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He was still holding my hand and I watched him swallow the lump in his throat and then he looked up at me.
‘And?’ he asked.
‘When this play’s run is over, I’m going to London with Nelly. We are going to get an apartment for six months and try our luck – me with screen acting roles, Nelly with acting or production roles. I want to get an agent; I want to audition for films and television, even commercials.’
He nodded and held my gaze before speaking again. ‘You’ve been planning this for a while then.’
I shrugged. ‘Not long, but I’ve wanted to try for screen roles for a long time. And I wanted to be sure before I made this decision and told you.’
‘Right, well of course, if that’s what you want to do, then you must do that. I can try and get out of my contract and get work in London.’
I shook my head; I had anticipated this.
He looked stricken and then reined in his emotions, his expression strong and neutral. ‘You don’t want me to stay in London … with you?’
‘You can’t get out of your contract for another six months and you shouldn’t,’ I said. ‘Besides, I can come home on your days off and we can have a catch-up and we can talk every day.’
‘Cathy, I get two Sundays and two Wednesdays off in the four-week season. Not even two consecutive days. I could get to London easier than I can get to our village, but what if you’re working,’ he said.
‘We’ll make it work,’ I promised him.
He said nothing and I waited. He needed time to process everything that I had just landed on him. For me, it had been months of planning.
Jess came back to take our breakfast order but we said we weren’t ready; our appetites were gone. Then Heath spoke in a low and measured voice.
‘Those milestones, they’ve been the stepping stones of our life. I dreamt of kissing you on your 16thbirthday and I’ll never forget it. I ached to make love to you, to take your virginity and on your 17thbirthday, we were truly one for the first time. You wanted to wait until you were 25 before we got married,’ he said. ‘That’s this year … I’ve been planning my proposal,’ he said, with a hint of a smile. I felt a rush of excitement and almost faltered. He continued ‘I waited because I knew we were meant to be.’
I drew myself up and placed my other hand over his. ‘Heath, you’re driven to achieve more than most, so you know what it is like to feel that there’s something you have to do, that there’s another existence calling you.’ I returned my attention to him. ‘You know what I mean? That out there is more – things we should try, aspire to be, and understand. I need to do some of those things before we can commit to our lives together.’
‘Oh, I get that, Cathy,’ he said, with a growl. ‘I just thought they would be discoveries we would make together.’
I bit my bottom lip. He moved his hand away from mine. I felt cold and I tore my gaze from him to look around. It was getting overcast; the weather was reflecting our torment.
‘Call it what it is,’ he said, then looked uncomfortable, realising he said that too loudly and we didn’t want to attract attention. ‘If you want out … want to break up, just do it fast, now. Don’t drag it out until separation makes it easier to say,’ he said, his voice faltered and he swallowed.
‘No! Heath, look at me,’ I said, demanding his attention, making him look at me with his dark, intense eyes. ‘It is a temporary work separation only,’ I insisted again. He wasn’t buying it. ‘I don’t want to break up, I don’t!’
‘Finish your coffee and let’s get out of here,’ he said.
The café suddenly felt claustrophobic but we bided our time and sat in silence as we drank and I thought over what had been said. I was preparing my lines for the next battle; I don’t know what was going on in Heath’s head or heart. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking outside at the passing people but not seeing them, his jaw was clenched, and his eyes grew shuttered. And I felt sick with anxiety. I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to break up with him. I just needed to do this … and I didn’t know whatthiswas called.
I pushed my coffee away; Heath’s cup sat untouched. He rose and paid, came back to the table to collect me and we walked beside each other not touching, not speaking. You could feel the tension between us, an ice wall that wasn’t there an hour ago. It was getting darker and we hadn’t brought any wet weather gear, but neither of us cared. Heath led the way and I knew where he was going – to our place on the moors, the place we had spent a lot of our childhood. It was an opening between two large rocks that provided shelter and an endless view of the green moors. My heart was thundering the whole walk; Heath walked as a man possessed.
I felt the chill rising, the paths getting hard to see, harder to navigate with the dark clouds amassing. I felt a little scared – not of the moors, I’m never frightened here but I don’t like the lightning, the way it strikes and burns, the way it catches everything like a flash on a camera. I wanted to be under cover if it began. The moors sounded deathly silent, hushed and still – everything had taken cover from the pending storm, from us, and was quietly breathing, waiting. The land was reflecting our tension, it all felt so heightened. I tried to follow Heath like cyclists do when they are riding – in his stream. I grabbed for his hand but he pulled away.
When we got to our spot on the moors, he changed his mind and kept walking. I ran a few steps ahead of him and grabbed his hand again.
‘Stop,’ I panted. ‘We need to finish this discussion. Let’s talk in our place,’ I said and nodded toward our rocks. He didn’t look happy about the idea but he let me lead him in there. We took shelter and sat watching the weather change. The wind picked up and soon began to howl across the moors, the thunder boomed and I flinched with every crack of lightning. But we were cosy, high and dry and then the clouds broke and the rain began to come in sheets towards us, pounding on the rocks that hid us.
I was still holding his hand and I tried to explain.
‘I just want to do all the normal things.’
I waited in case he wanted to ask a question or interject; he didn’t so I continued.
‘I’ve never really stood on my own two feet because you’ve been my rock. And I want to know what it is like to get a part on my own merit—’
‘—every part you have played has been won on your audition,’ he interrupted me.
