You're the One That I Want

by Giovanna Fletcher

  And they played quite the perfect couple. Ben had stuck by her side all night, taking care that she always had a drink in her hand, was introduced to everyone, and that they had fun on the dance floor – watching them slow dance together was excruciating. It felt as though Ben was flaunting his new relationship, letting me know that he was fine. He’d found someone else. Someone better. It hurt to be so easily and quickly replaced. And yes, I liked Alice. I thought she was a lovely girl, but I didn’t want her perfectness to be rammed down my throat and to have all our parents talk about how great she was and how happy Ben looked.

  Robert tried to continue being the gentleman he’d shown me at the start of the night, and was, to his credit, just as attentive as Ben was with Alice, but I rebuked and rebuffed every advance as I found fault with his every move. I became a grump for the rest of the night. I snapped at Robert more than was necessary, and generally walked around like I had a huge thunderous cloud above my head, threatening to strike him with a bolt of lightning whenever he irritated me. I’m surprised he remained by my side and didn’t run for the door.

  Unfortunately for me, when I snapped at him because he hadn’t noticed his shoelace was undone (it seemed like a massive deal at the time), my mum overheard. She leaned over to me as though she was giving me a motherly embrace, but her hand clamped on my arm with a little too much pressure to be comforting.

  ‘I don’t know what’s got into you, young lady, but snap out of it,’ she hissed through her teeth, continuing to smile at the other guests who were looking in our direction. They were unaware that Mum was telling off her twenty-one-year-old daughter who was, I’ll confess, acting like a five-year-old … and a spoilt brat.

  The rest of the night wasn’t much of an improvement – my mood stayed dark and stroppy, something that wasn’t helped by me watching Ben and Alice like a crazy, unhinged stalker. I tried my best to avoid any conversations with our family friends and relatives, preferring to sit in the dark festering in my self-pity.

  I hated Robert for shagging some slutty stranger whilst blowing apart our version of perfect and for thinking so little of me as he did so.

  I hated Ben for ripping open my heart and then leaving it to bleed while he gaily sauntered around with his new girlfriend.

  But mostly, I hated myself for not having the answers to make everything better.

  Needless to say, I wasn’t in the jovial mood required for parties.

  Unfortunately for me and my new friend, the-big-black-cloud-of-doom, my room had been given away to family for the night, with Mum and Carol planning for me to stay with Robert. For once I wished our mums were stricter about us sharing a bed at home.

  As soon as we got back to his box room I got into my nightie, curled up under the sheets and pretended to be fast sleep.

  I’m not sure whether he knew I was faking or not, but after he’d got into bed and turned out the light, he faced me and let out a desperate sigh.

  ‘I love you so much, Maddy,’ he whispered.

  I said nothing, but kept my eyes clamped shut.

  ‘All I wanted to do tonight was remind you of a happier time, before I screwed everything up … I guess I failed.’

  His breathing became erratic then. I’m not sure whether he had a lump in his throat or whether he was actually crying, but I wished he’d stop. It wasn’t just him who’d failed us. I had too.

  ‘I made a mistake. A stupid, horrible, mistake that I will regret for the rest of my life. I don’t want to lose you. I couldn’t bear that. You know, I’d do anything for you to forgive me, Mad. Just tell me how I can make that happen …’

  It took a whole lot of stubbornness for me not to blub at his words. I was aware of how I was treating him and was annoyed at myself for being a complete cow as I tried to push him away – perhaps as a means to find atonement for my own mistakes. I still don’t understand why Robert allowed me to treat him in the way I did, or why he didn’t pull me up on my behaviour and tell me I was being unfair. He was probably scared of what might have happened if he did. I can’t blame him for that.

  The morning after the party I made my way downstairs while Robert was still asleep, hoping to make a quick escape back to mine. Instead, I was stopped by Carol. She appeared from the kitchen as though she’d been waiting for me, looking like she’d been up for hours with her short blonde hair perfectly set and her make-up reapplied.

  ‘Want to come have a cuppa before you leave, Maddy?’

  ‘Well, I really should be making a move, I’ve got to drive back today …’

  ‘Come on, five minutes won’t hurt. It would be good to sit and have a chat with you. I never get to see much of you any more.’

  Guilt-tripped into it, I agreed.

  ‘But I really can’t stay long,’ I warned.

  Placed on the kitchen counter was a pot of tea, two mugs, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar, and a basket of warm croissants and Danishes, confirming my earlier suspicion that she’d been waiting for me. Carol placed an apricot Danish (my favourite) on a plate and slid it in front of me before pouring us both some tea.

  Feeling tentative, I pulled the pastry apart and nibbled on it slowly, anything to fill the silence that fell upon us. I could feel Carol looking at me, I knew she wanted to say something. I guessed she’d realized something was up with Robert and me and that she was trying to find out what. Carol was quite a nosy mum when she wanted to be – all our mums were. They always wanted to know exactly what was going on in our lives and to add their two pence worth to any situation, even if we hadn’t asked for their advice. My plan was to act dumb, pretend she’d picked up on nothing and to dismiss the whole thing.

  ‘Robert told me about what’s been going on lately,’ she sighed.

  ‘Oh.’

  Well, that completely threw me. Robert was always a high-achiever, a child for his parents to be proud of. I was surprised he’d risked denting that wonderful reputation by confessing to his mum, a woman who had often been very vocal with her thoughts on married men who strayed. You should have heard her talk about Ben’s dad – he might as well have been the devil himself the way she went on.

  ‘I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed, but I’m glad he told me – that he’s owning up to his mistake,’ she said, shaking her head before hesitantly continuing. ‘The thing is, Maddy, and I’m sorry to butt in like this …’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I saw the way you two were together last night. You and Robert.’

  ‘I was just drunk,’ I shrugged, with a lie. I hadn’t touched a drop all night, it was the only way I could be sure I wouldn’t say or do anything I’d end up regretting. It clearly hadn’t worked, but I could only imagine the fall-out if I’d had a drink or two to boot.

  ‘Were you?’ she asked, busying herself by pouring two sugars into her tea and giving it a good stir.

  I stared into my mug and longed for the chat to be over. Getting pulled up for my bad behaviour by my own mum was bad enough, but having Robert’s mum do it too was agony.

  ‘I’m not saying you’re wrong to punish him, not at all. What I’m thinking, Maddy, is that you have to either forgive him and move on, and try and make things work, or you don’t.’

  ‘It’s not that simple,’ I muttered.

  Of course, Carol had told me off with the boys when we were younger for our general naughtiness, but that was always as a collective, I’d never been singled out. I knew she was talking to me in her kitchen because of the appalling way I’d been treating her son. I couldn’t help but be sheepish. I didn’t blame her for getting involved, though. After all, I’m sure any mum would be protective over their son. I knew she just wanted to help talk some sense into the situation.

  ‘Oh, I know that. Believe me, every relationship goes through its testing times. It happens to the best of us.’

  I looked up to see Carol raising her eyebrows at me, giving me a precarious smile.

  It was a rather unsubtle hint that something scandalous
had happened between her and Richard at some point in their marriage, although she failed to give any further information on when, which of them, or who with. She knew she’d made her point just by alluding to it – even couples who might appear to be perfectly close and happy go through their fair share of troubles. It also explained, if Richard were the guilty party, why she had such a strong reaction to others who’d done the same.

  ‘It’s how you pull through it all, darling, that lets you know whether what you have is worth saving or not. But you’ve got to be willing to try, otherwise there’s no point in putting either of you through further heartache.’

  ‘It’s just difficult.’

  ‘Relationships are hard work,’ she nodded, agreeing with me. ‘And, sadly, getting into trouble and jeopardizing what you have is far too easy in comparison. But I know my son, Maddy. He’s made his mistake. He won’t be making another one. You’ve got to learn to trust him again.’

  ‘I just don’t know how to begin to do that.’

  ‘Patience, love and understanding will take you a long way.’

  I cried then. Again! Years of growing up with boys had meant crying was hardly ever an option, but in those couple of months it seemed I’d lost all control of my tear ducts. They wept freely.

  As Carol walked around the counter and put her arms around me, I knew I had to release the anger that had been floating around inside of me. What was done was done. There was no going back and changing it. I had to move forward. Forgive Robert. Forgive myself.

  The world had not decided to stop and grace me with some thinking time, it had, instead, pushed on and presented us with Alice. I knew that I had to move forward, I just needed to work out how. I needed to focus on what I did have, rather than what I didn’t – just like I’d promised Pearl I would do the week before.

  Robert wasn’t Ben, but nor did I want him to be. He had a million of his own qualities that had made me happily fall in love with him all those years before. It became apparent in my mind that I needed to remind myself what they were, and be grateful for the amazing guy I had in my life.

  Pearl was waiting for me on the sofa when I returned home that night, with a cup of tea and some much-needed chocolate Hobnobs. They made up a large part of her staple diet at university – I’ve no idea how she managed to maintain her size-ten figure with the number of packets she went through.

  ‘How was it?’ she asked, taking a biscuit out of the packet and dunking it in her tea. She pulled a grimace as she waited for my reply, rightly assuming that I wouldn’t have had the best time of my life.

  ‘Awful.’

  ‘Crap.’

  ‘I was a right bitch.’

  ‘Oh dear. Still confused?’

  ‘Actually, no,’ I said with a smile, taking a gulp of my tea and reaching for the packet. ‘I think I’m on the verge of having a mental clear-out. I should be fine soon …’

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ she smiled back. ‘I’ve been thinking while you’ve been gone. I understand, honestly I do. You three have been inseparable for years and now this guy you’ve loved as a friend speaks up and turns it into something else. He gave you another option when things had gone a bit shit. But face it, he led you to a fucking big crossroads and then walked off with the map.’

  ‘Ha! Great analogy.’

  Pearl winked at me, but continued with her line of thought.

  ‘What you need to realize is that you don’t need that map. You just have to decide which road you want to take …’

  ‘What’s this? Is my cockney east-Londoner going all sentimental on me?’ I joked, giving her a playful shove on the shoulder.

  ‘No chance …’ she laughed. ‘All I’m saying is choose your love story and stick to it.’

  Choose my love story and stick to it … I liked that. I liked that a lot.

  I’d also like to thank all of our parents, not just mine and Maddy’s, but June – you too, you’ve certainly been a mum to us both over the years. So thanks to you all for helping the three of us out and for being there with your endless support and pearls of wisdom. Whether we’ve asked for your input or wanted to hear it is a different matter but … only joking. You guys have always known best, so, thank you.

  Ben

  Twenty-four years old

  By the time my twenty-fourth birthday arrived I was living in a flat share in Bethnal Green with Alice, and had been for over a year. We’d found the place on Gumtree – a room in a two-bed flat, on the fourth floor. It was tiny and meant we’d had to leave the majority of our belongings in my mum’s garage, but it would do. It was cheap and central. We shared the place with an IT consultant called Kevin, who seemed to be out drinking most nights, so we usually had the whole flat to ourselves.

  Before that, straight after university, I’d gone back to my mum’s in Peaswood. Robert wanted us all to get a place together, but, for obvious reasons, I wasn’t keen on the idea. I excused myself, explaining that I needed to find a job and save before I could even think about renting a place. He sulked for a bit but decided not to put any more pressure on me, thankfully.

  It was strange being back in my old room, squeezed in with all my old toys and memories, and having my mum fussing over me again – but luckily Alice had moved in with her sister near Brick Lane, so I was there a lot, escaping the motherly furore – she was excited and it came from the right place, it was just overbearing after years of total freedom.

  Being a newbie freelance Graphic Designer was tough. I had no contacts, no experience, just my portfolio filled with coursework. In fact, I guess the good thing about living at home with Mum was that I could get some internships and work for free, building up relationships as I went, hoping that it would build into something more. It did. I eventually fell in with a film production company, who employed me each time they were in production. Just that tiny chance opened up the doors to other great opportunities, and I was truly thankful. So, after a further two years at home, I was finally earning a regular-enough income to move out of home. I was thrilled – so was Alice when I asked her if she fancied living together. She was so unassuming and never tried to force me into thinking about the future and where we were headed – I liked that about her.

  Robert and Maddy had moved home for the summer, as I had, but then quickly moved back out again. Robert had landed on his feet straight away and bagged himself a job as a PE teacher at a posh all-boys school in West London. As he was awarded a regular salary with twelve weeks paid holiday a year, they could afford to rent a pretty flat in Chiswick – a beautiful corner of the capital for yummy mummies and creative types. The picture-perfect couple fitted in nicely.

  Maddy struggled to get paid work for her photography straight away, so, after years of studying decided to work in a local art shop instead – the plan was that she’d do that until something else popped up, but even after she started up her small, yet successful, business taking family portraits, she agreed to stay on there a few days a week. I think she liked the stability of knowing when she was going to have money coming in, plus they were lenient about her switching her days off if a shoot came up.

  She still took her camera everywhere she went – eager to catch life at its best.

  We all saw each other every Sunday, without fail, taking it in turns to travel across London to do so. They were still my bestest buds, although, by that point, Alice had been added to the mix, making us a neat little foursome.

  Maddy had been right, things had got better over time. Not seeing her every day had certainly helped, although I’m gutted to admit that she never strayed far from my thoughts. The distance made me miss them both, but mostly her, and excited to see them each weekend as a result. The love I’d felt never faded, even though I was happy that a new love had blossomed with Alice – the sweetest girl I’d ever known.

  I still visited my mum in Peaswood all the time. Yes, she did irritate me when I’d moved back home, but as soon as I moved out again I missed her terribly. My dad leaving when I wa
s so young was an awful thing to deal with, but, by that point, I’d spent the majority of my life with it being just the two of us. I was used to it. I never forgot that, in many ways, I was her life. So despite me living elsewhere, I made sure I gave her as much time as I could so that she was never by herself for too long. Not that she minded being alone – she’d not had a man in her life since my dad left all those years ago, but I’d never heard her moan, making me wish I’d inherited some of her thick skin.

  She spent most of her evenings either with, or on the phone to, Carol. Our mums were still as inseparable as they’d been all those years before when we were younger. It was great to know Mum had people around her when I wasn’t there.

  One Wednesday night, just after Christmas, I’d gone over to hers for dinner. Alice was covering an event for the magazine she worked for so I was on my own. I knew something was up as soon as I walked through the door. She couldn’t stop smiling, as though she knew something but wasn’t allowed to say. I said nothing, just waited, knowing she’d tell me whatever it was if she wanted to – thinking it was probably something village-gossip-related that I wouldn’t be too interested in anyway.

  We sat down to dinner (I was stuffing my face with her delicious homemade steak pie), when she finally cracked.

  ‘Okay, okay, okay,’ she said excitedly, waving her arms in the air, her grin getting bigger with each second that passed. ‘I’m not meant to say anything, but then, you probably know already so there’s no point us both pretending we don’t know when we do.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I asked – I couldn’t help but smile back, she was totally giddy over the news she’d been told, and I rarely saw her like that – like a naughty teenager, unable to keep a secret.

  ‘Oh, give over,’ she said, tapping my arm across the table, as though I was playing with her. ‘You clearly know. I can see it on your face.’