The Couple

by Helly Acton

  Millie always goes to her mum’s when she’s ill. There’s something comforting about the smell of her old bed when she’s under the weather. Looking shaky on arriving, Vivian quickly ushered her into her bedroom, switched off the lights and spent the evening bringing her peppermint tea and plain toast. Her mum might not be overly sentimental, but she’s certainly practical in a situation like this. That’s how she cares. Whatever this is.

  Millie said she had stomach flu. She couldn’t tell her the truth, obviously. The truth would lead to a loud meltdown that Millie doesn’t have the energy for. Storm Vivian is the last thing she feels like facing.

  Against her better judgement, Millie opens the flight tracker app she downloaded before she fell asleep and searches for his plane. He’s over Turkey. She watches as the plane edges along the screen and she imagines him in the seat, moving further and further away. Her stomach lurches for the hundredth time. She clicks her phone off and crams it under her pillow, out of sight. Is this what lovesick feels like? Maybe it’s a case of it gets worse before it gets better. A minute later, she snatches the phone back and opens her messages. She just wants to reread the last one he sent. It was the morning before their chat at the pond.

  Ben:

  I’m sorry for everything. Take care, Millie x

  Why didn’t she just reply? If she’d replied to him, he wouldn’t have brought that letter to her flat. He wouldn’t have found Bruce, they wouldn’t have gone to the park, they wouldn’t have had that conversation or that kiss. That kiss. Millie shuts her eyes again and imagines his face on hers. The feel of his soft stubble, his lips. She continues to scroll back through all the messages they ever sent each other, right to the beginning, reliving those moments in her mind. The hangman puzzle.

  Ben:

  _ _ / _ _ _ _ _ / _ _ / _ / _ _ _ _ _ _ _ / _ _ _ _ _ _ x

  She never did work it out. And, as she stares at it, she starts to feel desperate for the answer.

  Millie reaches into her handbag on the floor by the bed and takes out the letter. It’s still unopened. She can’t bring herself to read what it says and get served another painful reminder of what could have been.

  Ping!

  Millie flinches, like she’s been caught in the act.

  June:

  You still up? How are you feeling?

  Millie:

  AWFUL

  June:

  Side effects?

  Millie:

  Mind racing

  June:

  Thinking of . . .

  Millie:

  Him. Haven’t stopped

  Millie flinches again when her phone starts to ring loudly. She answers quickly before Vivian wakes up.

  ‘What do you mean, you haven’t stopped thinking about him?’ June says, with a telltale drunken hiccup. ‘I thought that was the whole point of Oxytoxin?’

  ‘It’s not working, June! My stomach hurts, I’m nauseous, I’m so tired I can barely lift my head, yet I can’t get to sleep! And I want to know what this bloody hangman puzzle means that Ben sent me!’

  ‘What hangman puzzle?’ June says.

  ‘The first text he ever sent me was a hangman puzzle, and I don’t know what the answer is. I never worked it out and now it’s too late to ask him.’

  ‘Could you call him when he lands? Or text him?’ June says. ‘You know that he’ll want to hear from you. If that’s what it will take to make you feel better.’

  ‘I can’t start up a conversation again! That’ll make me look like a total weirdo,’ Millie whispers. ‘I’m not supposed to be thinking about him, remember? Yesterday was goodbye.’

  ‘Look, maybe Oxytoxin takes a few days to kick in. Or maybe it doesn’t work for everyone. Shall I come over? I can be there in five. You can spoon me and pretend I’m Ben. I’ll put that red wig on my chin to make it more realistic.’

  ‘Sounds like you guys had a good night,’ Millie replies.

  ‘Tequila!’ June sings. ‘It makes me happy!’

  ‘Not sure you’ll be singing that tomorrow. I think I can smell it from here,’ Millie laughs through sniffs.

  ‘Seriously, though, are you OK?’ June asks.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Millie says, gathering herself. ‘It’s probably just the last few weeks catching up with me. Just need to get over myself, really. Get a grip. I’ll be better in a few hours, I’m sure.’

  ‘I won’t be,’ June moans.

  ‘Drink some water, get some sleep,’ Millie replies.

  ‘I hate seeing you like this, Mils,’ June says, softly.

  ‘And I hate being like this,’ Millie replies.

  ‘How do you feel about him right now?’ June asks.

  ‘It feels like I still love him.’

  ‘What! Who do you love?’ a shrill voice sounds from behind the door, before it flies open.

  Millie has déjà vu. When Millie and June were fifteen, they snuck out of the flat at midnight to meet friends in Soho. When they crept back in at 4 a.m. the next morning, Vivian was standing in the dimly lit hallway in her long black dressing gown, tapping her foot. June burst out laughing. Millie knew better and instantly shut up. Vivian spent the next hour reprimanding them for being stupid and irresponsible. This morning, not much has changed.

  ‘I’m not angry,’ Vivian says, with flared nostrils, leaning against the kitchen counter.

  ‘Are you sure? Because from here, it looks like you’ve got steam streaming out of your nose,’ Millie replies, sipping her tea.

  ‘Do you think this is funny, Millabelle?’ Vivian scoffs.

  ‘I really don’t,’ Millie responds. ‘I feel sick about the whole thing.’

  ‘Like I said, I’m not angry, I’m just worried about you,’ Vivian repeats, trying her best soft tone. ‘You’re suddenly in love with a colleague? You kissed him at an office party? You lied to us about where you’ve been and why you’ve been there?’

  ‘It was a work trip originally, I didn’t lie about that,’ Millie defends.

  ‘You’ve put your entire career and professional reputation at risk,’ Vivian snaps.

  ‘Mum, I’m thirty, not thirteen. You can’t scold me anymore. It’s my life!’

  ‘You’re certainly behaving like you’re thirteen, sulking in your childhood bedroom. And you wonder why you didn’t get that promotion! I can spot an office slide from a mile away, Millie! The looks across the desks. The little sniggers. The lunches. Colleagues who’ve slid think they’re so clever at hiding it, when everybody knows! And everybody is talking about it.’

  ‘Oh my god, Mum, I haven’t slid anyone,’ Millie fibs. ‘And please stop saying that. No one at work suspects anything.’ She won’t mention Sasha. ‘And besides, we don’t have to worry about it anymore. Ben’s gone. And I’ve taken Oxytoxin.’

  ‘It obviously isn’t working!’ Vivian cries.

  ‘I only took it yesterday. Let’s just wait and see.’

  ‘Well, at least he’s gone. Good riddance to bad influences.’

  Millie’s blood pressure surges. But before they get into a full-blown row, she takes a deep breath in to stop herself from exploding. There’s no point having an argument. Ben is gone. And with any luck, her feelings will, too.

  ‘What’s that smell?’ Millie suddenly asks, her eyes popping open.

  ‘Eucalyptus,’ Vivian replies. ‘From a new diffuser I bought yesterday.’

  Millie sinks her face into her hands.

  ‘You know I only ever wanted the best for you, Millie,’ Vivian says, switching the kettle back on. ‘I’ve seen a few talented people get stuck in relationships, and I won’t let that happen to you. Relationships suck the life out of you. I know you’re an adult now, but you’ll always be my girl.’

  ‘I know, Mum,’ Millie sighs.

  ‘More tea?’ Vivian asks.

  Millie nods, and watches her mum turn before opening the app again.

  Ben’s over Iran.

  Ping!

  Al:

  You OK? Worri
ed.

  Millie:

  Why aren’t you in bed?

  Al:

  I am! Not mine hehe

  Millie:

  Boom

  Al:

  Can you swing by Buddies tomorrow? I have things to say

  Millie:

  Sure x

  Dearest Belle,

  By the time you read this letter, I might be 10,553 miles away from you in Sydney. I’ve booked a one-way flight and I won’t be back any time soon. I need space, and Australia has lots of it. It has lots of sand, too, so perhaps it’s a good thing you aren’t coming. Although I hope our trip to Tenby changed your mind a bit. I hoped that it would change your mind about us, too, but I’ve accepted now that it did not. Don’t worry, this letter isn’t a guilt trip. And nor is my actual trip meant to be. I’ve had itchy feet for a while, and I think some Bondi sand in between my toes could fix that. This letter is just a little note to say thank you for the last few weeks. Without you, I would have left London some time ago, and I’m so glad I gave it a shot. It was . . . an experience. But an experience that I needed to help me make important changes in my life. To leave Human for good, and think about what I want to do with myself. So, thank you for keeping me here for as long as you did. Thank you for the laughs. Thank you for the tea. Thank you for the hangman puzzles. And finally, thank you for being my mate here. I hope you know that, despite what has happened between us, I’ll consider you a friend, always.

  With love (don’t freak out, not that kind of love) from

  Ben

  Ben has landed. He is 10,553 miles away from her. If that’s not distance, what is?

  ‘Chin up, phone down,’ Al says, handing Millie a beer over the bar.

  Millie throws her phone in her bag, imagining how she could drink ten of these bottles quite easily, even though it’s Monday tomorrow.

  ‘How can you drink after last night?’ Millie laughs. ‘I heard tequila was involved.’

  ‘Hair of the dog always works for me,’ Al says, swilling the bottle around in her hand.

  ‘I’ve never understood that,’ Millie replies.

  ‘So, how are you feeling?’ Al asks.

  ‘Pretty shit, to be honest,’ Millie says, taking a swig. ‘But I don’t know if it’s the pill or the situation.’

  ‘Any side effects?’

  ‘No effects whatsoever, it seems.’

  ‘Millie, I want to know what we were really doing yesterday,’ Al says, changing the subject abruptly. ‘At yours. With the pros and cons list.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What was the point? I mean, you’re so clearly into him, why not just go for it? Stop fucking whining about it and do something! You know, follow your heart! Sorry for being blunt, but you’re making a right meal of it when it doesn’t have to be. He loves you. You love him. Love each other. If you still can, after that weird-arse pill you took.’

  ‘What, in a couple?’ Millie grimaces.

  ‘Uh, yeeeah, in a couple.’ Al grimaces back, mimicking her. ‘What’s the big deal? I mean, I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but how do you know it’s not yours if you don’t try it?’

  ‘Well, you were there,’ Millie says indignantly. ‘The whole point of making the list was to decide whether being in a couple is something I want to do. And, it turns out, I don’t. Or at least, I shouldn’t. There are too many downsides.’

  ‘What like, sharing food?’ Al scoffs. ‘June eats half your food straight off your plate and I don’t see you complaining about that.’

  ‘That’s different,’ Millie says.

  ‘How? Maybe your problem is that you’ve been in a couple with June for too long.’

  ‘I have not!’ Millie laughs.

  Al shrugs.

  ‘Al, I’m hardly in a couple with June,’ Millie says, straight-faced this time.

  ‘OK, perhaps you aren’t in a couple. But you do care about what she thinks. Maybe too much. June hates the idea of couples. And, being that you’re two peas, that makes it very hard for you to even think about being in one.’

  ‘Hate is a strong word, Al. Couples just make June uncomfortable,’ Millie says. ‘More so than most. You know what happened with her parents.’

  ‘Yeah, it was fucked up,’ Al says. ‘But what happened to her parents is not for you to worry about. Just because they had a shitty relationship, doesn’t mean that you will. Anyway, whatever,’ Al says. ‘It might be too late anyway. I just think that being in a couple with Ben should have been your decision, and I feel like it wasn’t. Sure, we went through the practical downsides, but I feel like the main reason you aren’t going for it is because you’re embarrassed. You feel like it’s freakish, or something. But Millie, stuff what other people think. Go with your gut. And your head. If they’re telling you that you want to be with him, then that’s what you should do.’

  ‘My gut is screaming right now,’ Millie says. ‘It’s like I’ve swallowed shards of glass.’

  ‘Well, maybe that’s a sign.’

  ‘Don’t you care what people think of you?’ Millie asks, contemplating Al’s comments about June. She can’t deny the shame she felt when she saw June in the park. Or the guilt she felt when she imagined being with Ben for the long haul, like his parents, and breaking the news to June that the beach house wouldn’t work, or having kids, like they discussed a few years ago.

  ‘Do I care what people think? Hell, no!’ Al laughs. ‘I mean, take a look around us, Millie. I’ve been working in this fleapit for six years. Six years! You think I’d work here all this time, after getting a first-class degree in journalism, if I cared what people thought of me? I know everyone thinks I’m a loser, but I’m happy here. I’m close to home, I work with mates, the tips are good and I get to hang out with you guys every Friday night. And, when I feel like it, I’ll do some writing on the side. I can sell my eggs on eBabe again if I ever need a salary top-up. I’ve done it before. And let’s not forget, free beer! Sure, it’s not a high-flying career. But I’m flying high on happiness.’

  ‘That was beautiful.’ Millie laughs. ‘Also, no one thinks you’re a loser.’

  ‘Right,’ Al laughs. ‘Tell that to my dad. But it’s OK. I think you’re a loser for letting Ben get away, when I think he could have made you happier than maybe you could ever imagine.’

  ‘Ouch,’ Millie mutters.

  ‘Yes, ouch,’ Al says.

  ‘Too late now, right?’ Millie says, downing the rest of her drink.

  ‘I don’t believe in too late. One for the road?’

  ‘How about five?’

  Thirty-Six

  @sashah:

  Happy Monday! Can we have a quick chat? Boardroom.

  @milliej:

  I’m in the middle of something important. Half an hour?

  @sashah:

  see you in five minutes, Millie.

  Sasha glances up from her phone, but continues to type, as Millie enters the boardroom.

  ‘Have a seat,’ she says, suggesting that Millie needs her permission, when in fact Millie is already halfway to sitting.

  Sasha slams her phone on the table and leans forward on her elbows, wrapping her red talons around each other.

  ‘So, I had a very interesting call from San Francisco this morning,’ Sasha says, smiling. ‘They were thrilled with our pitch. They loved how we scaled it up to include different audiences and markets. And in particular, they are thrilled with the idea of rebranding for Oxytoxin Teens. They are so thrilled, in fact,’ Sasha continues, ‘that they’ve given us the rest of the Oxytoxin business, without a pitch. This is huge. It’s even bigger than Pros, Teens, Twos and Fix, Millie. So big that they’ve asked us to transfer a creative team to San Francisco for a month to work at Human HQ. And I’ve already chosen the creative team for the task.’

  ‘Who?’ Millie asks, knowing the answer by the look on Sasha’s face.

  ‘You and me!’ Sasha cries. ‘The work needs our most senior team, which is us. We can rent
together short term near the campus, get lifts in together and grab drinks in the valley after work. Have you seen the campus? It’s like a luxury holiday park. Plus, I know a couple of people at Slide San Fran who could show us where to hang out at weekends. Are you excited?’

  All Millie can picture is trying to find a space for her milk among a thousand yoghurt pots.

  ‘That sounds . . . amazing,’ Millie eventually responds. ‘So, what does the rest of the work involve? Are they bringing out more products?’

  ‘A vaccine,’ Sasha grins.

  ‘A vaccine?’ Millie asks, her eyebrows creasing.

  ‘For toddlers, Millie!’ Sasha cries. ‘Parents are now going to be able to prevent their toddlers from falling in love using an Oxytoxin vaccine! Giving them even more choice and peace of mind. Plus, it saves them the hassle of trying to convince their spawn to take a tablet. It’s genius, really.’

  Millie’s heart is pounding through a tight chest and she’s counting down from ten to reach some level of calm before she can respond.

  ‘So, what do you say, flatmate?’ Sasha asks, grinning at her. ‘You and me?’

  ‘What the slide, Sasha?’ Millie cries. ‘Babies?’

  ‘What? Millie, we’ll be saving little children from heartbreak! Isn’t that a good thing?’ Sasha responds, before her eyes lower to Millie’s neckline. ‘Are you OK? You look like you have some sort of rash. Do you wear a lot of polyester?’

  ‘I’m not going to San Francisco with you,’ Millie says, staring at her.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Sasha asks, frowning. ‘To be quite frank, it wasn’t a question, it was a statement. I am your senior, your superior. We are the Oxytoxin creative team. We have to go to San Francisco at the end of the month to work on the vaccine campaign. I’ve already said we would. Skye’s sent me a load of flats to look at, which I was going to forward to you later.’

  ‘I’m not going to San Francisco with you because I’m leaving,’ Millie states.