The Art of Keeping Faith (10 page)

“I wonder why Barbie has been checking up on him?”

“Mmm?”

“Has your brain shutdown?”

“Mmm.”

“Okay, I am going. See you after work tomorrow. Don’t forget, we are going out.”

Great.

“Mmm.”

I am battling The Green Eyed Monster and I am not sure I can keep her contained.

I need vodka to process this. Well, no. What I need is to be mature, calm and dignified whilst thinking through the developing situation. But I just need a dash of vodka before doing the above.

26th October

Midnight

“Hey, you.”

“Hello.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah of course. What have you been up to?”

“Surfing the net.”

“Uh. Right, anything else?”

“Nope.”

“Is everything okay, Lilah?”

“Yep, everything is fine.”

“Okaay.”

Silence.

“So have you been working really hard?” I ask.

“Yeah, it has been crazy, we’ve had gigs every night.”

“Yeah, where are you staying?”

“Uh. At hotels. We have been on the road the whole time.”

“Right.”

Silence.

“So where were you the other night when I called? Tristan was trying to tell me you were out with the football team, but I knew he was trying to wind me up!”

“No, I was.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“Lilah, is this not a good time.”

“Actually, Ben, it’s not. I am sorry that you have managed to find time in your busy schedule of having your photo taken with half-dressed girls, but right now is not good for me. At all.”

And then I hang up the phone.

I think I can safely say the vodka-crazed-green eyed-monster had more control over that conversation than I did.

27th October

Yesterday sucked. I hate having to chastise myself. Now I am chastising myself while suffering a severe white wine hangover.

Baz gave me the lecture to end all lectures at work. He waited until I was trapped behind the till and then blocked my only exit with his enormous girth. Once I was cornered he spouted on for half an hour that if I am going to get the hump every time I see a picture of Ben with a girl standing next to him then I may as well give in now. He also told me in no uncertain terms that I should be more worried if there were no photos of Ben with girls hanging off him, because the more girls equals how well they are doing.

Musical success, according to Baz, is graded by the following marker:

No Ho’s = total flop

Lots of Ho’s = musical success

8.00 p.m.

Baz was not my only lecturer of the day.

Meredith was waiting for me impatiently after the shop closed. “Are you deranged?”

“It’s always been a possibility, Mer,” I light a cigarette and preparing for the talk.

Meredith decides to go for full impact and waits until the whole ‘gang’ is together and we are positioned at a table in the pub that smells of old farts.

“Are you fucking deranged?” Beth shouts loudly which gets a glare from the landlord.

Play dumb.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

The three of them stare at me unblinkingly. I am the weaker of our group and cave after thirty seconds of ‘know-it-all’ stares.

“Okay, okay.” Sighing I sit on a stool and slide the wine cooler toward me.

“Well?” Beth demands. Jeez, who wound her up?

“What?”

“Well, what is your problem, Lilah? You are one of my best friends, but sometimes you can be a complete bitch.”

Pardon?

“What?!”

“Poor Ben, he is trying to make a living so you guys can have a great life together and you are giving him shit long distance down the phone.”

The others sit and nod their heads in agreement.

“Come on, Lilah. You know he hates all that shit. Have you ever met a guy more uncomfortable with female attention than Ben?”

Well, no.

I don’t get a chance to answer.

“You always knew he was going to get papped. It does not mean anything. It’s just a job.”

“Job with perks,” I mutter, but my heart is not really in it.

“And anyway,” Meredith interrupts, “You’ve been out drinking with Richard and jogging with him, and you have not even told Ben. Just be grateful you have not got anyone taking photos of you!” Meredith’s lips start to curve into a hint of a smile.

The thought of anyone lurking behind bushes waiting to entrap me with a camera is clearly funny. We look at each other and start to laugh. I can see it now, men in trench coats hiding behind the neat privet hedges of Barnes waiting to see who my jogging partner is.

“I just miss him,” I say through my laughter, which quickly turns to tears.

The three of them place their hands over mine.

“We know.”

“I did not expect him to go again.”

“We know.”

“I’ve been a dick.”

“We know.”

“I need to go and make a call.”

“We know.”

I walk out the door into the courtyard garden where Ben and I had our first get-to-know you conversation. Our table is free so I walk over there lighting a cigarette and press his number on my phone. I am breaking all our phone rules but I don’t think it matters in the circumstances. I am so desperate to hear his voice I could explode.

Three rings later Ben answers. “Lilah?”

“Hey,”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” I take a deep drag of my cigarette. “Listen Ben, I am sorry about last night. I was being a complete dick. You know, Barbie was winding me up, and then I saw the photos and it made me think bad stuff.”

Oh, it really did.

“Lilah, it’s okay. I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Well yeah, I would be pretty pissed if I saw you in photos surrounded by loads of guys.”

“Well that’s not going to happen, is it?!”

“I don’t know, I guess it might!” Ben chuckles a little.

“Nah. I wouldn’t think so.”

“I hope not.”

“So what were the girls like anyway?”

“I have no idea, I couldn’t make out a word they were saying.” He giggles and my stomach gives a squeeze.

“I miss you, Ben. I am trying to be mature and calm, but I guess deep down I am disappointed.”

“Disappointed by what?”

I can hear him light a cigarette of his own.

“Well I guess when you came back I figured that was it forever. Then when you left again it came as a hard blow. I know I was being naive, but I just really wanted to, well, you know, be with you.”

He exhales a deep breath of air. “Lilah,” his voice is low, “Lilah, I so want to be with you, too. I was happy being home with you, but over the summer I saw a glimpse of what I could give you.”

“I know,” I say.

But I don’t. I can think of nothing that he can give me by being thousands of miles away.

I just want Ben. I want him to wake up with me every day. I want for our dirty washing to be intermingled on the floor and I want for him to hide socks from me so he can see me naked until I am sixty and wrinkly.

“I am going to be back in a few weeks and then we can sort things better without it being such a rush.”

“What do you mean sort things?” my voice rises slightly but then I register what else he said. “What do you mean home in a few weeks?” my voice rises even higher but with excitement this time.

He chuckles down the line. “I’m planning on visiting Kit for your birthday is that okay? I feel I should, what with our shared parenting rights.”

Oh, my God.

“That’s the best news I have heard in ages,” I shout which gets me strange looks from the other smokers in the garden. “I am sure Kit will be relieved to see his sensible parent.”

Ben snorts this time and I feel like my heart will explode with happiness. Ben is coming home in just a few weeks. Ben is coming home for my birthday just because he loves me. Well that and the fact he wants to check I have not killed our cat.

“I’m glad you are pleased,” he tells me, his voice a fraction lower. I would sit in this pub garden and talk to him all night but I know I can’t.

“Okay, I’d better go. This call is probably costing a fortune, and my wine is getting warm!”

He chuckles down the line again.

“I love you, Lilah, and I am thinking about you all the time.”

“What you doing now?”

Yes, I know I am supposed to be hanging up.

“Well, I am supposed to be on stage doing a sound check.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Any new songs?”

“Plenty.”

“Any about me?”

“All of them …”

Silence
—good silence.

”I’d better let you go and do your sound check.”

“Yeah, I guess. I will call tomorrow on the landline. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Lilah.”

“Bye, Ben.”

It’s only after we have hung up that I realise I have forgotten to tell him that I love him. What a bitch.

I send a quick text just to make sure he knows.

I have not even got my phone back in my pocket when it beeps.

Ben:
I know. xx

I walk back into the pub and over to the girls at the table.

“HE IS COMING HOME FOR MY BIRTHDAY,” I screech full volume.

“Thank God for that.” Meredith breathes an exaggerated sigh of relief.

“Let’s get shit faced,” I announce.

“Thank fuck for that,” Beth agrees, slamming her empty glass on the table.

“More drinks, fine bartender,” she shouts across the pub.

Bloody hell we are going to get barred. Again.

29th October

I have found out a startling fact—the library has a computer suite. Now this I did not know. I am so excited I’ve had to text Ben to tell him.

Ben:
Seriously, Lilah?? What were you doing last year? x

Me:
Stalking you. x

Ben:
Why are you at the library? It’s nearly bedtime! Are you sick again?

Very funny.

Me:
I am a very important academic person and am most at home when surrounded by books in the library

Ben:
Sure. Love you Lilah. I’ll call you later. x

The truth is I don’t really want to go home—so instead I am in the library like Billy no-mates. There was a bit of a scene over the weekend, of which I am completely innocent of creating.

On Sunday, mum and dad unexpectedly turned up. Well, I was not expecting them, but I guess Meredith and Tristan may have been. I hid in my bedroom nursing my white wine headache and pretending to look at my history books, which I wasn’t. I was sitting there on my bed listening to all their grown up conversation as they planned Meredith’s wedding to Tristan. It’s still two years away but Mum is determined to start planning early.

Mum’s in her element, and I was a little concerned that Meredith may not survive the experience. I would have come out and joined in, but all I could hear was Mum making reference to sodding John’s wedding.

“Well, Dharling,” she says to Meredith. That’s enough to piss me of; that’s what she calls me. “Annabelle is so up to date with her ideas, you should really meet her for a coffee one day so she can tell you exactly what you should be doing. Their wedding is going to be an extravaganza of sophistication.”

Is there such a thing? I think not.

I would have got up to save Meredith as clearly Tristan was not going to step in any time soon, but I was too distracted by the name Annabelle. It was ringing a serious bell.

Who the fuck is Annabelle?

Then it hit me. I was up off my bed and in the lounge in under five seconds.

“Is John marrying that tit of a work experience girl?” I demanded. Anabelle was the little do-gooder I was working with last year when I decided to ditch it all in and never return to the bank from my epic cigarette break.

Mum looked up from her gin and tonic and arched an eyebrow. Dad looked rather embarrassed.

“Well after you left the bank last year I gave your job to Annabelle and she and John hit it off straight away. It was always quite clear that they were a good match, but he did not want to upset you by breaking up with you when you were alone at University. I think he just ignored his feelings for Annabelle until a suitable moment,” Dad explained.

“What?” I screeched. “So for all those months that I was trying to build up the courage to dump him, he wanted to be with someone else anyway?”

“Well, yes I would probably guess so.”

“Mother fucker!”

Meredith started to giggle.

“Delilah, mind your language,” Mum warned, draining her glass and holding it out for Tristan to refill like the Queen of frickin’ England.

“What about the tears over the Chinese? What about you telling me I had broken his heart?” I rounded on her, my blood boiling in a dangerous way. I was going to explode or I was going to cry.

“Oh, Delilah, do calm down. You are so dramatic all of the time. It all worked out for the best, didn’t it?”

“Well, yes. But it would have been much easier if I had known from the beginning. I would have never gotten in such a mess. I can’t believe you did not tell me.”

Mum waved her glass at me in a dismissive manner, which nearly sent me over the edge.