by Bloom, Anna
“Has someone died?”
It’s the first question a man would ask.
“They may as well have,” I snot back through my tears.
He waits whilst I catch my breath, and then I tell him. He looks at me in complete shock and tightens his arms around me.
I curl up in a ball and he fits himself around me like a protective shell. I snuggle into his worn T-shirt that smells of softener and cigarettes. It smells like him.
After a while, I calm down and manage to have a normal conversation.
“It’s just not what I wanted for either of them, you know?” I say.
He nods in agreement.
“I mean, you have to be accountable for your actions, but she is eighteen, for fuck's sake,” I continue.
Then I have another thought.
“I could kill my brother. I really could.”
He nods again in agreement. He is very quiet.
“What’s wrong?”
“My mum was eighteen when she had my oldest sister.”
Oh.
I don’t know what to say to that. I know he comes from a broken home. I guess he doesn’t want to see that happen to either of his friends.
“I’m sorry.”
“You said that last time. There's nothing for you to be sorry for.” His voice is soft and low in my ear.
I reach up and put my lips against his, the sweetest of slow kisses.
“I am sorry for anything that hurts you.”
Even if it is me, I add in my head. Especially if it is me.
It is completely wrong under the circumstances, in fact it is most indecent, but suddenly I just really need to be with him. Not simply sex. I want to connect with him, bond with him. Whatever. I don’t care but I need to do it now. I push myself out of his embrace and onto my knees. He watches me in confusion as I lift my jumper up over my head. The look on his face clears as I lean myself down alongside him and pull him close, hoping to lose myself in him so I can forget the nightmare that is going on around us.
This time it is different between us. It is like we are speaking a language without words as we slowly find each other.
I know that when the time comes, it will be this memory that hurts me the most. This will be the moment that I will never be able to erase out of my mind no matter how much time passes.
I will be ninety-nine years old and I will still remember this cold miserable January day. The day I found out that my best friend was pregnant by my brother and I finally connected with someone, connected in a way from which I would never be able to separate.
17th January
Meredith is still in my room. She has ignored all of Tristan’s calls. He has also been calling me and Ben. I had to tell Meredith that Ben knew. She was okay with it and he has been sitting with her giving the Ben Chambers foot rub whilst I have been Googling trying to find out what to do. How did everyone survive before Google?
I tried to get her to go to the doctor, but she says she is too scared. I’m not going to force her yet. Just give her a bit longer to adjust and tell Tristan. She has to tell him. He is going nuts. There are fifteen missed calls on her phone and as many on mine. Mine also has some rude messages as well. Funny that hers doesn’t.
According to Google, if Meredith is right about Christmas Day being the whole 'forget the condom thing,' then she is about six weeks pregnant. Something about it being dated from your last period, not the actual day you did it.
I cannot get my head around it. My best friend is pregnant with my brother’s child. Every time I think about it I want to be violently sick.
18th January
8.00 a.m.
We can no longer use the snow as an excuse for not going to class.
Ben and I are going to go. Meredith is staying home with a ‘tummy bug.’
9.30 a.m.
Ben sits next to me in Meredith’s seat. In any other circumstances this would have given me butterflies, or made me grin like a crazy person. I do not feel much like grinning, though. He hooks his foot around my ankle so that even whilst we are listening to the lecture and writing notes we are still touching and connected someway. It’s the same way we sleep in bed, one foot hooked around another.
11.55 a.m.
When we leave Howard, Tristan is pacing outside. I want to cry the moment I see him but I manage to hold it together. This is Meredith’s tale to tell not mine—no matter how much it hurts for me to keep this from my twin.
“What the fuck is going on?” he demands as he storms up.
Ben edges in front of me so Tristan cannot get right in my face.
“Tristan, please calm down,” I plead, “Let’s not make a scene.”
“Let’s not make a scene? Where the hell have you all been?”
He is shouting and we are collecting an audience as all the other students are exiting their lectures.
“Calm down, Trist,” says Ben, using his calm voice, the one he normally uses with me. It doesn’t work so well on my brother.
“Piss off, Ben! Where the hell is Meredith?”
Guess it’s worth a try. “She is just sick, Trist. Go home, and I will ask her to call you.”
“Not a chance! I want to see her now! If she has changed her mind about me, she can tell me to my bloody face!”
My god! He actually thinks that she has changed her mind. He looks broken by this possibility.
Just then it hits me. He actually loves her! Like, really loves her, the ‘not going to live without her’ kind of love.
Ben looks at me questioningly.
I give him a nod.
“You had better come back with us,” Ben says. He doesn’t meet Tristan’s gaze.
Neither of us can.
12.07 p.m.
Just got back. Meredith went mad when I told her Tristan was with us, shouting until she started to cry.
Tristan barged in when he heard her crying and dashed over to her.
I just walked out. That is something I have no desire to watch.
Instead, I am sitting in Ben’s room in silence holding his hand as if he is an anchor and my life depends on him.
19th January
I can’t even put into words how proud I am of my brother. How my arse of a dad and tit of a mum managed to create him is completely beyond comprehension.
My twin has finally grown up. I don’t think I can call him ‘Tristan the Arse’ anymore. It just would not be fair.
He took complete control, did not freak out at all, even though I did notice his hand shaking a little when he was making Meredith a cup of tea.
Could I be that brave if it was me? Of course not. I can’t even tell the man that I love that I am in love with him. Pathetic.
Lilah = Pathetic.
Tristan = Not pathetic.
20th January
Meredith is coming back to lectures tomorrow after the doctor appointment that Tristan has scheduled for her. He signed her up at our local doctor in Putney, giving our flat address as hers so that she did not have go to the University doctor. That was a great idea. Why didn't I come up with it?
Jayne knows. Of course she does. She could tell straight away that something was up. Goth Chick, who is still annoyingly hanging around, has been left out of the loop. She does not crack the nod on the ‘need to know’ list.
Ben has been a trooper, cooking away for everyone and basically stopping me from having a complete meltdown from the stress of it all. He cooks, and I make tea and coffee, even if it does taste like cat piss.
We have not been together in the ‘you know what way’ since the day we found out Meredith’s shocking news. I think he knows I have enough to cope with, let alone dealing with the emotional trauma of having our relationshi
p precariously balancing on a knife’s edge, not knowing what is real and what is ‘pretend’ anymore.
Every night he stays in my room or I stay in his. He plays guitar until I fall asleep and then just curls himself around me.
Every morning I wake up wishing that it never had to end, but I know that it does.
Today I realised with a shock that Tristan and Meredith are going to need that flat in Putney in the next few months. My dad is still failing at being Father of the Year and is threatening to sell it. I need to sort this out. Tristan cannot pay the price for my mistakes. Tomorrow I am going to have it out with Daddy Dearest.
21st January
11.13 a.m.
My attempt sounds something like this from my side.
“Sheila, it’s Lilah. Is my dad there?"
She replies.
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
I listen again.
“Tell him to man up and talk to me before he ends up losing his entire family.”
Well, that went well.
I will try again later.
2.00 p.m.
“Lilah, it’s your father. Would you please not leave me rude messages?”
“Dad, we need to talk about the flat.”
“No. How about we talk about your behaviour?”
“What? Dad, I’m twenty-six. I can make my own choices, but you cannot make Tristan pay for them. Please.”
I hate to say ‘please’ but I know it will help. I light a cigarette to make it more palatable.
“It’s too late, Lilah. I have already instructed Estate Agents.”
“Please, Dad! Let me make it up to you, I will do anything. Just don’t let Tristan lose his home because of me.”
Silence.
“Come back to the bank, and we will forget all about it.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Come back to the bank, and we will forget about it.”
“How about if I try and pay you for half of the flat, Dad?”
I have the cash in my rainy day fund, minus the Gibson.
“No dice, Delilah.”
“I can’t believe you are doing this to me. I love being at Uni.”
I sigh with frustration. Do I, though? Will I love it next year when Ben is no longer here? I don’t know.
Silence.
“I will pay for the half the flat so Tristan is secure, and I will return to the Bank for the summer and see how we get on. Best deal, Dad."
“Well done, Delilah. I knew you would come to your senses. You have a great career in front of you. It would be a shame to waste it. I’m sure that John will be relieved to know his partner will be back to help boost profits.”
I hang up.
That did not go at all the way I expected. I finish my cigarette leaning far out of the window. I probably wouldn’t be overly concerned if I fell out right now and landed on my head.
22nd January
“Absolutely not.”
Tristan is pacing, which is an impressive feat in the Guinea Pig cage.
“It’s okay, Trist. I can afford it.”
He stops and stares at me. They are not the only blue eyes staring at me.
“What about your degree?”
“Well, I only agreed to the summer. I can still come back next year.”
Tristan greets this with a big raspberry, which I don’t think is very grown up for someone expecting a baby.
“Bollocks!” he explodes. “You know that once you go back you will never leave. That is exactly what Dad is planning.”
“It doesn't matter. You guys need a home.”
“We can get a smaller one. That flat is ridiculous,” he says.
I’ve already thought of this. My money is not enough to buy a whole flat in the same area. All I can do is secure Tristan’s half.
Meredith is crying again.
Ben is staring. I do not know what he is thinking, I can’t read his face, it’s immobile and half in shadow.
“This is getting us nowhere. Can’t you just say thank you?” I ask, getting frustrated.
“Thank you,” say Tristan and Meredith at the same time, which makes me smile.
“It’s okay, guys. I want to help you. I love you both.”
Ben gets up and leaves the room. I don’t go after him. He’ll come back and tell me what is wrong when he is ready.
Except he doesn’t.
23rd January
And still Ben does not come back.
He is around still doing all the normal stuff, and doing the Ben Chambers’ stoic thing. But he is not talking to me whilst he does it.
What on earth have I done for him to act this way? I just don’t get it.
I think about this as I jog around the roads of Roehampton at crazy o'clock in the morning. I could not face the gym this morning, so instead I have decided to go for a little run in the local vicinity. Thing is, the local vicinity is a little scary: a huge estate filled with towering blocks of flats. I’m sure I see a couple of burnt-out cars, but that could be my imagination. It’s Roehampton, for goodness’ sake, not a bloody war zone.
It's fair to say my jog is actually more of a fast-paced run as I try to get out of the dodgy areas.
As I complete my fast sprint, I think over Ben’s recent behaviour. This, in turn, makes me think of our history so far. It is not pretty.
We meet, have a bizarre attraction thing where we drive each other crazy and cannot keep our hands off each other. He pisses me off. And I ignore him.
Eventually, I decide not to be pissed off any more. We have a crazy attraction thing, drive each other crazy, and cannot keep our hands off each other. Then I piss him off. And now he ignores me.
It’s not the most mature behaviour I have ever come across.
As I haul my sweaty out-of-breath arse up the stairs, I decide enough is enough.
I am going to have it out with him.
Ben’s Room
Okay, it will have to be after he gets out of the shower.
I could barge in there and have it out with him, but I don’t think seeing him all naked, wet, and soapy is conducive to serious conversation.
Instead, I will sit on his bed in my sweaty clothes and wait for him to come out of the shower. I am not backing down now. How dare he ignore me when I have done nothing wrong at all!
At least when I ignored him it was with good reason, never mind that the good reason was mainly due to my own deep-set paranoia and insecurities. That is not the point at all.
Blimey! He showers like a girl! He has been in there for ages!
The Showdown
“What are you doing in here?” He glares at me.
I am going to go out on a limb and say he is not best pleased to see me sitting on his bed.
“Waiting for you to get out of your girly shower.” I glare at him.
“Why are you glaring at me?” he demands.
“Because you piss me off. Why the hell are you ignoring me?” I demand right back.
He breathes a deep sigh and sits down on the bed next to me.
I try in vain not to look too closely at him, maintaining eye contact where possible because he is wrapped just in a wet towel and it is mighty distracting.
“I am not ignoring you, Lilah.”
“I beg to differ.”
He waves his hand at me to shush me.
How very rude.
“I am not ignoring you, Lilah. I just don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“What you are talking about? I thought things were okay between us.”
“Yeah, they were until you did the whole self-sacrificing thing with your dad the other day. Now I a
m not so sure.”
“What do you mean ‘not so sure’? I don’t get it. I am just trying to help Tristan.”
“Yes, Lilah, but did you ever stop to think that maybe you don’t have to help and save people all the time?” He runs a hand through his wet hair.
I have nothing to say to this.
“Tristan is a big boy, Lilah. Big enough to get a girl pregnant, and he can deal with this.”
“How? He does not even have a job and Dad was threatening to sell the flat.”
He looks at me like I am mad. “Do you honestly think your brother doesn't have a job?” he asks, sounding incredulous.
“What do you mean? I know he doesn’t have one. Remember, I just spent December with him. He hangs around the whole time working out how to spend Dad’s money.”
“What? No, he doesn’t! He writes articles, lifestyle ones, which magazines pay lots of money for. You just never bothered to ask him what he does.”
Pardon? My mouth falls open to the floor. My waste of space brother actually writes for a living? I did not even know he owned a computer. I can’t believe it, and I can’t prevent the stab of jealousy that hits me when I realise he actually has my perfect job.
It strikes me that I have just played right back into my darling father's hands—again.
Shit.
Ben’s eyes grow wide as he realises I really didn’t know. “So do you see why I am annoyed? I thought that you would be here next year, that I would be able to come and find you again, that maybe if I gave you some space, by the time I got back you might be ready to actually tell me that you are in fact in love me and want to be with me. Instead, you won’t be here. You'll back to pretending to enjoy a life that you hate, just like the first time I ever saw you.”
Again, I can’t find any words and I feel my stomach start to do uncomfortable flip-flop thingys in my stomach.
“Lilah, you have to stop protecting everyone else and let other people deal with their own choices.”
I stare back at him in shock. He knows that I am in love with him, but not telling him so he does not change his mind about going abroad. He knows that I came to university because I wanted to escape but did not want to hurt anyone, which I did anyway.
