by Bloom, Anna
This is not what we planned when a few short days ago we restarted our temporary relationship.
I do not want a baby. I cannot even think of myself as a mother.
Could I be a mother?
Of course I can’t!
I can’t even feed myself, let alone another person, solely reliant on me. Heck, I can't even be sober for more than a month, let alone for nine months or however long it takes to cook a baby.
However, the idea is not as repulsive to me as I would have thought. It is definitely not repulsive to Ben. We found out this morning that I have to leave the rest of my tablets and then wait a few days. There should be a period but it may or may not be real, something to do with the fact that when you stop the pill you automatically bleed, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you are or are not pregnant. I then have to wait a few days after that to do a test and then if it is all clear I can start my next packet on the first day of my next true period. It all sounds very confusing. It also means I have sent Ben out to Boots to buy some condoms. That would be just our luck: to not be pregnant now, but to actually manage conceive whilst waiting to find out if we are or not.
I am a bit embarrassed. Scrap that. I am completely, bloody mortified! I have never forgotten to take my pill. I spent four extremely pill-worthy nights with Ben and I managed not to take it once. It is just as well he is going away in a few months otherwise we would end up with a minibus of kids.
We have agreed not to talk about it. I know he is thinking about it, though. He actually tried not to have sex with me last night! Absolutely no way I am standing for that.
He is not going to be here when this all happens in a week or so, therefore I’ve had to promise that I’ll be in constant contact telling him what is happening.
After the last time when I didn’t pick up my phone to contact him, and the catastrophic events that followed, I have assured him that it will not be a problem. It feels weird that I know he is going away and that I am okay with it. I do trust him. I still don’t think I have the strength to do it on a long-term basis, but I know I can cope with him being away for a couple of weeks. Easy peasy.
13th March
“That’s a brilliant idea, Ben! Well done for coming up with it,” commends Professor Johnson in full kiss-arse mode.
“Actually, it was Lilah’s idea.”
“Oh really? Well, Lilah, we might make a decent student out of you yet,” he responds a bit uneasily, as though he's not sure if it's a joke or great news.
Yes, you sarcastic bastard, you might.
Or perhaps instead I will just have a baby and be done with it.
I am visualising my next year on campus pushing a pram around. I have to say I don’t think it is going to be a look that works for me. I am a ramshackle mess at the best of times what on earth would I be like with a baby thrown into the mix?
What would I do with it during the day whilst I am at lectures? I wonder if they would let me just pop it in the corner, or maybe they will have a handy drawer or something it could sit in whilst I studied.
Oh, God.
14th March
11.00 a.m.
I'm going to see Big Baz and arrange my "terms." Ben wants to drive Deathtrap Cooper into Putney. I'm not sure why this is, but now we have been officially together for all of six days he is assuming the main driving responsibility within the relationship. It’s a man thing. They must drive the car at all times. “Me man. Must drive moving vehicle, even if I don’t know where I am going.”
I tried to put up a fight. Just because I am in a relationship does not mean that I woke up with sex-induced amnesia and forgot how to drive. In the end I gave up, called the insurance company, and put him on the policy.
Ben is going to wait in the pub whilst I go to the shop. I’m worried about letting him in the shop in case I end up buying another crazy-priced guitar. He assured me this would not happen as he would play the Gibson until the day he died and then he would expect his son to play it. The blues flicked over me when he said this, but I just ignored the jab and laughed it off, saying I was offended that he was not going to be buried with it, as it was a gift from me.
Later.
I have the best boss in the world. It is official.
As I enter the shop, I spy Big Baz defying the laws of geometry with his rather wide arse squished behind the counter.
“Ah, Delilah! You are right on time.” He glances up at me, his expression instantly changing. “What’s wrong, lovey?” He asks.
No, I can’t! This poor man has already heard one pathetic sob story from me. I can’t make him sit through another one, can I?
Turns out I can.
“What am I going to do if I’m pregnant?” I tell him the woeful tale then sob at the end, dabbing my eyes with one of his tissues set conveniently out on the counter. For as immense as he is, he moves surprisingly fast and in a flash he is up at my side with a chunky arm around me.
“Well, you know, love, I watched you two the other evening out at dinner, and I believe you are far more solid than you think. If that was you two being friends then you have no worries now that you are together.”
“But what about him going to America?”
“Well, let him decide. Let him go, let him stay. Nothing is forever, is it? He could go and be back within the year. People have relationships, especially in the music business, where they simply can't be together all the time, even if they want to be. It's just the way the cookie crumbles,” he says in his deep and soothing voice.
I do not think I have ever heard him say so much.
“Ben is a good guy, and he loves you.”
I look at him. “How do you know?”
“Believe me, I just do.” He smiles and takes a deep breath. “Right then, love. Nine pound fifty an hour. Any hours you like and you can get as fat as you like back here," he says waving behind the counter. “There’s plenty of space.”
I give him a massive hug. “Thank you, Baz,” I say, welling up again.
“I have six daughters, you know.”
No, I didn’t. “Have you got room for one more?” I ask hopefully.
“Do you know what, Lilah? I think I do.”
He gives me a bear hug, and I leave the shop with a big smile on my face as I head out to find Ben, who has settled in at the pub.
“I need a drink!” I announce as I walk towards him.
“Do you think that is a good idea?” he asks, hesitation clear on his face. “My sister’s always sai—”
I hold up my hand to stop his words.
“Bugger off, Ben, and get me some wine. I am a woman on the edge. I need wine and I need chips.”
He steps up to the bar like his life depends on it.
There really is no better comfort food. I think doctors should start prescribing it. Okay, they are probably not going to prescribe it to pregnant women, but I know that I am most definitely NOT one of those. So I shall stick to the forms of comfort that I know—wine and chips.
Wonderful.
15th March
Ben decides to come along on my afternoon run. It has been one week since we got back together, and it has been bliss—well, apart from the whole maybe baby thing hanging over my subconscious like a cloud. I am trying not to think about the possibility of impending motherhood.
We have been inseparable, and I love it. This is all new for both of us and it feels really good. It’s like all that pressure from before has magically evaporated. Before he would always cook for me, but I would never be sure whether we would actually sit down and eat together. There was always an element of the unknown to everyday. Now we plate up and wander through together and sit balancing our plates and although it is the most mundanely domestic thing to do together there is a feeling of comforting compatibility to
it.
Before, even though (let’s be honest) I saw him naked a lot, I would never have dreamt of walking into the shower room with him in there. That would have been crossing one line too far. Now, after waking up and procrastinating in the most enjoyable way ever, one of us peeps out of the door and gives the all clear before we dash giggling down the hallway and into the shower together.
I could kick myself for letting all that time pass at the end of last year. I know I was angry, but I should have just been strong enough to get over it.
I still can't fathom why he invited that stupid, plastic bitch up to his room, but I should have tried to have more faith in myself and to not let it destroy me.
I have explained this to him in great detail over the last few nights. He is already starting his campaign to keep us together come June, but I am resisting. If there is no baby, then there is no way I can manage to cope with us living in different countries, no matter what Big Baz says. I would rather finish on a high then end with us petering out, with only tenuous and random long-distance phone calls holding us together. I want to be able to walk away with my head held high, knowing that I gave it everything, but that we were mature enough to be able to let it go when we needed to.
A clean break would be best for everyone. I am determined that this is not going to ruin the time we have left.
I think about this as I pound around the circuit I follow in the park, letting my determination set my pace. When I make it back to the car after my jog, Ben is sitting in the front seat with his feet up on the dashboard reading a paper.
“Do you actually ever do any exercise?” I puff with my head bent down low.
“Yep,” he replies. “I have lots of sex with you.”
“Funny, Chambers! Come on, drive. I want to go home and have sex.”
16th March
Tristan and Meredith have witnessed the conversion to the flat, and they both love the changes. Meredith has not stopped gushing about it since, although she seems more excited about the parties we will be able to hold in there.
I still love it, but now I have this little voice in the back of my head saying "Will you be able to fit a cot in the corner of the bedroom?”
It is one week until Ben goes away. It is also one week until I start my career selling musical instruments that I categorically cannot play.
Tonight Sound Box is playing their last gig before their trip. Now that I am a girlfriend, it is considered acceptable that I go along and watch them set up and generally hang around like a spare part trying to keep all skinny blonde females away from my man. Only joking.
Okay, only joking a little bit.
The Gig
I am standing at the bar ogling Ben, who looks mighty fine in a favourite combination of mine: a pale blue button-up shirt and dark jeans. He's on stage doing a sound check when Liam, their manager, comes up to me.
“Hi, Lilah. How're you doing?”
“Good, thanks, Liam.”
Liam has had a lucky escape from my top-person-to-hate list, after being pegged to poll position by my father.
“So all's good with you guys now?”
I sense that the question is loaded.
“Yeah, we seem to be on track at the moment,” I say with a smile. I like very much the track we are on.
“Lilah, I hope you don't mind me being personal, but I've heard some rumours the last few days about you and Ben.”
Yeah, actually I do mind you being personal.
“Not at all Liam. What’s up?”
“Is it true that you are pregnant?”
I spit my wine everywhere and then proceed to have a massive coughing fit. I can see Ben watching from the stage looking concerned.
“Um, no, that is not true and it is also none of your business.”
“Well, it kind of is my business. You see, Ben is the one who makes the band, and if he doesn't go to America, then none of them do.”
Oh! Kick me whilst I am down, why don’t you?
“Not to worry, Liam. Ben will still be going, so you can rest assured that you will earn your money out of them.”
He glares at me and I glare right back.
“I don’t give a shit about the money, Lilah. I have been with these guys for years. They deserve this break.”
I count to five before swallowing my anger. It’s acidic and burns on the way down.
“I know, Liam.” I put a hand on his arm and continue. “I know. I'm sorry. It's okay. He’ll still be going. We both know that this is ending.” I gesture to Ben on the stage and to myself.
“I'm sorry too, Lilah. I really like you. It’s just that he would be crazy not to go.”
“I know! That is why I am making him go, even though it is killing me.”
He eyes me speculatively. “He should have jumped off the stage and chased after you the first time he saw you, instead of letting you leave with that slime bag that was all over you.”
I stare at him.
“You were there that night?” I ask, feeling astounded and not disguising it very well. Ben never talks about the first time he saw me. I think he finds it embarrassing.
“Yes, I don’t know why he has never told you. I think he thinks it’s a funny little secret of his that you can’t remember your first conversation but he can.” Liam laughs a little.
What!
“I never spoke to Ben before the Fresher’s Ball,” I start but he holds his hand up.
“Yeah, you did, and I’m glad for it. He’d been threatening to leave the band, then the gig came up for the bank’s Christmas party. It was very lucrative, so he agreed to play it when Dave begged him. He spoke to you and then saw you in the crowd and started obsessing about you straight away. That night he told me that he was not going to leave Sound Box because he was determined to find you again and playing with the band was the best way to do that.”
I stand there open mouthed. Now this I did not know. Holy shit!
Then it hits me. This is what Tristan was describing to me back in January. That I was sleep walking around, but to such an extent I couldn’t even see the man of my dreams standing in front of me. But he saw me, though. Ben saw me, and wanted me.
Liam grins into his something and orange juice. “You should see your face,” he says, but I don’t really pay any attention.
I just start to walk towards the stage. Ben watches me approach with growing trepidation on his face. I know he thinks Liam has said something to upset me. I step up the stairs two at a time and reach him in the middle of the stage, where I throw my arms around him and pull him towards me as tight as I can. Our lips come together, and despite our location on the front of the stage and the crowd of onlookers, we meet in a hungry kiss, our bodies melting together inch by inch.
Eventually he pulls away, dancing blues staring at me. “What was that for?”
“Because I love you.”
I watch as he takes this in.
“What?” he asks.
“I. Love. You.”
I grin at him and then lower myself off the stage to the applause of our little audience.
Sound Box rocks again, and I am the proudest woman in the world.
Beth has come to a gig for the first time. Halfway through the set she trips along and puts an arm around me. “I didn’t get it before, but I do now. He is pretty hot, and I am not even that way inclined.”
I laugh and give her a squeeze. “Don’t you remember him from the Fresher’s Ball?”
“Nah, I was way too hammered.”
I laugh at her, as she moves off to dance. I suspect she might be a bit hammered tonight as well.
Yep, Ben is pretty damn hot, and he is all mine for the time being. I am the cat that got the canary. Not just a canary, I am the cat that go
t the canary and rolled it in whipping cream.
“So why do you love me?” Ben asks as he nibbles along my ear and jaw, making me squirm and not at all in a bad way.
“Because it’s as easy as breathing and feels like the most natural thing in the world.”
In return, he kisses me properly. “I always knew, you know. That’s why I could not believe that this would not happen between us. The connection was too strong. I have never felt this way before.”
“You heard me tell Beth, didn’t you?”
He giggles.
God, I love his giggle.
“Yep, she knew I was there. I came home when you were at the bar buying drinks. She winked at me as I walked through. At first I did not understand, but then I heard you come back and the clink of bottles, so I sat there listening, knowing that she was going to lead you into a confession of some sort.”
“Shit! I was set up.” I can’t summon the enthusiasm to be really angry.
“Yep. I just sat there and shamelessly listened at the door. I nearly came barging in when I heard you tell her, but I knew you were not ready, so I waited.”
“You know, it doesn’t change anything, don’t you? You are still going.”
“Yeah, I know, but at least I can leave knowing that this was all real.”
I snuggle up against him, laying my leg over his.
“I love you, Ben Chambers.”
“I love you, Lilah McCannon.”
17th March
Period Watch: Nothing to report
Last night I went to sleep to the feel of Ben’s fingers tracing patterns on my tummy.
18th March
Period watch: Nothing.
19th March
4.00 p.m.
Tristan and I have been all grown-up and gone to the bank to arrange our mortgage. The mortgage adviser asked something completely derogatory along the lines of "Were we sure of the financial commitment we were making together?" If I put all my money in to the property, then I am effectively stuck. The same is true with him agreeing to pay the mortgage, not that the mortgage will be that big. The deposit is nearly half of the overall property. The house will be 50/50 owned.
