Chapter One
"Fate or Fluke"
ABBEY. SPAIN, 2004.
I don�t believe in fate. Well, let me rephrase that. I didn�t believe in fate, and I�m still not 100% convinced, mind you. I mean, I believe in God and everything. I wouldn�t call myself religious, but yeah, I think there mustbe a higher power up there. But Divine Will? Fate? Destiny? I�m not sold. I�ve always been a firm believer that we determine who and what we are. Whatever happens happens�not necessarily for a reason, it just does.
So when I spent a night in London six summers ago at the tail end of my backpacking trip through Spain, it wasn�t fate that called me�it was my cousin, who happened to be living on a houseboat on the Thames while she worked on a PhD. And I don�t think it was my destiny telling me to go and spend a night there, I think it was the promise of clean sheets and a brief respite from the dodgy hostelling circuit. So I went. And Ellen�that would be the cousin�offered to take me to the opera. But I�m only there one night, right? And I�m only 18, right? And I�m in a country teeming with men who all possess the one thing that every American girl in her right mind craves: an accent. So really, by blowing off the opera I was only doing my duty as a loyal, Brit-loving American teenage girl, right? So instead I went to a pub. Or two. Or five. Or whatever.
The point is that what happened that night just happened�and really nothing �happened� at all. Just good, albeit drunkenly blurred, memories and a photo or two. Did my planets and stars align to send me a cosmic message telling me not to see the opera? Doubt it. No, I�m pretty sure my overactive imagination and love of cheap beer that I could legally drink just overrode my desire to see fat ladies and even fatter men sing to me about something I don�t really care about in a language I can�t understand. Plus, I didn�t have the right shoes.
I realize that all this makes me seem extremely shallow, and I�ll fess up to that. I�m not deep. I�m ridiculously cynical and skeptical, and I was young. Now, at the ripe old age of 24 (God, I�m a geezer), with a bit of education under my belt (and the student loans to show for it), I probably would say yes to the opera. But that is now. This was then.
But�and this is where the little �Fate� advocate pops annoyingly into my head�if I had gone to the opera instead of the pub� Well, six years later I probably would be exactly where I am right now, but I can�t promise I would be exactly who I am. What I mean to say is that I�ve been thinking a lot about fate, and about people, and about the whole �right place, right time� issue. And I�ve come to a grand conclusion: I just don�t know.
And that just scares me.
ORLANDO. SPAIN, 2004.
I believe in fate. Absolutely, unconditionally, knock-down, drag-out, chuck everything else in the bin. If there�s a god out there, or if there is some divine path, I am absolutely walking down it. How could it be any other way? Stuff happens merely by chance? Doubt it.
Yes, I know. If fate exists, then how do we have free will? That�s a question I get a lot, especially from one or two more cynical friends. And it�s a hard one to wrangle with. I mean, I do believe that what I do and say on this Earth makes a difference in the present and for the future. And I don�t consider myself a puppet in some grand eternal masterpiece. But I still really think there is some hand guiding my decisions, overseeing my dharma, balancing out my karma� I don�t mean to go all Buddhist here�I�m no Richard Gere, after all, but still� That�s just the way I do things.
And I have proof of Fate�s presence. Cold, hard, proof. Like when I tried to fix that bloody drainpipe years ago and cracked my back�sure, it was a shiteload of pain to go through, but I beat the odds and my back healed and I mentioned the whole ordeal to the Black Hawk Down guys when I auditioned, because that�s what Todd goes through in the movie, and I got the part. And Black Hawk led me to Ridley, who cast me in Kingdom of Heaven, which brought me to Spain, where I met� Well, where I met with destiny, maybe. I mean, the whole story hasn�t unfolded yet, and that�s just one bit of proof.
But here�s another. That night in London six years ago? That had fate written all over it. I mean, I was way too young and stupid to realize it then, but when I think about it now? Mark and Adam didn�t want to go to our regular pub because of that dodgy Sandra and her boyfriend Nick, so we went to White Horse instead. And that night�what I remember of it, at least�and the pictures and everything? That was nothing if not fate. Would I ever have decided to go to White Horse if it wasn�t for Mark and Adam�s fear of that Nick bloke? I don�t know, and that�s really the thing that gets me, and makes me really believe in Fate. Because if we miss out on Fate, then I just don�t know.
And that just scares me.
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