If I Look Back

“Ah, here we are!” Linnea exclaims, waking me from my nap. When I open my eyes, we are parked in front of our family cabin. When my friend Eleanor couldn’t meet us in Oslo, Linnea and I decided to go up to the cabin instead. We’d spent some time in Stockholm and then at the farmhouse before making our way up here so we’ve seen all of our relatives with the exception of Johan.

“Unload the beer, Sleeping Beauty. I’ll open up the cabin.” She dashes off with the keys while I begin sorting through our things to bring them inside.

The weather is beautiful and the Swedish summer is in full swing. There are wild flowers all along the drive and the trees are rich with green leaves. The air is sweet and fresh. Sometimes I forget how much I love Sweden but days like this remind me that this is my home.

“Oy,” Linnea calls, skipping back towards the car, “you’re daydreaming again.” She ruffles my hair and grabs a few things out of the car before heading back in.

I smile to myself and grab a few more of our things.

Once all of our things are inside, I crack open the first of the beer. We’d discussed whether we wanted beer or wine and beer won. We purchased all of our favorite junk foods and several cases of beer. I plan to be sick when I return to London.

We only packed cozy clothes and agreed that we will not put makeup on until we get back to London.

Several hours and many beers later, we are sprawled on the sofa, listening to some of our favorite songs.

“So,” she asks, taking a swig of her beer. “What’s the scoop with you and Mr. Cumberbatch?”

“What’s going on with you and Mr. Hiddleston?” I stubbornly reply. She scoffs and smacks me lightly on the arm.

“Don’t change the subject! I asked first.” She scolds me with a wag of her finger.

“Well, if you must know. Things are quite lovely with Mr. Cumberbatch.” I reply simply, but she smiles, knowing what I mean.

“That’s nice to hear. If you think I missed the hickey on your shoulder, you’re wrong.” She replies with a wicked smile and I instinctively pull my shirt up to cover it. “You’re lucky the family didn’t see it when we were in Stockholm.”

“Should I mention the one you had just behind your ear last time I saw you?” I tease and she just shrugs before we fall into a fit of giggles.

I don’t need to tell her anymore and she doesn’t ask.

“No, no, no!” Linnea says, jumping up onto the sofa. “Nothing compares to the little noise Tom makes while he’s thinking. Ben may wrinkle up his face but Tom makes this little sound like the air going out of a balloon and makes this face like a shamed child.” She tries to recreate it and I am nearly in tears with laughter.

I had her wheezing with my description of Ben’s nose wrinkle.

We’ve been swapping tales about the two of them for hours now. We’d both been hung-over this morning but we’d had beer with breakfast and haven’t stopped drinking since.

She told me about when she was working with Tom on War Horse and just how well the two of them get on together. While I am interested in her tales, I am envious that she gets to spend so much time with Tom and really gets to experience his world.

I don’t get to see inside Ben’s work life.

“Linnea,” I begin, in a moment of quiet. “How do you live in that world?” she rolls her head lazily on the back of the sofa so that she’s facing me.

“What world? We all live in the same world.” she asks.

“Their world: the lights, the cameras, all the people and the press. How do you do it?”
I look away from her and toy with the fringe of the blanket that hangs on the back of the sofa and am not looking at her but I hear her sigh.

“Lilly, I don’t live in Tom’s world. I watch his world go by and I make sure his shoes are shiny enough to enter it.” She stops and I hear her set her beer bottle down on the table. She sighs before continuing. “Honestly, Lilly, that isn’t the world that Ben and Tom live in. They are not the stereotypical celebrities. They step into it when they need to but it’s not where they thrive.”

“I don’t like having my picture taken.” I mumble. We’ve been drinking for hours now and I feel the deep woozy feeling that makes my limbs feel like lead but allows the connection between my brain and my mouth to flow freely.

“I know.” She says with a sigh. “You won’t like a lot of things. There are endless people to appease, lots of travel, long hours, photos and most of all, other girls. Lilly, I love you and I know Benedict. I think you guys could be great but you’ll have to be open to being a small part of all that. And you’ll definitely have to work towards trying to understand it.”

“I know, Linne.” I say. “It’s still new so who knows, maybe he’ll decide I’m not someone he wants to let in.”

She scoffs and starts to laugh.

“Then shove your way in! He’s worth it.” She fake boxes at me but drops her arms when I don’t laugh. “But enough with the mope-y talk, let’s go for a walk before we open the last case of beer.”

“First stop, coffee.” Linnea grumbles as we put the last of our things into the car. We have to drive back to Stockholm today and I’m actually surprised that we’re sober enough to do it. We’d stayed up until nearly 3 a.m. talking, gossiping and watching old home movies.

We each get into the car and are careful not to slam the doors.

We get coffee and some greasy breakfast in town before beginning our drive back. The ride is relatively silent for about an hour before Linnea snorts and starts to laugh.

“What?” I ask, peeking at her over the edge of my sunglasses.

“Did you really turn off all the lights the first time you slept with him?” her mouth is tight because she is trying not to laugh.

“I should never have told you that. But yeah, but so what?” I reply defensively.

“I did that too, the first time I was with Tom.” She admits. Within seconds we are in a fit of giggles again. Eventually, it is so bad that Linnea pulls off the road so we can try to calm down.

But then her phone starts to ring. She looks down at the display and begins to laugh harder. She holds it up and I can see that Tom is calling. We manage to get the Bluetooth connected and she chokes out a “hello.”

“Linnea,” he asks, sounding exasperated. “Where the hell are you?” her expression changes quickly and the laughter dies.

“What’s going on, Tom?” she asks, beginning to bite her nails.

“Are you in Oslo?” he asks, he sounds rather riled.

“Well, no. We didn’t go to Oslo. We went to the cabin instead. Tom, seriously, what’s going on?”

“Sweet Jesus.” He says with a combination of anger, frustration and what sounds like relief. “It would have been kind of you’d let someone know that you’d changed your plans. Benedict is here. He’s in a right state. We couldn’t get through to either of you and believed you were in Oslo.”

“Alright, I’m sorry I didn’t let you know we’d changed our plans. Eleanor couldn’t meet us. But you can calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.” Linnea chuckles and looks calm, but slightly annoyed.

For some reason, my heart is racing. They wouldn’t be this upset unless something had happened. I don’t know Tom and have never met him but I know what mild panic sounds like and he was bordering on it. I don’t like that someone I’ve done has upset Ben. I should have told him that we weren’t going to Oslo. But then the deep, stubborn part of me asks why he thinks he needs to know my plans?

“Linne,” Tom begins gently. “There was a bombing in downtown Oslo yesterday afternoon and a another attack further north. Benedict showed up at my flat in a panic because he couldn’t reach Lilly and he was afraid she’d been hurt. Then naturally, I tried to ring you and couldn’t get you either.”

The look on my face is mirrored in Linnea’s. Shock, and shame; we’d omitted information that led them to be upset. My hand is over my mouth and Linnea’s hand is gripping her throat.

“I’m sorry, Tom. We didn’t mean to worry anyone. We’re not hurt.” She says quietly. He sighs and I can hear him talking to Benedict in the background.

“I’m glad you’re both okay.” He says finally. “Would you please have Lilly ring Ben as soon as she can?”

“I will.” Linnea replies. “I’ll ring you when I land in London.”

“I’ll be waiting for you call.” He says and I can hear the smile in his voice. For a moment I am jealous but when I think that maybe Benedict is just has eager to hear from me, the jealousy fades and I am filled with a warm feeling that spreads all the way to my toes.

I miss the end of their conversation because I am lost in a daydream about how my reunion with Ben will be. But I am pulled from it when Linnea wraps me into a hug.

“Oh, Lil,” she whispers. “What if we’d been in Oslo?”