that? I emailed him. He just sent a thumbs up emoji.”
Margot started smiling. “Skye, what do you expect me to say?”
I took off the pen lid with my mouth and dropped it on the desk. “Something helpful?”
“I haven’t seen Will in ages. I have no idea what he’s thinking or feeling. I don’t know where he’s living or if he’s working again. So…” She leant into the webcam. “The best thing to do is to call and ask him directly.”
I slumped back in the chair, throwing my arms over my head and groaning. “You’re right,” I said. “Totally right.”