The Art of Keeping Faith

by Anna Bloom

  All I have got to do is tidy the shop, lock up and then negotiate my way through the snow ridden streets home to my Christmas for one, a cat that is sulking, a box of wine and some Cheerios.

  And a merry Christmas to one and all.

  6.00 p.m.

  That’s strange the lights are all on.

  Oh no, I hope Meredith and Tristan have not had a row already and have come home. Then I would have to pretend to be happy all over Christmas, instead of being miserable and revelling in it while trying to find a plane ticket too, well I am not sure where yet. Where on earth is Ben right now?

  I walk through the door and stop on the threshold. There are shoes by the door but I don’t recognise them.

  “Lilah, you home?” Ben’s voice calls from the depths of the kitchen.

  What the hell?

  I don’t reckon I am home at all. I think I have slipped on the ice and may be lying in a ditch somewhere with a severe concussion resulting in some very vivid dreams.

  I successfully manage to pick my mouth up from the floor and speak two words.

  “Maybe not,” I offer.

  I watch him walk out of the lounge doorway, his hands thrust in his pockets, and my heart does this bizarre racing thing in my chest. He is covered head to toe in flour, his black hair is dusted grey and there are smears of white all over his face.

  If I was not so shocked at seeing him it would be rather comical.

  The blues are shining and the hair is trimmed just like I remember and he looks as beautiful as always. Thinner but still beautiful.

  Me, not so much. I am dripping wet and shaking from the cold or nerves. My knees start the Elvis wobble; not just one but both of them.

  “What you doing here?” I blurt.

  “Spending Christmas with my girlfriend,” he says with a blue twinkle and a freckle crinkle.

  The freckles are crinkling but I notice he’s held himself back, hovering just out of reaching distance.

  “But …”

  Nope, that’s it. It’s all I can manage.

  Let’s try again.

  “But, I have not heard from you in over a month.” My brain starts to spin as I finally comprehend that Ben is standing in front of me covered in flour. “I was going to come and find you. Uh, why have you come home?” My voice stumbles over the word home.

  He takes a step closer to me, hands still in pockets and his shoulders raised in an apprehensive pose.

  “Lilah, I have not behaved very well toward you, I am home in the hope that I can convince you to forgive me.”

  “Forgive you for what?”

  My defences are up and I don’t want them to be. I want to be across the hallway and in his arms. But it is an automatic reaction that I have to protect myself from more hurt, and the truth is Ben has hurt me. I am only realising it now that he is in front of me, but it feels like all my wounds are open for show. He has hurt me with his indifference, making me believe all those bad things that I used to think about myself. Making me believe that I was not good enough to keep him.

  “Lilah, I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” He runs his hand through his hair, covering the black strands in even more flour.

  “That’s okay, it was a month ago.” I shrug. I am kind of over that one now.

  “And I’m sorry I over reacted about the karaoke thing, that was very unfair of me. I am just so jealous of the life you are living without me and scared that you are replacing me in it.”

  What? He thinks I am going to replace him? Is he crazy?

  I take a step toward him. I can’t help myself.

  “Ben, that’s how I feel about you. It’s not been easy for me at all. I just don’t know where it all went wrong, one minute everything was cool and just about manageable and then the next we weren’t talking to each other. I didn’t know how to reach you, and I don’t mean on the phone.”

  He takes a deep breath, allowing it to exhale fully before speaking again.

  “I guess I felt so guilty about your birthday and hated myself for having to put something above you.” I open my mouth to interrupt but he held his hand out to stop me. “Then when I saw you with Richard on that stupid clip I just hated myself even more. I knew if you decided to change your mind about me then it would all be my fault, because I was not strong enough to stand up for myself and do the thing that I wanted more than anything else.” His words tumble out like he is unable to control the impulse to tell me everything.

  “What did you want to do?” My voice is low.

  “I wanted to come home,” he tells me, blues staring at me intently.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I have no idea.” He shrugs. “It made sense at the time but now I’m here I can’t remember what it was. I am so sorry, Lilah.” His voice is tight and low and my name coming from his lips makes my stomach flip and my chest ache.

  “Oh, Ben, I don’t know. So much time has passed, I just don’t know anymore.”

  I am lying obviously.

  A fact he does not realise because the look on his face as the blues scan my face is shocked.

  “Ben, I’m kidding.” I giggle a little, a bubble of something like relief or hope escaping my lips.

  We stand and stare at each other.

  “So are you back to spend Christmas with me?”

  “I am, if that’s okay with you.”

  I can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. His lips are twitching as well.

  “I think that will be okay, although I should probably tell you that Tristan and Meredith, otherwise known as the worst flat mates in the world, have abandoned me for the Caribbean for the holidays.”

  “I know.” He starts to smile. “It was me that sent them.”

  Come again?

  “Sorry what?”

  “I bought them the holiday so you and I could have Christmas together. Alone, just you and me.”

  Wow. Play it cool.

  “Did you not think maybe we could have gone on holiday?”

  “Well, we could have done that. But truth is, Lilah, I just wanted to be home with you, even if only for a few days.”

  That’s what does it. Home. I’m across the hallway in one long step, my hands instantly find their way into his hair as I tiptoe to reach him. Ben’s fingers graze along my jaw and slide into their place as our lips meet and I breathe him in. We fit together like two lost pieces of the jigsaw, never complete until we are together.

  “I’m sorry, too,” I tell him when I finally pull away.

  And this time I really am. I don’t have time to say anything else, he lifts me up off the floor and I meld myself to him.

  One hour later

  “Am I forgiven for being the world’s biggest idiot?”

  We are snuggled in bed, I have not seen whatever it was he was creating in the kitchen, it was all we could do to stumble backwards through the door and into ‘our’ room, flour and all. It was a typical Lilah and Ben entrance, my legs around his waist, his hands tearing at my clothes, mouths hot and hungry after weeks of absence.

  “Ben, you were forgiven the moment I saw your shoes by the front door.”

  “I know,” he giggles. “But I had to say all that stuff to you. I had to let you know just what it is I have been feeling. The last couple of months have not been easy for me.”

  I second that.

  “What have they been like?” I whisper. I move closer to him, wiggling myself so I am fit into every contour of his body.

  “Miserable, exhausting, depressing and lonely.”

  “What no frolicking on the beach?”

  God damn it, what is wrong with me?

  He pushes away from me a little, lowering his head to make eye contact. Candles light the room, and the blues reflect the flickers of dancing flames.

  “Lilah, that was my only day off the whole time I have been away. Everyone was there it was just an unfortunate photo.”

  “I’d say it was unfortunate.”


  “Lilah, I am sorry if you were hurt. I should have called, but by that point I had already decided to try and come home, and I thought it would be better to explain in person.”

  “And just how exactly do you plan to explain?” I giggle a little.

  “A bit like this,” he tells me as he slides himself down my body and under the duvet kissing all along my body.

  As explanations go, it’s not a bad one.

  Later

  “Can I just say,” he nuzzles my sensitive spot under my ear, “that you holding hands with another guy is so not cool with me.”

  My heart gives a little thud at his words. I know it is a bit caveman-like for him to be so territorial about me, but after the amount of options he has probably had open to him the last few weeks, the fact that he gets jealous of some guy holding my hand makes me feel all warm and fluffy on the inside.

  “For the record. I drank two bottles of wine and countless vodka’s. I think he was actually trying to hold me up.”

  “Didn’t look much like holding you up to me,” he mutters, but I can hear a smile in his voice.

  “Well let’s forget about that shall we,” I say against his mouth.

  “Were you really coming to find me?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Where were you going to look?”

  “I have absolutely no idea.”

  “Just as well I was home then, I can’t have you gallivanting on planes. America is quite big you know.”

  Ben chuckles against me and, giggling, I slide myself over him, kissing him firmly on the lips. My hands slide through his hair as I fit us close together. His hands run down my back and I give a shudder of pleasure as my skin burns with fire at his touch.

  “I really missed you,” I tell him again.

  “And I missed you, too,” he agrees, rolling us over as he demonstrates just how much he has missed me. Again.

  25th December

  Christmas Day, 2013

  7.00 a.m.

  I have woken with a start. It had to be a dream, it just had to be. I really did slip on the ice and hit my head. My first sight only confirms this, Kit has given up sulking and is back on Ben’s pillow.

  Crap.

  I wish I was still unconscious. Unconscious is better. Much better.

  “Did you train him to sleep on my pillow?”

  It’s Ben. Ben really is here. Ben is looking shit hot walking into the bedroom wearing just jeans, as he dries his hair.

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Ben is here.

  “Believe me I haven’t managed to train him to do anything.” I smile and perform a long, languorous stretch. I ache all over and not in a laughed too much, jogged too much, danced too much way. No this ache is far better than all of those. It’s a shagged too much ache, and that, I can live with.

  Ben walks toward the bed and my mouth automatically goes a little dry.

  It’s fair to say we did not get a lot of sleep. None actually. Maybe ten minutes here or there. I still can’t believe he is here. The last few weeks of miserable denial and misunderstanding already seem a lifetime ago.

  I spent most of the night working my way around Ben’s new, even fitter rock star physique. It was a longwinded affair that started at his toes and ended way up at the very tip of his perfect black hair.

  Saying that, I have a feeling I may not be looking overly perfect right now.

  “Merry Christmas, Lilah.” He flashes me a grin as he sidles onto the bed wafting me with his clean and manly just out of the shower scent.

  We have wished each other a merry Christmas at least five times since midnight.

  “Merry Christmas to you, too,” I say pulling him in and running my hands along his damp skin, breathing in the delicious smell of him. His body is warm from the shower and it makes me want to do bad things. Again.

  My thought process careens between sex or a shower. Sex or a shower? Sex? Or a shower?

  I know I need a shower.

  I would far rather have sex.

  My stomach decides to stop my internal dialogue by giving an almighty rumble, which reverberates around the quiet room.

  Lovely.

  Okay the morning plan may need to go food, shower, sex. Or would it be better to go food, sex, shower?

  It’s a tough one to call.

  “Are you deciding whether to have sex or eat first?”

  “Maybe.” I snuggle myself a bit closer. “What’s for breakfast? Maybe that will help me make my mind up.”

  Ben laughs and pushes away from the bed.

  Damn it, I made the wrong choice.

  “Stay there, breakfast will be in bed this morning.” The blues flash and I throw myself back onto the mattress.

  This is my sort of Christmas.

  Ben returns a few minutes later balancing a pot of coffee and a medium size hamper, the hamper is labelled: Lilah’s Christmas Breakfast.

  “What’s this?” I ask as I push Kit off Ben’s pillow so he can sit back down again.

  Kit is not impressed and just repositions himself in between us. Kit was not impressed at all with last night’s activities and made sure to interrupt where and when he could.

  “It’s a perfect Lilah Christmas breakfast.”

  “Does it have vodka in there?”

  “Nope.”

  “Sherry?”

  “Open it and see.”

  So I do. Inside is the exact replica of my breakfast from last year.

  Two Terry’s Chocolate Oranges, mince pies that look homemade, and a bottle of sherry.

  “Is this all for me?”

  “Well do you think you could share?”

  I hesitate for a moment.

  Sharing bodily fluids is one thing, a Terry’s chocolate orange is something entirely different.

  Ben starts to giggle. There has been a lot of giggling over the last twelve hours.

  “What?”

  “I am remembering your face when I walked in last Christmas.”

  “Was it that funny?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “Well you were clearly thinking of what you had eaten, because as you walked over to give me that hug you breathed in and sucked in your tummy.”

  I have just shoved four wedges of chocolate orange into my mouth at once.

  “I wid ot!”

  He laughs even more throwing himself back onto his pillow and sliding one hand along my cheek. “You did, too. I could not work out why at first. I mean you looked great even if you were covered in vegetable peelings. It was only later when I found the empty wrappers from your breakfast binge that I realised what you had been doing.”

  “We are going to need more sherry,” I say once I have swallowed down the chocolaty goodness.

  “My love. I have a whole case just for us.”

  “Anything else?” I ask.

  “What? Like an entire Christmas dinner, bottles of champagne and a chocolate yule log just for you?”

  “Yes, like that.”

  “Then I have it all.”

  I could kiss him just to show him how much I appreciate his efforts but then I also have chocolate in my hand.

  Screw the chocolate, kissing Ben wins.

  11.00 a.m.

  Perrrrffffecttt Christmas!!

  Ben is in the kitchen doing something with the turkey. Thankfully he sensibly bought a much smaller bird than the one I tried to cremate last year. Even better, I’m completely off turkey duty and on bubbly duty instead.

  I am sitting on the couch, a glass of champagne in hand. Kit is on my lap making that funny vibrating noise. Kit has decided that Ben is the best person in the whole world, but I think he may have been bribed with double cream. I am thinking what a lucky girl I am. I completely realise how bloody lucky I am. Every time I think about Ben booking a holiday for Tristan and Mer so we could be alone together for Christmas I get overwhelmed with emotion and sit clutching my glass performing an impressive lip wobble. He
really does love me. When am I going to start believing this?