Page 44 of When We Were Young

Emily tried for the fourth time that day to get through to Will.

The ring tone sounded alien, far away.

‘Hello?’ Just two syllables but un-mistakably Will.

‘Will, you’re there!’

‘Hang on, I’ll call you back.’

She put the phone down, and a moment later it rang. This was the arrangement, so there were no arguments with her flatmates about the phone bill.

She snatched it up. ‘Hi.’

‘Hello gorgeous. Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You don’t sound fine.’

There was nowhere to sit by the phone in the hall, so she slid down the wall to the floor. ‘No. I’m sort of mixed up.’

‘About what?’

She let out a breath. ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’

‘The good news.’

She could hear the hum of the shower down the hall. ‘I won the competition.’

‘The competition, that’s brilliant! You won the competition! Wow!’ He paused. ‘What competition?’

‘Remember, on our first date, I showed you the photographs? You said I’d win it.’

‘Oh yeah! The treasure chest with the butterflies and the beetles. You see? I told you! What do you win again?’

‘Five thousand pounds and my own exhibition at Marshalls, this cool gallery in Covent Garden.’

‘Wow, Milly that’s fantastic! So, what’s the bad news?’

‘The exhibition is in two months.’

‘Okay, it’s not long, but you’ll work hard and get it done. You can do this.’

Emily took a breath. ‘It means I can’t fly out to visit you next month.’

A siren wailed on the street outside.

‘Why not? It’s only a week.’ His voice was small.

‘I need every minute, Will. There’s a big room to fill. At the moment, I only have three pieces.’

‘You can’t cancel – I need to see you. I’ve been counting the days. I miss you.’

She grimaced. ‘I miss you too, but what am I supposed to do?’

‘We can work something out…’

‘Like what?’

‘I dunno. You could work on it here.’

She rubbed at her forehead. ‘In hotel rooms?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I need all my stuff and I need space. Besides, I make a mess when I’m working. And how would I get it back in one piece?’

The shower shut off down the hall. Silence.

‘I’m sorry. I want to be there…’

He sighed, and she heard a muffled sound, like he was collapsing onto a bed. ‘I know. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.’

The bathroom door opened and Scott padded across the hall to his room wrapped in a towel.

‘Don’t cancel,’ he said. ‘Why don’t we see how you get on? Maybe you’ll get it all done super-fast?’

‘Will, this is important to me.’

‘I know…’

‘If you had an extra week to work on a song, would you leave it or use the time to make it better?’

He breathes out, long and slow. ‘Fair point.’

‘Anyway, we’re over halfway now; the second half will fly by.’

‘I’m sorry. We should be celebrating. You’ve got your own exhibition! That’s big, that’s massive. You’re so talented, it’ll be great.’

The forced brightness in his voice made her ache.

Emily bought an extension lead for the phone so she could sleep with it by the bed, the wire trailing in from the hall. It rang once, and she picked it up before it woke everyone.

‘Will?’

‘Babe.’ His voice, one word, filling her up.

‘Hi.’

‘I miss you.’

‘I miss you, too.’

‘Are you lonely?’ he purred.

‘Yes.’

‘ I’m lonely.’

He started singing ‘Are You Lonesome Tonight’ and, even though he was drunk and he messed up the words, it was beautiful.

‘Talk to me,’ he said.

She lay on her back. A streetlight cast the shadow of a tree across the ceiling, leaves trembling in the breeze. ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘Talk to me about your work. Describe it to me.’

‘Okay… So, today I worked on a wooden piece. I’m pleased with how it’s turning out.

I’ve collected driftwood and twigs and they all fit together.

They tell me where they should go, and I fasten them with wire.

It’s getting big now. I never know when to stop.

I have these twisty curly twigs. I’m not sure what sort of tree or bush they’re from, but they’re lovely––’

‘Like you.’

‘Ha, like a twig ?’

‘You know what I mean… carry on.’

‘I painted the tips of the twigs gold, and they catch the light. Maybe I’ll wire in some gems. I’m not sure. I’ll try it tomorrow, maybe green ones…’

When she paused, she heard gentle snoring down the line.

She curled up on her side with the phone to her ear and gathered in the t-shirt he’d left behind.

It didn’t smell of him anymore. It hadn’t since day two.

She lay there for a while, listening to his breathing.

Ed had been on at him about the phone bills, so she counted ten more of his breaths, then hung up.

‘You’ve got a message on the answer machine,’ said Scott, when she got in from college later that day.

‘Okay, thanks.’ She dropped her keys on the table in the hall and pressed the play button.

‘Hi Emily, it’s Will,’ his formal, other-people-are-going-to-hear-this voice. ‘I need to talk to you, so if you can stay near the phone later, I’ll try to call you before the show… or after. I’m not sure what time it is there, but anyway… Speak later.’

‘Sounds ominous,’ said Scott.

She chewed her lip. ‘Yeah.’

They were supposed to be going for a drink with Miranda, but Emily had to stay in and wait for Will’s call.

Scott said he’d stay in too and they watched The Godfather on video in his room in the absence of a proper living room.

Scott’s friend Ryan had the living room as his bedroom, but he was hardly ever there.

They needed his share of the rent, so it meant watching TV in Scott’s room, but he didn’t mind.

The horse’s head scene had just finished when the phone rang.

‘Don’t pause it.’ She jumped up from his bed and dashed out to the hall.

‘Hello?’

‘Milly, it’s me.’ She could hear the frown in his voice.

‘Hi.’ She took the phone into her room and shut the door. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Not really… They want us to stay on in New York to record the album.’

Her heart sank. She didn’t know what to say. If she tried to look on the bright side, he’d be hurt, and if she didn’t, she’d bring them both down.

‘I get it now,’ he said.

‘Get what?’

‘What it was like for you when you won the competition. I’m excited about getting in the studio, but I’m gutted I can’t come home and see you. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t worry.’ She swallowed away the thickness in her throat. ‘Wow, recording in New York!’

‘Yeah.’

‘How long will it take?’

‘They’ve booked six weeks for the basic tracks, but we might add string arrangements and stuff, so it depends.’

She forced a smile, hoping he’d hear it in her voice. ‘String arrangements! You always wanted to do that!’

‘I know. I hope they go for it.’

‘They will.’ The smile was fading, folding in on itself.

‘Listen, I can’t talk long – we’ve got to get on the road. I’ll try to call you later, okay?’

She cleared her throat. ‘Okay.’

‘Milly, could you come over for a week or something?’

‘I could try.’ But she couldn’t. She was already behind on her coursework because of the exhibition. They’d kick her off the course if she didn’t get back on track.

‘But it’s only six weeks,’ she added. ‘We’ve done the hard part.’