The Art of Keeping Faith

by Anna Bloom

“On the phone. Blimey, let me finish.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I thought so.”

  “I’ve got to go. I have work in a few hours.”

  “I know. Nice seeing you, Lilah,”

  “Nice seeing you too, Benjamin.”

  Then I hang up, grinning like a complete fool.

  Taylor is singing “Our Song” and I am completely toe-tapping along.

  9th February

  Bridezilla is here.

  No, not Meredith. She lives here, there is no escaping her. I mean my bloody mother.

  The first hint of a looming wedding and she pops out of the woodwork with a collection of Bride of the Year magazines wedged under her armpit.

  “So, Dharling, do you plan to lose weight before you are a bridesmaid?”

  I take a deep breath. Beth, Jayne and I have been coerced into being bridesmaids. This could be interesting considering those two are still not talking.

  I’m going to be the fat bridesmaid. No wedding is complete without one apparently.

  “No, Mother,” I sigh. “I plan to put on at least another half a stone, preferably on my arse. Is that okay?”

  She does not bother to reply so I sneak out to have a smoke with my dad who is already outside hiding with Tristan.

  “She is going to be a nightmare,” I declare walking toward them, lighting my cigarette.

  Dad grunts something intelligible.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Oh nothing, you know your mother, only happy when there is a wedding to plan, does not matter who is getting married.”

  Oh yes Annabelle and John.

  “How is the wedding of the year going?”

  “It is about to be upstaged by your poor best friend and Tristan.”

  “Poor Meredith,” I sigh taking a deep drag of my cigarette.

  “What about poor me?” moans Tristan.

  “Rubbish, you get to marry Meredith who looks like a supermodel and is way out of your league.”

  Dad nods his agreement. Ha.

  “So, Dad have you met Meredith’s mum and dad yet?”

  “Not yet, guess we had better arrange that.”

  I give Tristan an elbow to the ribs. “Ha, good luck with that one, sucker. Better get Mum off the gin quick.”

  “It went okay with Ben’s mum!”

  “Yeah, that’s because Ben is a superhero and one of his superpowers is to get people to act normally around each other. Like you and me!”

  Tristan contemplates this for a moment before turning to face me with an expression of worry and alarm across his face. “When is he coming home next?”

  I respond with a very helpful shrug.

  10th February

  I wake up to a text from Ben:

  I hear that my family counselling services may be needed? I’ll see when I can fit it into my superhero schedule. xx

  Very bloody funny.

  I am not sure what is going on with Ben and I at the moment. Since we cleared the air after the photo incident and my little phone call last week we seem to be in a good place. I have been walking around smiling at everyone so that must be a big improvement.

  Not that everyone seems to be overly happy with the positive development.

  After class we had to go and watch another terrible movie—Rambo. Yes, seriously. We had to watch Rambo, I still can’t quite believe it.

  I spent most of my time texting Ben and laughing to myself.

  As we walked down the library stairs afterwards, Richard gave me a funny look.

  “What?” I asked eventually while trying to keep one hand on the bannister so I didn’t fall down the stairs—it can happen.

  “So I’m guessing all has been forgiven then for the incriminating photo in the newspaper?”

  What?

  “That’s not fair. Ben can’t help it if there is always a photographer about to catch him at a moment which is completely out of context.”

  That sounded lame even to my own ears.

  “No, I guess it’s probably not.”

  “I’m sure it won’t happen again,” I add mainly for my own benefit.

  “Well I hope not, because I am not sure how often I’m going to be around to help you pick up the pieces every time he messes up.”

  We have just reached the bottom of the stairs and with that comment he marches away from me.

  “That’s quite rude you know,” I call after him but he just waves his hand over his shoulder as he shrugs away.

  What was that about?

  Later

  “Okay do I have to spell this out for you?”

  Tristan is making one of his sandwiches and I am sitting on the counter watching him.

  Meredith is off somewhere trying to convince Beth and Jayne to put aside their differences and jump on the wedding band wagon. I didn’t want to burst her bubble and tell her that she was probably wasting her time so I let her go. I’m sure she will be back soon just as frustrated as I have been of late with those two.

  “Spell what out?”

  “Ri-ch-ard. Fancies. Y-o-u.”

  “He does not.”

  “Lilah, he bloody does and you bloody know it. What other guy in his right mind hangs about as much as he does. I mean you are cool and all that but let’s be honest you have nothing in common at all. Does it not strike you as strange that he is always about when Ben is not?”

  “Well, Ben is never here so that does not even make sense.”

  Tristan just raises his eyebrow. “He does.”

  “He does not.”

  “He does.”

  “He does not.”

  Tristan decides to change tactics. “I bet you ten quid he asks you out for Valentine’s Day,” he says.

  “Deal. You are on. There is no way he will.”

  “Well when he does, Delilah,” he smirks a little as he says this, “you need to have a serious think about keeping Richard as a friend. You can’t have some guy coming around and hanging out with you if he fancies you. It’s not fair on him or Ben.”

  When he says it like that …

  Oh it’s complete rubbish. There is no way Richard fancies me. Excellent! I could do with a tenner right now.

  11th February

  Richard is still not talking to me. I am not sure if it is because of our row yesterday or because he is annoyed with me for forgiving Ben supposedly so easily.

  I wish he would give me the chance to explain. It’s really annoying. It’s rude to pretend to be friends with someone and then just drop them the next moment.

  I feel like telling him.

  In fact I think I will.

  Five minutes later

  I have marched around to his place and am hammering on the door.

  Fi answers, which I’m not expecting.

  “Oh, hey, is Richard here?”

  “No, I assumed he was with you.” She looks me up and down. “But if he is not with you then I guess he is at football practice.

  Damn, it is Tuesday. That is exactly where he is.

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” I shrug. “Sorry to disturb you.”

  “Is there any message I can pass on?”

  Um. Could you ask your boyfriend why he is ignoring me?

  Maybe not.

  “No, it is okay. I will just catch him tomorrow in class.”

  She gives me a withering glance and then slams the door in my face.

  Rude much?

  I strop home the whole way, all five minutes of it.

  One hour later

  “What on earth is wrong with you?” Meredith is studying her Uni folder rather intently, which makes me suspicious. I get up from my spot on the sofa and pull a bridal magazine out from her hiding place.

  “Busted!”

  “Don’t dodge my question. What is wrong with you? You have been huffing and puffing about for ages.”

  “I am annoyed with Richard.”

  “Why? Have you had a lovers tiff?” she giggles.
<
br />   “Very funny. No. I just think he is being rude and it is giving me the arse.”

  “Go and find him then.”

  “I don’t know where he will be.”

  “Ring him and find out.”

  “No way!”

  “Well it’s Tuesday, so I reckon I know where he is?”

  Ah, ha!

  “Fez!” I shout.

  “Nope, no way, I am not going.” Meredith gives her head a firm shake.

  “Oh, come on! I went with you the other week when you wanted to go dancing.”

  “That was for a legitimate reason and not because I wanted to go and shout at some guy I have a COMPLETELEY platonic relationship with.”

  “Pleeeaaase, I promise to look at all the wedding magazines with you.”

  This sways her. A little.

  “But Tristan and I were going to have an early night.”

  “Oh, my God, you are not married yet. Come the fuck along. Let’s get ready.”

  Another hour later

  In the Fez we spot Jayne first. She is dancing like a demented person. Then we see Beth glaring at her from the bar.

  Excellent.

  We walk over to Beth.

  “Have you seen Richard?” I ask straight away.

  “And hello to you, too,” Beth retorts taking a swig of drink.

  “Yeah, yeah, hello. Have you seen him?”

  “Yeah, he was over in the corner with Barbie.”

  “What?!” I screech before marching off in the direction she just pointed.

  Three minutes later

  I find Richard and I find Barbie. They are locking lips in the hallway by the toilets.

  Gross.

  I walk past them to the toilets, casually calling over my shoulder as I push through the door, “I’d be careful what you catch, Richard.”

  I don’t stop to see if my words are heard. I just head into a cubicle where I try and take in some deep breaths whilst also at the same time trying not to breathe in the stench of the loos.

  Oooh. I feel really angry. Like very angry.

  Not in the same way as when I found Ben with her. That was complete devastation because I was insanely in love with him.

  No this is something else.

  It is like having a friend who you have confided in turn around and do the exact thing that you hate more than anything else.

  It is about trusting someone and letting them in and then finding out that they are no different to any of the other losers you have met over the years.

  I don’t fancy Richard and I most certainly don’t want a romantic involvement with him. But I do value his friendship and I’ve been willing to fight its corner all the way. Not even backing down when Ben has made it clear he is unhappy with the fact I spend a lot of time with another guy. I have insisted all the time that Richard was a good friend and that I trusted him.

  If I’d seen him kissing anyone else I probably would have laughed. Hell, I want him out of that relationship with Fi more than anyone. But he’s broken my trust by kissing that strumpet and that I can’t forgive.

  Walking back out the door I spot Richard sitting in one of the battered leather armchairs lining the passageway.

  “Don’t come too close. I’m worried you might have cooties,” I warn him.

  “Cooties, there is no such thing!” He laughs but then realises I am not smiling.

  “I think there is, and I am sure she has them,” I state.

  He gets up from the chair and I edge back a little. “Lilah, I am sorry.”

  “I don’t know why you are apologising to me.”

  His hand reaches out and grabs mine. “Lilah, come on, please.”

  “Richard, just forget about it.”

  “Okay.” His brown eyes look at me, trying to ascertain something, I am not sure what.

  I start to walk away, pulling my hand from his. “Oh, by the way,” I call back. “Next time you have an opinion of Ben and mine’s relationship, can you keep it to yourself? I don’t think I need someone with double standards giving me advice.”

  With that I am back through the door and to the bar where I order shots for the three of us. Jayne is still off dancing somewhere.

  “Did you find him?” Meredith asks.

  “Yep, kind of wish I hadn’t. What an arsehole.”

  She goes to ask more but I shake my head and motion to the shots.

  “Let’s dance,” I announce once we have downed our drinks.

  So we do and I keep my back firmly turned on Richard the whole night.

  13th February

  Beth and I are planning an anti-Valentine’s Day evening. We aim to get so drunk tonight that tomorrow we will have such bad hangovers we will not even be aware that it is the day of puke inducing sentiments and overpriced roses.

  I have asked Jayne to come. She did not say one way or the other so I just laid it out for her exactly how I was feeling it. This is not the best week to mess with me. I am gunning for everyone. I told her that I missed her and that she needed to stop arsing about and sort it out with Beth before we all ended up never talking again which I have a bad feeling could happen.

  Beth and I are halfway through our second pizza and third bottle of wine and have rewound the moment when Mr. Darcy comes out of the lake six times, when the doorbell goes.

  It’s Jayne, clutching two more bottles of wine. Walking into the lounge she looks at Beth. “I’m sorry,” she says and then starts to cry.

  “So am I,” Beth replies before also starting to cry.

  “I am going to need vodka the way things are going,” I say. There are way too many tears in this room for my liking.

  Jayne sits next to Beth and picks up her hand. It is such a small gesture but it makes my heart give an almighty thud.

  “Okay, guys, I don’t think the hand holding is conducive to sorting your problems out.”

  Jayne stares at Beth.

  “You told her?”

  “Sorry I had to.”

  Jayne looks at Beth.

  “That’s okay, I understand. Lilah can keep a secret, can’t you?”

  I nod my agreement before dashing off to the kitchen so my face can’t give me away.

  Yeah, I can keep a secret so long as you don’t mind me telling Ben and one other person who I can’t quite remember.

  I walk back in with a glass for Jayne. They look very close. I consider trying to separate them, but then who am I to interfere in whatever it is they have going on. Instead I hit play and reload our glasses.

  The doorbell rings again.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  I am never going to get to the bit when Darcy chases after Lizzie Bennett across Pemberly all dripping wet and sexy.

  “Richard,” Beth and Jayne proclaim at once.

  “No chance, he’s in hiding,” I tell them.

  No, he is not. He is standing on my doorstep, hands stuffed in his pockets and a very sheepish look on his face.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey to you. I am very busy right now,” I tell him.

  “I know. You are drinking wine and watching Mr Darcy.”

  “Are you stalking me?”

  “No, Jayne told me earlier.”

  Cow.

  “Listen, Lilah. I just wanted to say sorry for the other night. I had a bit to drink, that is not my normal style.”

  I laugh out loud.

  LOL.

  “Rich, it does not bother me either way. You and I are just friends. You can do what you want. I just wish you had been slightly more selective with your choice of tonsil tennis partner.”

  He scrunches his face up. “So do you not want to hang out anymore?”