(Guest post by CPR)
About a year ago, I sat anxiously awaiting the demise of Berena. It was advertised that Bernie was returning for a brief visit to Holby and the trailers didn’t hold out too much hope.
It had been a joy to see Serena still so in love with Bernie. The smile that graced her beautiful face was soft and full of love when Bernie’s name was mentioned. The texts from Bernie were very #GeekLike and the picture of the two lovers that Serena placed on her desk was positively lovely. Serena, it seemed, was thriving because she knew that under the stars there was one person who loved her. Who was in love with her.
But having watched lesbian relationships on TV for almost three decades, I knew it couldn’t last. That something would end this bliss. The statements by Simon Harper and the powers that be at Holby made me pause, because I believed they truly wanted to get it right. That maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. So, I hoped for the best but prepared for the worst.
The worst seemed inevitable. Serena and Bernie did their surgical ballet and there was some beautiful hand holding and gentle touches through Bernie’s hair but there was also misunderstanding, arguing, and a realisation that Serena had her own life separate from Bernie.
The episodes were about family and it was clear that Serena’s definition of family did not necessarily include Bernie. They loved each other but were building different lives. This, of course, led to the scene with our beautiful lovers sitting side-by-side, holding hands. I had to look very carefully to realise that their hands were clasped around Bernie’s knee. Their hands fit so perfectly together.
But they talked. They talked like they talked when they were courting, before they became lovers, when they talked with each other not at each other. It was beautiful. And then they let their hands gently part and Bernie nodded as Serena looked at her one last time. It was exquisite. They were communicating all the love they had for each other without words.
I still become teary-eyed when I think about it. If they had to end, I thought, how utterly and profoundly heartfelt. What happened next was one of the most magnificent love scenes ever to grace our TV screens, perhaps more so than the glorious ending of Gentleman Jack.
Promises of love and eternity. The power of that love expressed in eyes that were locked on each other, forgetting the world around them. Kissing as if their lives depended upon it. Yet, the one impression which will always stay with me in that scene was that for the first time in their relationship, both Serena and Bernie were themselves, their walls had crumbled and for a brief moment they were at peace with their love.
In retrospect, perhaps it would have been best if Berena had ended in June rather than be given the promise of eternity. Yet in that one brief, shining, spectacular moment eternity shall live. Always.