Page 66 of Wish You Were Here
‘Yes, Beno?’
‘There’s something I have to tell you.’
‘Is this the FaceTime when you finally tell me your secret? The real reason you sent me that email?’
‘Which is?’
‘That you’re actually an undercover spy, working as a double-agent, and you were sent to infiltrate my cell, get access to me and everything I know. You’re here to bring me to justice!’
‘You got me,’ I say, and we both laugh. ‘Actually, I wish it were that.’
‘You can’t talk to me anymore, can you?’ says Saskia suddenly.
Obviously, she saw the look of sadness on my face, heard the trepidation in my voice and put two and two together.
‘I’m sorry, it’s Jemma. I told her about you. She thinks the whole thing is weird, and she’s worried something might happen between us.’
I look at my screen, and I can see how much pain this is causing Saskia. For a moment I think she is going to cry, but she quickly adjusts herself and smiles at me.
‘Did you explain that I live in Sydney, and nothing can happen with us?’
‘Yes.’
‘And she still doesn’t want us FaceTiming?’
‘She thinks I’m emotionally involved with you.’
‘Are you?’ says Saskia, and I don’t know what to say. Actually, I do, but I don’t know if it’s the right thing to say. Eventually, I just say it because this is it. The end. We might as well lay all our cards on the table.
‘Probably, yes.’
‘Then she’s right. We need to end this.’
‘What about you, Sas? Are you emotionally involved with me?’
She looks at me, ten thousand miles away, and she smiles as a tear finally leaks out, and I watch it fall slowly down her face before she wipes it away.
‘You know I am, Beno.’
We sit in silence and just look at each other, in our bedrooms across the world. I feel so close to her. Closer than I have felt with anyone, perhaps in my entire life. At this moment, just sitting and looking at each other, I feel a powerful urge to tell her that I love her, but I know I can’t. It’s impossible. I also know that Jemma is right, and I have to end this thing with Saskia, or any hopes of us being happy will be ruined. Eventually, when the silence becomes too much to bear, I speak.
‘Break a leg tonight, Sas.’
‘Thanks. I’ll think of you when I go on stage.’
‘I’ll be thinking of you, too. I hope everything works out for you.’
‘Yeah, for you and Jemma too. She’s a lucky girl.’
‘Ditto, Bondi Brad.’
Awkward long pause.
‘I should probably go,’ she says eventually.
‘Right, yes. Get ready for the big gig. Have a great birthday. Oh, has Brian made you a weird birthday cake or something?’
‘Last night. A Colombian coconut pudding cake. It was surprisingly good.’
