Heathrow - Van McCann (short story)

11

Someday - The Strokes

Emily

I take a bite out of the red apple I took from the bowl, unsurprisingly it is not curing my hangover. It's about 11am, I didn't get up long ago- let's just say it was a rough night, and the fact I phoned Van blabbering on about God knows what during our argument is beyond embarrassing. I'm sure I apologised about 3 times, maybe more I don't know. But at least it cleared the air, and I suppose not being sober made it a lot easier.

I lay the side of my head on the kitchen table as I close my eyes, hoping to minimise the pain in my head. I feel myself drift off to sleep, but don't stop myself, hoping to get last night off my mind.

-

"Morning sunshine," I feel someone shake me. "Rough night?"

It was Van.

I feel my smile grow massive, not intentionally. "Morning," I exclaim, with a confused expression, I thought he'd be coming over a lot later. Although, it's great knowing that last night's drunken actions have erased the tension in the air completely.

"Well actually," he sits down on the chair next to me on the round table, grabs the apple I fell asleep holding and takes a bite. "If we're going to do this properly, it's the afternoon," He laughs, continuing to eat my apple.

I look over to the clock on the wall, it's now 12:27. "Shit," I quietly mumble, shocked I just slept over an hour with my head on the kitchen table.

"Don't tell me you slept down here all night," Van said, with a smile.

"God no, just napping," I told him. He seems so happy, I love how we can be like this. We make up and move on, well eventually.

Van begins the chuckle and touches the side of my head. "You've got a red mark where you rested your head."

I remove his hand from my head and laugh at myself, though my hangover begs me to stop. "I was expecting you a lot later actually, I would have got dressed," I said, realising I am still in my pyjamas.

"Had to hurry home didn't I, you missed me so much," he mocked.

Normally I would lie and deny such a thing, however i can't lie knowing what I said last night, another thing I am regretting. All I manage to do is roll my eyes, giving Van the satisfaction he wants.

We carry on chatting about his gigs and how my week went. I had to make up a few stories of me actually leaving the house, since I wasn't going to let him know I've had the worst, most boring week.

"I better get off now Em," Van says after about two hours. "Should go see my folks,"

I stand up from the table as does Van and I follow him to the door. I don't want him to go really.

"How about we do something later?" He asks. "Go out for dinner?"

I feel my smile grow widely. "Yeah, that would be lovely,"

"I'll pick you up at 7," he quickly kisses me and begins walking to his car. He turns around once reaches the car door. "Be ready," he calls. Cheeky bastard. He knows I'm never on time.

-

I only kept Van waiting twenty minutes. I for one was thought 20 minutes was not bad, however Van has brought it up at least 3 times tonight. We sit in a restaurant about half an hour away from Llandudno. This is my first time here but I already know it's fancy. Too fancy for me and Van I'd say. There are women in posh dresses and heels while I'm in ripped tights and Doc Martens. That is something we have laughed off, though.

"So Em," Van pipes up after taking his last mouthful of the meal. He looks somewhat nervous, which is strange for Van. I notice his forehead become slightly sweaty and he starts fiddling with the table cloth. "I think I'm moving to London."

I almost choke on my steak.

"I want you to come with me," He adds.

No way. Not right now. I can't leave my dad in this state, and I'm sure Van knows that. "What are you doing in London?" I ask him, trying to keep my cool and not make a scene in the posh fancy restaurant that we already look misplaced in.

"A huge label want to sign us," he pauses and laughs. "Finally," he adds. I take the large wine glass from infront of me and finish the the almost full glass in one breath. That was already my second glass. "I think it's going to work this time, we're actually going to get somewhere."

I genuinely am happy for him. This is all he's ever wanted, this is all I've ever wanted for him. But no matter how happy I feel, I'm selfish as I want him to stay.

Whenever she needs me, he sang.

"Say something Emily,"

"Great," I chirp out. "Whatever you need to do," I sound unaffected, well I hope I do. "I'm not coming with you though,"

"Why?"

"I can't leave yet," I say, keeping in mind my father. After all, he's the reason I came back here, I couldn't leave him in this unhealthy state. Van gives me a sympathetic nod. Although I haven't confronted him the issues of my dad, I know that he understands.

"When do you go?" I ask him.

He doesn't answer straight away.

"Tomorrow,"

-

Nothing much is said on the drive home. Van flicks the CD on, it's is this it by the strokes, one of his favourites. He fast forwards the album 3 tracks and he lands on track 5. Someday. That has always been our favourite. We'd sing along to this all the time when we were teens. Now, I am in no mood. The thought of Van leaving tomorrow twists my stomach. He's leaving for good.