Bad Blood

27.

I was so nervous at the screen test for the BBC programme. I barely slept the night before, thinking about what could go wrong. What if I said something wrong? What if I tripped over? What if they didn't like me? Did I even want to do this? I loved my job. I loved being able to watch films and give my opinion on them. It had made me money and sent me all around the world. Being in front of the camera had never really occurred to me. But if it got more people to listen to what I thought, then I guessed I could force myself to do it. I mean, it would only be a few million people watching.

I almost didn't go. If it hadn't of been for Dan ringing me to see if I was ready, I wouldn't have gone.

'I can't do it.'

'Why not?'

'Because I'll make a twat of myself. I don't know why I thought I could do this.'

'Of course you can do it! You're gonna be amazing. You go and show them how passionate you are about films. That's all you need to do.'

'But I caaaaant.' I whined at him.

'Just go and try. That's all you need to do. Try. If you don't get it then that's that, isn't it?' He was right. I wasn't going to tell him he was right though. I wished he was here right then. With him by my side I felt like I could do anything. I could just walk right in there and tell them to hire me because I was an awesome journalist.

But instead I had to sit in a room with a dozen other hopefuls, half of which I knew, and that totally made it even more nerve wracking. When my name was eventually called out and I had to stand in front of a camera and four judge like producers, my heart was somewhere near my knees. I was so close to having a panic attack. I just needed to remember Dans words. Try.

'We'd like you to give a talk about your favorite film.' One of the guys said. My brain seemed to freeze. I had a hundred favorite films. I'd seem at least a million. All I had to do was pick one. Just one film and talk about it. My mouth bobbed open and I was ringing my hands together. One film, Gracey. Oh god, they're all looking at me and I can't think straight. This is not going well. Dan. Try. What would Dan choose? Probably a David Lynch one. Then it came to me in a flash.

'Mullholland Drive. Now I know a lot of people would probably choose this because it's 'arty' and 'different' but I'm choosing it because it was the first film me and my best friend watched together when we were far too young to be watching films like this. And this film evokes this feeling inside me and it disturbs all my memories as if they were dust, all flying up and twirling through the air.'

And I went on to review this film for my potential employers. And I walked our of there with my head held high. They were going to let me know in a few days about the next stage of interviews if I was successful.

'Nailed it xx' I text to Dan.

'Well done x'

I was on top of the world.

Until, as always, life was there to send me crashing back down.

Three weeks after the festival and Dans departure, Olivia and I met up for a coffee in town. After our initial catch up and exchange of news, we settled into the comfy sofas with our cappuccinos and cream cheese bagels. She was reading the newspaper as I jotted down some notes about a programme I'd reviewed the night before.

'Grace, have you seen this?' Olivia held up the paper in front of me. I was half paying attention and said yeah through my bagel. 'Grace.' She urged me. The tone of her voice made my stomach turn. I didn't want to look.

Printed on the page was a photo of Dan. Holding hands with a girl. And that girl was not me.

'Maybe it's an old picture...' Olivia began, but even she wasn't convinced. And I knew just when it was taken, because I'd said goodbye to him yesterday on Skype, and he'd been wearing the very same jumper. 'I am so sorry...'