by Bloom, Anna
For a few moments I allow myself to completely forget everything, I just let Ben reel me in and enjoy the feel of his mouth on mine, the way his hands move over me, and the sensation of having his skin under my fingertips again. After a while, I pull away.
“I can’t do more than this at the moment,” I say a little breathlessly meeting his eyes.
He just squeezes my hand and leads me back into the club where we have to beg to be let back in again, explaining that we have left our jackets and belongings behind. Oh, and our friends, too. The bouncer is laughing. I think he enjoyed our little lovers' spat. He gives me a cheeky wink as I pass by.
Back in the club, Ben sticks like glue to my side. We don’t touch, apart from occasionally in passing, but each connection sends a little charge of electricity across my skin. James eyes the competition, before giving in with reasonable grace and moving off to find a new target, but not before he leans in and kisses me on the cheek, which makes Ben stiffen at my side.
Meredith has found Tristan and has her arms around his neck, no doubt telling him how much she shloves him.
I send her an eye roll of disgust, which she ignores. It’s all good fun, but at twelve, I know it is time to head home. I want to go to the gym before class tomorrow.
I wave goodbye to everyone and head towards the door.
Ben follows me. I kind of knew he would.
“I am going to walk,” I say. I could do with the fresh air.
“Uh, no, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, then I am walking with you.”
He sighs and falls into step with me. After about five minutes he rather bizarrely switches sides and walks on the edge of the pavement.
“What are you doing?”
“Walking by the traffic.”
“You know I am twenty-six right? Not six?”
He turns and smiles. “I know, but I am doing it anyway.”
I can’t help but smile. His action is very gentlemanly and old-fashioned and it is gives me warm fuzzy feelings as we meander down the Upper Richmond Road on our way home. After another five minutes I slide my hand into his. He doesn’t say anything, just walks along next to me in silence holding my hand.
When we get home, he hesitates outside my door.
“Lilah, do you think I could take you on another date?” His voice is low and he looks so bashful standing there.
I nod my agreement with little hesitation.
“It’s just that I realised that I only ever took you out properly once. We just, we just . . . Well, you know.”
He is blushing bright red.
“Had sex?” I add helpfully, but then I feel my cheeks go red as well, which makes us both giggle.
“That would be lovely. Thanks for walking me home, Ben,” I say as I head into my room.
“You’re welcome, Lilah.”
Mmm. I’m not sure what to think of this turn of events. What does it mean? Snogging in Foxtons? Walking me home? Asking for a date?
All I know is I’m sitting here grinning my head off like a complete fool.
I need to sleep on it. It will be clearer in the morning.
10th January
6.00 a.m.
It’s not that much clearer.
Gym
Classes
Study
Reading
Bed
I am a student extraordinaire.
No cigarettes
Only two teeny drinkies.
And only a little bit of listening to other people's conversations, especially those behind me. I manage to keep my chair firmly on four legs, which I think is making good progress. I have to admit, I did miss an entire conversation that Meredith had with me today in class. She shook her head at me with pity when she realised what I had actually been listening to.
Meredith had been looking at the primary source we had been given for discussion and was giving me her initial highly intellectual feedback.
Instead, I heard:
“So, Ben. When is the band next playing?”
“Um, Saturday, I think.”
“Oh really? Whereabouts? Maybe the girls and I will come.”
“Uh, I can’t quite remember.”
“What? You can't remember where you are playing this Saturday?”
“Uh, no. I tend not to get involved in the details. I just rock up and play.”
I’m smiling a little smugly at this. I know where he is playing. He told me yesterday when he invited me along.
Meredith elbowed me at this point, and I had to look at the diary excerpt she was waving under my nose. I tuned in again as soon as I could.
“So, is it true you have been offered to work on an album in the States?”
“Yeah, it is.”
Even I can tell from my desk in front he now sounds uncomfortable.
Give it up, Miss Plastic.
“So when do you go? I bet you can’t wait!”
There is a moment of silence.
“24th of June, after the final exam,” he answers with a slightly lower voice.
Now this I did not know.
“Ooh! Imagine all those hot LA girls in bikinis!”
I cannot believe that she actually said that. Is she completely deranged?
“Mmm,” he replied.
Well, he doesn’t sound overly thrilled, but that could just be because he is talking to a blond airhead.
11:45 a.m.
“So 24th of June, hey?”
We’re walking in step across campus. Meredith has run off somewhere after seeing the strange green colour I went during my little eavesdropping exercise.
“Yeah, Liam has been sorting it all out.”
Liam is their manager and currently on the top of my people to hate list. He is actually quite a nice guy, but he is taking Ben away, which means he now has first place on my black list. It’s a hard spot to climb down from.
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah, it is all kinds of crazy.”
“Mmm, yeah, crazy.”
Oh, for the love of God! Will someone just run me over now? What I need is a big red double-decker to come careening out of control onto campus to put me out of my misery right now.
3.00 p.m.
Apparently there were no big red buses available.
“Okay, just to clarify, you could just tell him right now, go and knock on his door, and he would change his mind at the drop of a hat.”
Meredith has come home to find me hiding under my duvet. It’s been weeks since I have been found under there. She is obviously concerned, worried there has been a step back on the Lilah rehabilitation programme.
I stare at her.
“Yes, Miss Brainy, but if I tell him that now then he will back out of the plans for his band and miss out on the biggest opportunity they have ever been given.”
“Yeah, well, that is his choice to make, don’t ya think?”
I just pull the duvet back up again.
7.00 p.m.
I want a drink, but it is only the 10th of January. I cannot quit that easily. Instead I ring the gym and find out what classes are on that I can escape to.
8.45 p.m.
Spinning.
I've never done it before in my life, and I'll NEVER do it again. There is little chance in hell I will be able to move tomorrow. My legs feel like they have been set alight. James is there, hanging out at reception.
“Hi, Lilah,” he schmoozes. “Nice seeing you out the other night. We will have to arrange something for another time.”
I try to smile politely and escape out the door as fast as my incapacitated legs will take me. Pigeons walk faster and wit
h more dignity.
9.45 p.m.
“What are you doing?” asks Ben. Again.
“Um.” I am in so much pain I cannot think of anything. It has taken me 10 minutes to do the two-minute walk from the car to the door. The geese were frighteningly close when they sensed a prey that could not outrun them. I didn’t bother timing how long the stairs took.
“What class did you take?” he persists.
“Spinning. It is the work of the devil, but supposedly gives you buns of steel.”
“Come on, crazy girl,” he says as he pulls me up off the floor.
I try not to moan but fail miserably as he slips his arm around my waist and helps me into the lounge where I stop and look in shock. Goth Chick is sitting there in tears. Meredith and Jayne are hovering around like they are not entirely sure what they are supposed to be doing.
“What’s up?” I ask. I haven’t seen this girl in months. I’ve actually forgotten that she owns a front door key.
“Eva and I had a big fight,” she squeaks through tears that are streaking her makeup around her face in an alarming manner. She could audition for Kiss right now and they would welcome her with open arms.
“Who’s Eva?” I ask around a mouthful of rice salad that Ben has just handed me.
He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Um, our other flat mate,” he informs me, flashing me his best wicked smirk.
“Oh,” is all I say. I am loving the salad. At the moment it is the only thing keeping my mind distracted from the fact that my legs are about to fall off.
Goth Chick looks at me. She does not seem offended by my inability to remember her or her best friend. She then proceeds to tell me all the gory details of how she has been seeing a guy on campus but last night she found out that Eva has also been seeing him, too. How this guy managed to double cross two of the most standout noticeable girls on campus is beyond me, but I managed to make some sympathetic noises in the right places.
“So, are you back then?” I ask. I don’t want to seem rude, but we’ve hardly spoken in four months.
“Yeah, I think so,” she says, smearing some more mascara into her hairline.
I try to get myself out of my foam torture chair but not much happens. Ben laughs as he leans forward, pulls me up, then throws me over his shoulder, something that seems to be happening way too often. He walks me into my room and chucks me on my bed, nothing romantic about it.
“Lay off the exercise, hey, Lil?” He smirks before heading towards my door.
Sarcastic arse. Nice arse, but arse all the same.
11th January
I may be dead.
There is not a single muscle in my body that does not feel like it has been stretched to the absolute maximum before being ripped from my skeleton, jumped on by a herd of elephants, and then stuck back on again—not necessarily in the right place—with superglue.
12th January
I have been unable to walk up and down stairs for two days. I’ve missed lectures and everything. I would like to report that I am completely gutted to miss out on all of the exciting academic knowledge I should have been absorbing, but in truth I am more gutted that I’ve missed out on the conversations to eavesdrop upon. Meredith, bless her, did a good job of keeping me in the loop. She even took notes.
I have woken up determined. Today I will sort things out with my mum and dad. They can no longer treat me this way. I am their daughter, but I am also an adult, and they must acknowledge my decisions and choices in life!
Or something like that.
Something Like That
I completely ignore Tristan’s offer to come as mediator.
“How hard can it be?” I laugh. “I am their daughter. I’m sure they’ll be perfectly understanding once I explain what has been going on.”
Not so much.
First indication: My key does not fit in the door.
I wonder if they have been burgled and have forgotten to mention it to Tristan and me?
Second indication: “Psst! Delilah!”
It’s mum. Her head is poking through one of her prize rosebushes.
“You can’t be here. Your dad will have a heart attack if he sees you on the doorstep.”
She waves her hand at me as one would at a really annoying fly determined to land in your Chardonnay.
“What do you mean I cannot be here? This is my home. You know? The place I grew up. My bedroom is right there,” I say, pointing at the window above and to the right of my head.
Then I think of a more pressing matter.
“Mother, why are you hiding in a rosebush?”
Fair question, I think.
“He’ll be angry with me for talking to you. Please leave, Lilah, and wait for him to calm down.”
“Calm down from what, exactly?”
I am starting to get a bit annoyed. One of the irritating boys from down the road is circling at the end of the driveway watching our little exchange play out with great interest.
“Oh, you know, dear. For ruining your career, ruining your life by breaking poor John's heart for some awful singer.” She gives her head a shake, a movement hindered by the killer-sized thorns right next to her cheekbone.
“What?” I am completely astounded. “What are you talking about? I split up with John because I was not in love with him, for no other reason.” I am glaring at her and have crossed my arms resolutely over my chest. Being near my parents always makes me revert back to being a teenager, although normally it takes a little longer than this.
Mum raises an eyebrow. It occurs to me that this must be where Tristan inherited the infuriating habit from. It makes me mad.
“Well, maybe Daddy Dearest should come out here and talk to me like a grown-up,” I shout as loud I can. I am sure the rest of the cul-de-sac loves this little show Jeremy Kyle style.
“No, Lilah. He doesn’t want to see you.” Mum has the good grace to look a little sheepish.
“And are you okay with this?”
“No, of course not, but I know which side my bread is buttered on. Something that you obviously don’t.”
I cannot believe she just said that.
She leans forward as far as the bush and thorns will allow, a conspiratorial expression on her face, and adds, “I have been working on softening him a little for you. I’m sure that if you agree to stop Uni at the end of this year and get a job back at the bank, he will soon forget all this nastiness ever happened.”
I stare at her in shock. She has got to be joking, right? It doesn't seem like it. She looks at me like she has just offered me the world’s longest olive branch.
“Mum, that's not going to happen. I will see you around, I guess,” I respond as I turn and head back down the drive to Deathtrap Cooper.
“Oh, Lilah?” she calls after me. “Your father is also putting the Putney flat on the market at the beginning of July.”
I don’t bother to respond. I just wave my hands loosely over my shoulder. It may or may not have been a rude gesture.
Great. So not only is my dad never going to speak to me again—what is he like five or something?—Tristan is now going to lose his home as well. All because of me.
I seethed the whole way home, cranking Deathtrap Cooper to its absolute max, 66 miles an hour.
7.00 p.m.
Tristan is remarkably calm about the whole thing, considering our family has just effectively exploded apart at the seams.
“Don’t worry about it, Lil, he’ll never sell. That flat is too much of an investment for him.”
This is what Tristan does, though. He ducks and dives his way out of all sorts of trouble with our parents. Once, when they went away for the weekend, he and his stoned buddies set light to the priceless Turkish rug in the lou
nge. Instead of owning up, he doused the whole thing in water and then blamed it on a random bolt of lightning that magically shot through the window setting fire only to the rug.
Mum and dad had practically fallen at his feet praising him for saving their house and possessions. Mum had then turned on me and said, “Where were you, Lilah, whilst all this was happening and your brother was being a hero? In your room, no doubt, reading.”
My brother walks on water and shoots balls of fire out of his arse and all sorts of amazing things. I just remembered that this is why we have not been friends for years.
I glare at him, unable to put any words together. Ben is sitting on the end of my bed rubbing my feet. I love the fact that he does things like this even though we are not together. Like sometimes he just absentmindedly catches my hand and holds it for a few moments, not saying a word.
Hold on! I am supposed to be glaring at Tristan not dribbling over Ben.
“Well, don’t you think it is all a little bit over the top? I mean, really? I can’t believe that he is going to all this effort just because you dumped someone,” says Goth Chick.
I haven’t the foggiest why she is in my room or when she became part of our gang.
“Ugh, let’s not think about it now,” I plead, throwing myself back on my pillows. It’s all too much for me to contemplate right now.
“Anyway,” I continue. “Ben has a gig tonight. You guys are all going, aren’t you?”
There is a chorus of yeses and nods.
“Are you not coming?” The blues stare at me intently.
“I don’t want to be a kill joy and I am not really in the party mood,” I say, although I actually am in the party mood, or, more specifically, I am desperate for a drink. But I do not want to be defeated. It is only the 12th of January. I cannot give in yet.
“Well, I would prefer it if you were there,” he says quietly, just for me.
The blues make me melt a little as do the crinkled freckles when he senses that I have given in.
