by Holly Bourne
“TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN, SIX, FIVE…” they all yelled behind Harry as he walked towards the front of the shot, smiling shyly.
“Now, Audrey.” He spoke into the camera, his cone party hat off to one side. “I would say something here vaguely along the lines of when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody you want…hang on… If I finish that sentence I’m going to have to pay a lot of money to the creators of When Harry Met Sally but—”
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Tad, LouLou, Jay and Rob erupted behind him and all started singing “Auld Lang’s Syne”.
“But I don’t have that kind of money,” Harry continued. “So I’ll have to use my own script. Audrey, I love you. I’ve never loved anyone before, and I can’t imagine ever loving anyone else…”
It cut again. This time to a shot filmed in sepia tone – all old-fashioned and yellowed. Harry was standing in exactly the same spot but he wasn’t wearing a party hat any more. He wore a period costume, with a ruffled blouse. He’d even pasted on sideburns.
He stared right out at me. “Audrey, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” he said, just like Mr Darcy says it.
Then, the film cut again. He was still in period costume but he was in our local swimming pool. LouLou and the others were bobbing around in the water on foam floats from the Sunday fun swim, yelling, “Help! Help! Iceberg! Fuck you, iceberg!” Harry looked down at his ye-olde clothing, then cheekily looked back at the camera, and said, “Now, apparently it really does it for girls if I do this…” And, with that, he dived into the swimming pool just like Colin Firth in the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. His head emerged and he switched roles, suddenly re-enacting Jack from Titanic. A novelty float bobbed past and he grabbed it and tried to climb onto it but kept falling off.
“I’M NOT GOING TO TRY VERY HARD TO GET ONTO THIS LIFESAVING DEVICE,” he yelled, in the world’s worst American accent. “AND NOW I’M GOING TO FREEZE TO DEATH TO PROVE MY LOVE TO YOU.”
I was beyond laughing and crying at this point. All I could do was watch, mesmerized, as the most creative, beautiful, funny, poignant romance film of all time continued to play on the cinema screen. Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” came on and I rolled my eyes. That song! But then the scene cut again, to Harry, wearing a long beige coat and standing outside my house. MY house. Holding a giant boombox just like John Cusack in Say Anything. Apart from the fact he was blasting Celine Dion out of it. It was broad daylight and our neighbour, Mildred, shuffled over and complained, “Turn that down, please!” Another cut and Harry was in Gatwick airport, the camera struggling to keep up with him as he ran through the terminal, leaping over suitcases and dodging customers, running, running. He wheezed into the camera, “I had to buy a plane ticket to freakin’ Manchester to get airside for this shot.” And I laughed before I heard security in the background saying, “YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FILM IN AIRPORTS, PUT THE CAMERA DOWN NOW.”
And, finally, there was Harry standing in the rain. Drenched. And it wasn’t dramatic rain like in films. Just grey drizzle but rather a lot of it. And a determined pigeon trying to get off with another pigeon in the background. Harry smiled, shrugged and said, “You always have to include some rain, don’t you, Audrey?” The camera zoomed in, so it was just his face. His smile. Rain running off it. Him blinking it away as he spoke. “Audrey, I love you. Please forgive me. Being with you makes me feel like I’m in the movies. I honestly, truly, want you to be my happily ever after. Please…”
The screen went dead. The movie was over. I put my head into my lap, tears well and truly back now. And, when I lifted it, Harry was there. Real Harry. Serious Harry. Crouching in the aisle, clutching my hand, saying, “Do you forgive me?”
I gently tugged the collar of his shirt and I kissed him, pulling him towards me. Every bit of me needing him. He sort of fell on top of me but he kissed me back. It was full of meaning and feelings and our tears ran off our faces and merged before dripping off our chins. It was the best kiss of my life. The most real kiss of my life. Between two people just being there – raw and honest – just kissing like the universe would end if they stopped.
Tiny fragments of myself fractured all over when I broke off the kiss.
And I said the truth.
“I can’t forgive you, Harry,” I whispered in his ear, my voice cracking. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Because I couldn’t forgive it. I couldn’t forget it. That’s just me. I’d seen too much pain from love. I couldn’t be with someone who had stung me so sharply so early on. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t…romantic enough to work through it. Because what I’d learned was, love isn’t just a feeling. Love is a choice too. And you may not be able to help your feelings, but you are responsible for the choices you make about what to do with them. Dad had loved Mum. He had fallen for her hard. Then they’d grown old, grown dull, and he’d developed feelings for Jessie. He chose to act on those feelings. He chose to rip our family apart. He could’ve chosen not to. So many people choose not to. And Harry…Harry…he chose to drink too much that night. He chose to betray me. Even if he was drunk, even if he regretted it, even if he was sorry. I loved Harry. I felt it so hard, so deeply, that I was sure it would never go away. A part of me would always love him. The boy with the teeth, who made me a Hollywood ending. My love was something I couldn’t help, that I felt so deeply it was a scar.
But I was choosing to walk away from that. Because my heart…my heart was too fragile for someone who had chosen to break it.
He looked up at me, his face filled with horror. “What! I don’t understand. I thought…”
I nodded, crying so hard none of my face was dry. “I know… I do love you. I do…” I choked on my words. “But I can’t be with you. I can’t be with someone who cheated on me. It’s not going to work. Us…we’re not going to work. I’m not going to change my mind about this.”
“No, Audrey!”
I nodded more determinedly. “Yes. I thought maybe our relationship was different. Maybe it was, for a little while. But I’m not giving you the opportunity to break my heart again, Harry. Maybe this time you’ve broken your own too and maybe you won’t do anything like this again. I’m not willing to take that chance though.”
He didn’t fight it.
Instead his face collapsed onto the armrest and then he jolted up and grabbed me into a hug. We squeezed each other so hard we almost couldn’t breathe, salting each other’s shoulders, saying goodbye.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For the film. It was amazing. I hope you get all your dreams. You are so talented, Harry. I’ve always thought so.”
“You are too.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled his smell one last time, using up all the moment when I could touch him, be this close to him, have this access to him. This was going to be the last moment in my life where I’d be able to, where it would be appropriate. I drank him in, trying to savour it, knowing my memory would never recall it properly, never do it justice. It was a fleeting moment of beauty, of romance, of love, and like that…it was gone. I stood up, my feet shaking. I accidentally knocked over the popcorn.
“Whoops,” I said, tilting my head. “Sorry. You’re going to have to clean that up.”
He stood with me, wiping his eyes, putting a brave face on it. Like we all do. When the moments to be honest about our feelings have passed, when it’s appropriate to play manners again. “Nothing I’m not used to.”
“Do you have any credits you can roll to give me some music to walk out to?”
His eyes were so sad but he still smiled. “Nope. I was relying on us making out heavily at this moment. Anyway,” he shook his head, “this may sound cheesy but, I didn’t think you and me were ready for credits yet. I didn’t think… I hoped…we still had a few more scenes.”
I reached out and wiped a tear from his cheek. “We do,” I said. “We have so many scenes left. Just not with each other.”
�
��Cheesy line, Winters.”
“Oh, you can talk Mr Ikea Now Has A National Shortage of Tea Lights.”
And, like everything with us, despite everything with us, it ended on laughter.
I stepped over the candles, I left my uniform on the counter and pushed through the doors. The bright spring sunshine disoriented me and hurt my eyes, like it always does when you step out of a cinema. Emerging into the real world. Where the lines aren’t scripted, where the characters’ motives don’t always make sense, where the lighting isn’t flattering, where boring days are things you have to endure rather than skip past in a montage, where the couples don’t always work it out, where the rain makes your hair frizz, where love is sometimes complicated and hard and dull and painful and grey and ever-changing and compromised and flimsy, rather than only perfect and soulmates and kisses in the rain and knowing they’re going to live happily ever after.
It is both.
Every love affair is always a mixture of both.
You just don’t see both in romance movies.
The only love affair I needed to invest in right now was one with myself. Spend some time with me. Figuring out myself and why I picked the relationships I did. I was holding out my heart to me. Because I’d realized I was the only person who could give me a happily-ever-after.
My phone buzzed, and I dug it out of my pocket.
Mum: Car all packed. Wales here we come.
Road trip!
And, the final shot is of me smiling as I reply. Then I put my phone back into my pocket, and I walk down the street. The camera pans out slowly as I merge into the crowd. Becoming, slowly (and with a killer end song of your choice) just another face. Another normal human. Whose love story is over…for now.
Despite writing an entire novel that rips apart romance films, I’m actually a wildly romantic person. Falling in love is pretty much the best thing about being a human – but it can also be the worst. I spent years working as a relationship advisor, and therefore gravitate towards films that show the real sides of love. Here are the films that made me the cautiously optimistic romantic that I am today. (You’ll recognize some of them from the book.)
Before Sunrise/Sunset/Midnight
Ideally, you need to wait a good nine or so years between these films for the full effect. They start with Jesse and Céline falling in love when they’re both idealistic students. They share one perfect romantic night strolling around Vienna – the sort of thing you just WISH would happen to you. But the second film catches you up with them in their late twenties, and the last film another nine years later. You see how the characters’ love, and their ideas of what love is, evolves as they get older. They’re painfully realistic, but there’s so much beauty in them.
The Way We Were
Barbra Streisand as Katie is EVERYTHING in this film. This is a love story about a “difficult” woman who refuses to adhere to society’s expectations of her, and how this makes love with (a useless) Robert Redford difficult in return. This is a film for anyone who’s ever had one of those near-miss relationships, a film for any girl who’s ever been told she’s “too much”. You’re not too much, you’re brilliant. Watch this film and find your inner Barbra.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
After the pain of a break-up, it’s common to think, What was the actual point of all that? Eternal Sunshine is about precisely this feeling. Clementine and Joel have a turbulent two-year relationship that ends with them both going to a specialist service where they can wipe their memories of the whole love affair. It follows their story backwards, as Joel realizes halfway through the process, that, actually, it was all worth it and he would do it all over again. Can he stop the procedure and save the memories before it’s too late? A gorgeous, quirky, brilliant film.
Lost In Translation
I adore Sofia Coppola and I adore this film so much and the last five minutes are actually perfect. On the surface, it sounds a bit gross. A jaded and aged film star, Bob, meets a young bored wife, Charlotte, in a Tokyo hotel. But the film manages to bypass any uncomfortable, sleazy vibes and instead tells a story about how unexpected people can help each other when they’re both lost.
How to Make an American Quilt
I mean, this film has Maya Angelou in. What more do I need to say? Reluctantly-engaged Finn spends the summer at her grandma’s house to get her head around marrying Sam. While there, her grandmother’s quilting circle make her a wedding quilt – each elderly lady telling Finn the story of their own love and heartache. The film’s a great examination of the perils of modern monogamy, but I mostly adore it for its tribute to female friendship and the power of stories.
When Harry Met Sally
Can a boy and a girl ever be friends without sex coming into it? That’s what you initially think this film is about, but it’s not. It’s more about how the best love comes out of knowing someone really well – their quirks, their neuroses, their annoying habits. True love is about taking that all in, and saying, “Yeah, I’m still here.” It also just has one of the best endings of all times.
(500) Days of Summer
Sometimes boys…not all boys…but a lot of damn boys, fall in love with the idea of a girl, rather than the girl herself. This film is all about a boy called Tom doing just that with a girl called Summer, despite her repeatedly telling him she is not able to give him what he wants. Not only is this movie a brilliant takedown of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope, it’s also just a stunning piece of film-making, with all sorts of random techniques, including surprise musical numbers.
Roman Holiday
Oh, it’s just so stunning and Audrey Hepburn is brilliant in it, and Gregory Peck is SEX and you literally cannot watch this film and not fall in love with it. It’s a scientific fact.
High Fidelity
I like any film that highlights the fact blokes totally have feelings too, and can get as upset about broken hearts as any girl. Record-shop owner Rob is hurting from yet another break-up. This leads him to revisit the five girls in his past who broke his heart the hardest. The soundtrack is stellar, Jack Black is funny in it, and the book it’s based on is pretty brilliant too.
Four Weddings and a Funeral
Look, so I know I write for teenagers, so a lot of you won’t understand the significance of this movie. But come back to me when you’re in your late-twenties/early-thirties, yeah? And watch this. Because never has a film so hilariously shone a light on what it’s like when you hit that age and everyone and their cat are getting married. It also has the best un-proposal ever. In some top-notch rain.
As this book is movie-themed, please imagine me saying all this in a couture gown like I’m at an awards ceremony (even though I’m currently typing this in my pyjamas).
A huge thank you to all the talented wonderwomen at Usborne – Rebecca, Sarah S, Becky, Sarah C, Amy, Anna, Stevie and Alesha. Thanks to Will Steele for my amazing front cover and Lenka Hrehova for the gorgeous font. To my incredible agent, Maddy, and her accomplices Alice and Hayley – I feel so strong with you guys on my side. To all my incredible author friends who keep me sane – Lexi, Christi, Mel, Sara, Lucy, Holly, Jess, Harriet, Eleanor, Lisa, Non… the list goes on. Getting to be friends with folks like you is the best part of this job. Cheers to everyone who took part in the #BestMovieKiss on Twitter – apart from those of you who picked Love, Rosie. Thanks, as always, to my family. And the biggest thank you of all to my readers. God, you’re a brilliant bunch. I’d choose you lot over Ryan Gosling in the rain any day.
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All Evie wants is to be normal. And now that she’s almost off her meds and at a new college where no one knows her as the girl-who-went-nuts, there’s only one thing left to tick off her list…
But relationships can me
ss with anyone’s head – something Evie’s new friends Amber and Lottie know only too well. The trouble is, if Evie won’t tell them her secrets, how can they stop her making a huge mistake?
“Finally, an author who GETS it.”
Emma Blackery, YouTuber
All Amber wants is a little bit of love. Her mum has never been the caring type, even before she moved to America. But Amber’s hoping that spending the summer with her can change all that.
And then there’s Prom King Kyle, the serial heartbreaker. Can Amber really be falling for him? Even with best friends Evie and Lottie’s advice, there’s no escaping the fact: love is hard.
“Holly is the pure, real, honest voice of YA.” Never Judge a Book by its Cover
HOW TO START A FEMINIST REVOLUTION
1. CALL OUT ANYTHING THAT IS UNFAIR ON ONE GENDER
2. DON’T CALL OUT THE SAME THING TWICE
(SO YOU CAN SLEEP AND BREATHE)
3. ALWAYS TRY TO KEEP IT FUNNY
4. DON’T LET ANYTHING SLIDE.
EVEN WHEN YOU START TO BREAK…
