One Chance, One Choice [On Hold]

Chapter 1

She was still asleep, curled up in her usual way that I had jokingly told her resembled a cat. I put my hand on her shoulder and feeling the chill on her skin, pulled the covers up over her and edged back out of bed. Downstairs I crashed about making breakfast for us both, and fired up 'The Beast' as the coffee machine had been named, it needed to be a beast with the quantity of the stuff we drank.

It was a rare morning that I was awake before her and even more so for me to be able to dance around to the radio in the kitchen whilst she slumbered on, I wondered if perhaps she was coming down with something; that would explain it but she was almost never ill and she still got up and pottered around even if she was. The plate of toast, jars of jam, marmalade and honey and two steaming mugs of coffee just fit on the tray as I balanced it on one hand, making my way back upstairs.

"Morning sleepyhead" I called from the door as I shoved it open with my foot; but there was no movement from her, I put the tray down on the dressing table and picked up her mug, kneeling on the floor beside the bed I passed it back and forth under her nose so the scent of coffee would pierce through whatever dream she was enjoying too much, then it struck me; the room was too quiet, except for the sound of my breathing; there was no answering murmur from her lungs, there was no gentle rise and fall of her chest.

The mug fell, unheeded, from my grip.

Tears sprang from my eyes as I pulled myself up onto the bed and gathered her inert body into my arms, rocking back and forth in a vain attempt at comfort, time seemed to have frozen as the shock of loss burrowed its way slowly into my soul.

~~~

It was a typical Scottish day, the sun was shining, somewhere, but the mist was keeping it at bay around the Set, not that any of the crew noticed, they carried on regardless. I wondered how the 'new girl' in the cast was coping, she wasn't a hardy Scottish woman, but a soft southern English woman and I doubted they had mists like these. She was probably huddled under a duvet in her trailer trying to call her agent to get her out of here.

Emily, my co-star, grinned as she headed towards me, day one back on set was always stressful but we had become good friends over the last two years and it had become a habit to hug each other whenever we met 'off-duty' but on set, despite the trouble it caused amongst the fans who swore we were a couple in real life.

"Have you met Tara yet?" She asked as we moved apart.

"Nae, not yet, I'm guessing she's wondering what she's done to deserve ending up in this damp misty place," I replied, sweeping her hair out of her eyes.

"Stop that!" She muttered, knocking my hand away "The fans are incorrigible enough without you adding fuel to the fire!" I grinned,

"Perhaps I should encourage them to think we've argued and I'm now with the new girl, what was her name again?"

"Her name is Tara and she would prefer it if you didn't start any rumours before we even begin working together." A precise and not altogether friendly voice said, Emily's smile was enough to tell me if the icy English accent hadn't been, that Tara was not huddled under a duvet in her trailer, but was instead standing right behind me. I turned, a guilty half-smile on my face and looked down into eyes brimming with indignation, I gulped.