Chapter 59
CHAPTER 59
Ash
I’d planned on never seeing or speaking to Maximillian Adam for the rest of my life, but unfortunately, Sebastian had other plans. And his plans included deciding last minute, days before shooting, that he no longer liked one of the locations. But this was a very Sebastian thing to do. I’d worked with him for seven years now, and in those seven years, this happened at least three times a year, where he made some last-minute call or change that threw the entire shoot into chaos, but in the end made the film so much better. So when he did this now, I no longer worried that it was going to end in disaster.
I drove along Chapman’s Peak Drive, which was undoubtedly the most beautiful road in the world. It wound along the side of the mountain, with views over the endless sea. My new car handled the road beautifully, and I loved driving it. It had been that photo of my happy mother with her Mini that had made me get this one. I’d hardly ever seen her happy, and driving this car felt like the closest I’d ever be to her happiness again.
But my hands trembled the entire time I drove. I had not told any of my friends how I was feeling. I wasn’t ready to say it out loud again. Fuck, I should not have said it to him. I had this strange tight feeling in my chest and everything just felt weird. My body felt weird. As if it didn’t belong to me today.
I pulled my car onto one of the many look-out spots on the drive and climbed out. I needed fresh air. There was a flat rock about a meter up and I went to sit on it. It felt like I was on the edge of the world now. The sea was a turquoise color on days like this, when the sun was shining brightly, and the wind had decided to die down. Mountains rose up behind me and I felt sandwiched between these two great things, the mountain and the sea. There were only a few clouds in the sky today, and the sky was almost the same color as the sea. I took a deep breath, the cool breeze and salty sea smell filling my lungs. I was due at this home bar in about half an hour, but the owner was flexible, so I was sure I could arrive a little later. I just needed a moment. A moment in nature to clear my brain and try to make sense of all these weird feelings I was having. Terribly weird and strange and all-consuming. I also knew I needed to do two things. I pulled my phone out and typed a message on the friend group.
Ash: I’m in love with Max. And I don’t want to be. I need you all to tell me why it’s a terrible idea to be in love with this man, and how the hell to stop loving him.
If Max and I got together and gave things another go, and it didn’t work out once again, I would be devastated once more and also, did that mean another thirteen years of not being able to love again? I couldn’t take that risk.
What if we worked out, though?
I muted that thought too, as well as muted the group after my confession. The messages had come in quickly. I didn’t want to know the answers right now, because I was afraid that if I read them all, I might cry. And I needed to work. And then I typed a second message to Sibu. It wasn’t fair to him that I continued dating him if I was still in love with Max. It broke my heart to send him the message, and of course he accepted it like the gentleman he was. This broke my heart even more. I told him I would still love to shoot something for him in Malawi, though, and not out of guilt but because I really wanted to. He was a great guy, and he deserved all the happiness and greatness in the world, and maybe I could at least contribute to that in some small way.
The house was gorgeous. This whole area though was gorgeous. Noordhoek was a very laid-back coastal suburb. The houses were all on massive properties, so it had a farm feel to it. A distant sea view, set up in mountains, made the environment perfect. Most of the residents kept horses and chickens, and apparently some kept llamas too. I was very aware that Max lived in the area, and I was hoping very much not to bump into him. For a second, I’d wondered if it was his house, but when I’d been greeted at the door by someone who was not Max, I relaxed somewhat. The house was massive, you could fit ten of my apartments in here, easily, and that was just the ground floor. Huge folding doors opened onto a wrap-around patio and rolling lawns beyond.
I was led to the bar area, which, again, was perfect. Set on the patio, with a view over the garden and distant sea, it was casual, laid back, classy and you could see a group of friends sitting here enjoying African Dreams as the sun set.
African Dreams, I scoffed. Actually, that’s what had caused it all. That had been the start of all the bloody chaos. That storm in that tent drinking African Dreams with Max. I decided I hated African Dreams, and would make sure I shot the best commercial possible to feature it, but I would secretly hate it while I lit it and zoomed in on it and tracked out for the stupid thing. I started taking light readings and filming the various shots from different angles. I got swept up in things for a while, but every now and then I looked up and took in the setting sun and the view of the home. I couldn’t help but wonder who lived here. The place had an old-school feel to it; the house was traditional and farm-housey. Nothing in it was modern or minimalist. It felt cozy, even though it was clearly large. I imagined it was owned by a happy couple with kids. Kids who ran around the lawn and played all day without a care in the world. It was that kind of home, a happy home. A home I’d had for a while, until I hadn’t. A home I’d always wanted to have. And for a moment there, all those years ago, I was sure that Max and I were going to build that kind of home together. A home just like this that screamed of nights by the fireplace in winter, and family dinners eaten outside on warm evenings.
“Ash, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon from the dance.”
I swung round at the strange voice speaking my name. “Sorry, what did you say . . . ?” I took in the face. It was lined and creased and the body was frail and thin, but there was no mistaking those eyes, those icy blue eyes. And was that a parrot on her arm?
“Mrs McAdamson!” I said, then looked around frantically for Max.
“Ash, I wasn’t expecting you home so soon after the dance?”
“The dance?”
“Was it lovely? Your dress was so pretty. Red is the perfect color for you.”
“The farewell dance?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Sexy girl, sexy girl,” the parrot shouted, which only added to the utter bizarreness of the moment.
“Well, let me see.” She moved closer to me, on very shaky legs.
“See what?”
“Your ring, silly.” She walked over to my hand and looked down at it.
“Oh dear, has he not asked you to marry him yet? Have I messed it all up? Oh dear, he will be so upset. It was a surprise and now I messed it all up.” She started getting very agitated and I began to panic, and the bloody parrot started telling me I had a nice ass. What the hell was going on?
But then I remembered something that Max had said. I quickly placed my hand on her shoulder.
“He did do it,” I said, and smiled at her. Her agitation disappeared immediately.
“Was it very romantic?”
I nodded. “So romantic.”
“Oh good, good. Where’s the ring?”
I looked at my hand quickly and tried to think. “It’s . . . at the jeweler. It’s just a little bit too big for me, so it’s being resized.”
“Oh, lovely, lovely. You know, he saved up for that ring for a whole year. And I said to him that I thought you two were too young, but when he told me with such conviction that you were the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he would never meet anyone like you even if he traveled the world ten times, I knew how serious he was. How much he loved you. Besides, you hear stories about high-school sweethearts all the time. So I’m really happy for you two.”
I nodded. I felt tears in my eyes and my throat constricted. “I’m really happy too.”
“Mrs. McAdamson, you escaped again.” A nurse ran up to her and looked at me apologetically.
“I wanted to see Lucy!”
“Sexy Lucy. Sexy Lucy,” the parrot shouted.
“Oh, shush your beak, you naughty boy,” Max’s mom said, and started stroking her parrot’s head with a smile on her face.
“You should have told me you wanted to see her and I would have taken you.” The nurse put her hands on Max’s mom’s shoulders and gently turned her round.
“Nice ass!” the parrot said. God, this was like the twilight zone. Nothing made sense.
“Do you want me to get your wheelchair, or should we try and get some exercise?” asked the nurse.
“I want to walk,” she said.
“Good, I tell you what, let me message Grayson and ask him to bring the wheelchair just in case.”
“I want to see Lucy,” she repeated, as if she’d forgotten the entire conversation that had just taken place.
“Yes, let’s go and see her. Come on, this way.”
I turned and watched as she walked away from us and that’s when I saw Max standing there. His face was pale and I knew he’d heard everything.
We stood and looked at each other in total silence. He looked different. Nothing like the man I’d gotten to know these last few days. He looked more like the boy I used to know. Vulnerable. Soft. I started walking up to him. He didn’t move, though. And I only stopped when I was standing right in front of him.
“You were going to ask me to marry you that night?”
He nodded.
“You had a ring?”
“In my pocket the entire night.”
“You had a ring,” I stated thoughtfully. And now that I thought about it, he’d had his hand buried in his pocket a lot that night, and I’d asked him what he was doing several times.
“But despite all the saving, I don’t even think they were real diamonds,” he said, trying to force a smile, trying to make light of a situation that was just not light at all. Max suddenly looked very uncomfortable and unsure of himself. He looked like the boy I used to know all over again. He had a different name now, he looked different, but he was the exact same person that I’d loved so much.
“Do you still have it?” I asked.
“I threw it into the woods behind my house the next day.”
“Wow!” I shook my head. This was all so much to take in.
“I think that’s partly why I was so nervous and why it all just fell apart. I kept waiting for the perfect moment to ask you, and it never came. In my head I’d imagined that we’d make love and we’d lie in bed together and then I would ask you. But that, you know . . .”
I finally knew it all. The full story. It had been more than just sex. It had been a proposal, a yes, a happy-ever-after. The sex had been wrapped up in the biggest question you could probably ask anyone in your life.
“You look totally shocked, like you had no idea at all,” he said.
“We’d spoken about it, a lot. I knew I wanted to, and I knew that we probably would, but I had no idea that you’d already planned it for that night.”
“What would you have said if I’d asked you that night?”
“I would have said yes.” The words rushed out of my mouth without having to think about them. I didn’t need to think about them. I knew the answer now, and I had definitely known the answer then too.
“Funny how things turned out. Our lives could have been totally different,” he said softly.
I thought about the house and the cozy fires and the al fresco dining with the kids.
I nodded and felt a tear escape my eye. I hated crying. I hated people seeing me cry and I quickly wiped it away. As soon as I had, though, the other eye betrayed me with a massive tear too.
“Fuck it!” I put my head back to try and stop the tears.
“Ash, I don’t want to make you cry, not now, not ever.” He put his hands on my shoulders.
“Too late for that,” I said through the start of little breathy sobs, which I hated. “You’ve made me cry.”
“Please don’t cry, baby.”
“How can I not cry when I hear that you were going to ask me to marry you? And that if things had gone differently we could possibly be—” I cut myself off, but I’d said enough.
“Together? That we might be together.”
I nodded, the tears spilling from my eyes.
“We can still be together.” He lifted his hands to my face and gently started wiping my tears away. I closed my eyes and wanted to fall into this feeling and fall into him.
“Mr. McAdamson, sorry to interrupt, but your mom is calling for you.”
“Of course.” He pulled away, stopped and turned back to me.
“Do you want to meet Lucy?” he asked, smiling now, despite the heaviness and awkwardness of the discussion.
I wiped the tears off my face and nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yes.”
I followed him outside, and when we rounded the corner, I gasped out loud. “Oh my God, it’s a llama! An actual, living llama.” I looked at Max and laughed. “You own an actual living bloody llama. I have to take a picture of this to show my friends.” I took a photo of the llama and then posted it to the group with the words, “Don’t ask the questions now. I’ll tell you all later.” I briefly noted that I had over a hundred unread messages. That was a lot of reasons not to love Max. And not to be in a relationship with him.
I stood back and watched Max interact with his mother, helping her stand and feed the llama. I smiled. In moments like this, I was taken right back, and reminded why I’d loved him so much, and why I’d wanted to spend my whole life with him. Mind you, over the last few weeks, there had been so many moments like this when I think I might have felt that exact same thing.
My phone started ringing and I initially thought it was one of my friends ignoring the “no question” thing. But when I pulled it out and saw Sebastian’s name, a bad feeling crept in.
“Fuck. Shit, and fuck!” Sebastian said as soon as I answered the phone.
“What’s wrong?”
“Lame asshole so-called creative directors who don’t have a creative bone in their little pale bodies!”
“What, Sebastian?”
“Oh, so apparently tents are too Bedouin now—they are giving ‘middle-east vibes.’ Apparently, tents are not African. They don’t give enough African chic.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.
“They don’t want to shoot at the tented camp.”
“They agreed to shoot there.”
“Now they don’t like it. The producer is all ‘find somewhere else and make it work’.”
“ WHAT ? The shoot is literally next week. They agreed to the tents, they liked the tents, they saw the pictures of the fu—” I cut myself off. “Tents.”
“Well, now they don’t like the tents. Little noncreative ratbags.”
“Oh my God.” I crouched down on the floor because I thought I might fall over. “So what now? We’re talking new location, new shot list, new gear list, possible new crew for new gear list, new everything? Have you tried to talk sense into them?”
“When last did you try to talk sense into someone with a twirly moustache, who posts get-ready-with-my-mongoose videos on Tik-Tok every day?”
“He has a mongoose?”
“Exactly.”
I looked over at the llama and felt like laughing with a mixture of hysteria and terror.
“So no tents but still a safari lodge?”
“They hate the tents. I feel like I could strangle them with one, though!”
“We would literally need to find another location now, and be at it tomorrow if we can make this . . .” I turned round and looked at Max, who was staring at me with great concern. “Sebastian, I’ll call you back. I think there’s a possibility I can figure something out. But don’t pin your hopes on it—it’s a long shot.”