The Couple

by Helly Acton

Millie spoons another blob of cheesecake into her mouth and thinks of her mum and the pressure she’s felt all her life to be perfect. To never stop achieving. The difference is, in Millie’s case, she and Vivian always felt like they were a team. It was never Millie versus her mum. It was always Millie and her mum versus the world. Her mum never treated her like an investment. She treated Millie like a champion, who never put a foot wrong. She feels a sudden surge of gratitude and love.

  ‘I suppose, in a case like that, we’d need to aim the campaign at the parents,’ Millie says.

  ‘I think we need to avoid this angle. Kids are off the table, in my book,’ Ben says determinedly.

  Ben is right. Millie isn’t going to argue. Oxytoxin for kids feels far too dark. It would create headlines for all the wrong reasons. And Millie would never want to put her name to a pill that manipulated children without their understanding or consent.

  ‘So, what’s your definition of success, if it isn’t a cabinet filled with trophies?’ Millie asks.

  ‘A cabinet filled with cheese.’

  ‘No, seriously,’ Millie says, spooning some topping into her mouth.

  ‘I don’t know . . . happiness,’ he says simply.

  ‘OK. And what’s your definition of happiness?’

  ‘Adventure, freedom, family, friends,’ Ben replies, scraping his spoon around the empty plate. ‘And cheesecake. Here, you have the last bit, I insist.’

  Millie holds the last piece of cheesecake up in the air with her spoon. ‘To cheesecake.’

  Like a crocodile that’s been lying in wait, Ben lurches forward and grabs the spoon between his lips. Millie’s mouth falls open as she stares at her empty hand.

  ‘You need to work on your reflexes, Belle,’ Ben smirks.

  The next morning, Millie and Ben are standing in Ginny Hodgson’s living room, staring at a large portrait of Ginny and Gareth hanging on the wall and bathed in the early light pouring in from the window. Her modern flat, overlooking Cardiff Bay, doesn’t suit the old dark wood furniture. It doesn’t suit Ginny, Millie thinks.

  ‘That’s Gareth, obviously,’ Ginny says. ‘Handsome devil, isn’t he? He’s always turned heads.’

  ‘He . . . sure is,’ says Millie, staring at the gold chain around Gareth’s neck. It’s big enough to anchor a ship.

  ‘You must think it’s odd to keep it up there.’ Ginny sighs. ‘I just can’t bring myself to take it down. I don’t have anything else. Gareth has been, or at least was, my entire life for thirty years.’

  ‘You could cover his face with a picture of the cat,’ Ben suggests, looking amused.

  Ginny giggles.

  ‘Or a calendar?’

  ‘I don’t have a calendar. What’s the point of having a calendar when you don’t have anything to put on it?’

  Millie’s heart bleeds for this little speck of a woman, who speaks so softly she can barely be heard over the rain outside.

  ‘Well, if you ask me, that might all change for you!’ Ben chirps. ‘And the more you put on it, the better you’ll feel.’

  Ginny breaks into a broad, beaming smile on hearing this, and Millie could hug Ben for bringing it out in her.

  ‘I hope so,’ Ginny replies.

  ‘Or perhaps even a huge mirror, so you can stare at your reflection every day and be reminded that you don’t need Gareth to make you happy. You can make you happy. Piss off, Gareth. Say it with me, Ginny!’

  ‘Piss off, Gareth!’ she squeaks.

  ‘Louder, Ginny!’ Ben says, laughing.

  ‘PISS OFF, GARETH!’ Ginny shouts.

  ‘Ginny!’ Ben shouts. ‘With that kind of attitude, perhaps you don’t need a pill after all!’

  Ginny’s so enthralled by Ben that Millie’s sure she can see actual heart shapes in her eyes.

  ‘Can we have a seat?’ he asks, nodding towards the dining room table that’s shoved up against the wall in her tiny sitting room.

  ‘Please do,’ Ginny says. ‘I’m sorry there isn’t much space. Gareth told me it wasn’t fair for me to stay in the house. So we sold it all and split everything fifty-fifty. I lost so much of the furniture I loved, but I’ve managed to keep a few bits and bobs.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Ben says, shaking his head. ‘No worries, Ginny, this is fine. You have a lovely home.’

  ‘So, Ginny,’ Millie says, flipping open her notebook. ‘Do you want to start from the beginning? And then tell us why you want to take Oxytoxin?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ginny says. ‘I guess where we begin is thirty years ago. Gareth and I were both forty when we met down the pool hall in our local village. I was the manager there, and he was new to the area. He challenged me to a game, I beat him, and he wasn’t like the other men. He was chuffed to bits for me. A true gent. That’s the thing about Gareth, he always was a true gent. And he loved me, I know he did. That’s what makes this whole situation so hard to swallow, so hard to overcome. It was unusual to meet someone who was so interested in having a relationship, and it took a lot to persuade me. I wasn’t keen at all, and I thought it very strange of him to ask in the first place. But I guess it gave him a certain charm. We were the only couple in the village. People used to talk behind our backs all the time. What’s wrong with them? Wendy, my best friend, would constantly ask me, ‘When are you two going to break up?’ My mum would comment, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll find yourself soon.’ Fast-forward thirty years, and we still hadn’t. I was so proud to prove them wrong. I thought that we’d beat the odds and we’d be together forever. And then, the shed happened.’

  ‘How did it feel?’ Ben asks.

  ‘When I saw them through the window, my entire world crumbled. I’ve never felt pain like it. Searing. In that moment, I knew Gareth was gone. I knew we were finished and the whole future I was counting on was wiped out. There would be no more us. I was on my own. I hadn’t planned to be on my own, and here we are. I’m so glad we decided not to have kids, otherwise their hearts might have broken too. I just . . . don’t feel like I can cope. I wasn’t the one who wanted this relationship in the first place, so being shoved out of it feels like a right kick in the teeth.’

  And that’s the problem with relationships, Millie thinks. You become so reliant on one other person that you forget how to rely on yourself. You’re convinced you can’t be happy alone. That’s what she fears for Ruth.

  ‘But that’s not the worst part,’ Ginny continues. ‘The worst part is that I’m still in love with him. I can’t stop thinking about him. This portrait is one of the only things I have left of our lives together. I still have the crockery from the first house we bought. He hated it! Hates it, I mean. I can’t bring myself to get rid of it, even though my heart breaks just looking at it. I can’t even bear to wear my perfume anymore, and I’ve been wearing it for twenty-five years! It was a gift from him at a happier time, and I’ve never worn anything else since. I don’t want to find a new perfume! Anyway, those happy memories are filling my head with unhappy thoughts. And seeing him at our social clubs going home with other women, remembering how it used to be me by his side, and only me, it’s just . . . it’s like a thousand knives stabbing me in the gut. And it’s not just the humiliation of it all. It’s that I miss him. I really miss him.’

  Ben takes a tissue packet out of his jacket pocket and hands them to her. She whispers thank you and starts to quietly cry into her hands.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Ginny,’ Millie says. ‘It sounds so tough. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ Ginny sniffs, lifting her head and blinking away the tears. ‘I’m just glad there’s a light at the end of the tunnel with this new pill of yours. It’s the first time I’ve seen a light in over a year.’

  ‘Well, I really hope we can help,’ Millie says, looking at Ben.

  Ben nods. ‘Me too, Ginny.’

  ‘If I could take a pill that makes me stop loving him, then all this pain would disappear. I could move on with my life. Start going to my clubs again. Steer clear of relati
onships and be happy on my own. I know I can be happy on my own, I was before I met him, after all. I just don’t have the strength to do it by myself. I’ve tried, and nothing works.’

  ‘Would meeting someone else help? Perhaps take your mind off him?’

  ‘Oh, no! I’ve learnt the hard way why couples aren’t right. I don’t want to risk another situation like this, Ben. That’s why I think Oxytoxin is my only choice. I feel like it could be a cure, and prevent me from making such a stupid mistake ever again.’

  ‘Don’t forget you had thirty years of happiness together. Perhaps you could find the same happiness with someone else, if you’re the relationship type.’

  ‘The only relationship I want is with me,’ Ginny concludes, playing with the heart-shaped locket on her chest, engraved with G & G.

  ‘OK, I get it now,’ Ben says, shutting the car door. ‘I feel for the poor woman.’

  ‘So Oxytoxin is not totally evil?’ Millie asks, turning her head round to reverse.

  ‘In certain, very specific situations, Oxytoxin can be good,’ Ben states. ‘Although there’s still a chance she’ll regret it. She was happy as a couple for thirty years. She could find that again.’

  ‘You heard what she said. She wants to find herself again, and I think that’s pretty damn great.’

  Millie turns the radio on.

  ‘Fitting,’ Ben comments, nodding when ‘Love Me Like I Do’ fills the car.

  ‘I’m actually excited for her to take Oxytoxin and see how much happier she can be flying solo,’ Millie says. ‘Good riddance to Gareth. And good riddance to relationships.’

  ‘Bad relationships,’ Ben says. ‘Not all relationships, surely?’

  ‘I suppose,’ Millie says.

  ‘Millie Jones, don’t tell me you’re a member of the anti-couple brigade as well?’ Ben scoffs, as he stares out of the window at an approaching storm cloud looming over Cardiff.

  ‘I’m not anti-couples,’ Millie says. ‘One of my best friends is in a relationship. I’m just . . . cautious of them. Personally, I’d never be in one. I just can’t for the life of me see the appeal.’

  ‘Never? That’s a long time,’ Ben comments.

  ‘So is forever,’ Millie counters. ‘Taking care of me takes up enough of my time, I can’t imagine doing it for two. Way too much hard work. Way too much drama. Way too much heartache.’

  ‘Yeah, but with the right person it doesn’t feel like hard work or drama. With the right person, you aren’t adding to the load, you’re sharing it.’

  ‘Don’t get me started on sharing,’ Millie says.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Ben laughs.

  ‘Sharing everything with someone else? Sliding nightmare, if you ask me,’ Millie explains.

  ‘Well, with all the siblings I grew up with I guess I’m used to it,’ Ben replies. ‘I didn’t have my own bedroom until I was eighteen, at uni. And at mealtimes, I had to guard my food with a pointed fork.’

  ‘Yup, not for me,’ Millie laughs. ‘It was hard enough sharing that cheesecake with you. And it ended badly for me.’

  ‘I’m honoured. Of course, sometimes it is nice to share,’ Ben says. ‘Experiences, for example. Like going on holiday. Sharing memories with someone.’

  ‘I share memories with my family and with Al and Ruth. I can go on holiday with them, too. Not that I would. I don’t travel often, but when I do, it’s definitely on my own,’ Millie says as they turn into the hotel car park.

  ‘You honestly think going on holiday alone is better? Why?’ Ben asks.

  ‘The last time I went on holiday with June, we had to have a debate every time we made a decision. Where to eat, what to see, what to do. Going on holiday on your own is much easier! And cheaper – it’s expensive to room-share! Plus, I don’t want someone using a bathroom so close to my bed, thanks.’

  ‘Well, when you put it like that, I can sort of see why you’d think so,’ Ben replies. ‘But I’d choose sharing an experience over easy any day of the week.’

  ‘Um, not to bring up painful memories, but didn’t you and Sarah break up when you were on holiday? Because you disagreed about coming back?’ Millie asks.

  ‘Ah. Yup. You got me there,’ Ben laughs.

  ‘Sorry,’ Millie winces. ‘Did I just overstep the mark?’

  ‘It’s OK. Hope me sobbing into my hotel pillow later doesn’t keep you up,’ Ben replies. ‘Or, you know, maybe I do.’

  They open their doors at the same time, step out of the car and look up at the hotel. In typical Ben style, he had stuffed up the dates with Skye and they’ve spent the past hour trying to find one last minute.

  ‘Looks nice,’ Millie comments.

  ‘It does, doesn’t it, Belle?’ Ben says, grabbing their bags out of the boot. ‘OK, bye then,’ he says, putting her bag on the ground and walking off.

  ‘Wait, what are you doing?’ Millie shouts after him.

  Ben spins round and squints across the car park at her.

  ‘What?’

  She stares at him.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ he says, looking around. ‘I assumed we’d go in separately. You know, because I’d hate to spoil your lone wolf entrance.’

  ‘Very funny,’ Millie replies, picking up her bag and catching him up.

  ‘Come on, Belle,’ he says, taking her bag. ‘I’d be delighted to cramp your style.’

  Seventeen

  When they knock on the front door of the penthouse flat in Penylan on Thursday afternoon, they’re greeted by a chorus of scuttles, snuffles and growls behind it. When it opens, a rapid cloud of multicoloured fur flies at their feet. Ben, ever the professional, falls to his knees and disappears in the fluff.

  ‘Sorry!’ cries a woman in a tailored teal suit, looking flustered.

  ‘That’s OK,’ Ben says, getting up and dusting himself off. ‘I love dogs. Are they all yours?’

  ‘My babies.’ She smiles. ‘Total chaos, but what big family doesn’t have its dramas? And at least they don’t talk back. Most of the time. Anyway, let’s start again. I’m Thandi,’ she beams, stretching out her arm and delivering a firm handshake with soft hands. ‘Please, come through. Would you like a drink? There’s mineral water on the table already.’

  ‘Wonderful,’ Ben comments, craning his neck around the room, examining the artwork.

  ‘You have a beautiful home,’ Millie comments as they enter a large dining room.

  ‘Thank you,’ Thandi says, showing them where to sit. ‘It feels like the project that never ends, but it keeps me occupied outside of work hours. The few hours I get, anyway. So, where would you like to start? This is incredibly exciting, I must say.’

  ‘Exciting is one way of looking at it,’ Ben repeats slowly, nodding his head.

  ‘Oh, you have reservations?’ Thandi asks, glancing between them.

  ‘No, no, no reservations,’ says Millie, getting in before Ben does. ‘We’ve been interviewing all sorts of people who’ve reacted differently. Lots agree with you, though – it is very exciting! And we can’t wait to see how it might really help people in certain situations.’

  ‘Would you call it a situation if it’s been going on for twenty years?’ Thandi replies. ‘I’d call it a condition. One that’s made me sick for a very long time.’

  ‘We’re really sorry to hear that. Would you like to start from the beginning? Tell us how you’ve got here?’ Millie softens her voice.

  ‘I suppose I should start with my childhood. It might give you an insight into the kind of mind that might be susceptible to falling in love,’ she says, taking a long sip of water and leaning back in her chair. ‘I’ve always been ambitious. Ever since I can remember I’ve chased self-actualisation and I’ve been fixated on achievement. Being top of my class and the best at any game has always been what has fulfilled me emotionally. My mum was a hard worker, but we didn’t have much, and she put most of what she had into my education. Looking back, I think my insatiable thirst for the trophies and the high marks was a
ll part of me wanting to pay her back for everything she’s done. She lent me the money to start this business, which is all I ever wanted. And that brings me to Simone.’

  ‘Where did you meet Simone?’ Millie asks.

  ‘At uni, on our first day. She was standing in front of me in the queue to collect our room keys. She turned round and kapow! instant crush. I thought it would be fleeting, like these things always are, but then I discovered we were on the same course, and I soon realised it was something more. It was difficult to diagnose because I’d never felt like that before. I suppose very few have. I couldn’t get her out of my head. Still can’t. I think about her constantly, it’s a nightmare. What I don’t understand is how someone who is so in control of her life, like me, is so out of control when it comes to this.’

  ‘Did anything ever happen between you at uni?’ Ben asks.

  ‘No, never.’

  ‘Have you ever told her how you feel?’ he adds.

  ‘No. I didn’t want to get hurt or lose my best friend. And I still don’t, which is why we’re here. Long story short, Simone and I have been best friends since that day in the queue. After uni, we went into business together. I mean, the truth is, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go into this business. All I knew is that I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. I got lucky in that she’s brilliant at the business, too, and we work well together. I thought my feelings would eventually pass, but they haven’t. They’ve only got stronger, and it’s reached a point where I’m finding it impossible to work with her. To even know her. I’ve been hurting for a long time now. When I think about her never feeling the same way, I double up in pain. When she talks about sliding other people, I am consumed with jealousy. When she’s in the same room as me, it takes all my strength not to stare, or reach out to touch her. I feel like my life has been slowly unravelling for twenty years, and I need help. And from the sound of it, these miracle pills could save me, save our friendship and the business.’

  Millie looks around the room. It’s spotless, as if it could have been airbrushed.

  ‘I’m sorry for pushing the point, Thandi,’ Ben says, ‘but why not just tell her? If you’re best friends, I’m sure she would rather you were honest with her. I mean, let’s say you did take these pills. What happens if Simone suddenly turns round and confesses her feelings for you? Wouldn’t that be tragic.’