Authors: Lindy Dale
Tags: #romance, #coming of age, #sex, #true love, #womens fiction, #chicklit, #romance novel, #romance fiction, #womens ficton, #womens fiction chicklit
I watched his face,
registering and storing the information. I stood tall. “Nice to
meet you Dean. Where’d you learn to dance like that? It’s rather
impressive.”
“
At school.”
“
What school did you go
to?” I asked.
“
Scotch.”
I waited for him to say
something else but his eyes were trained somewhere over my
shoulder. “Well, um, it’s been very nice talking to you. If you’ll
excuse me…”
“
Maybe we could have a
dance later?” he asked, smiling a large friendly smile that was
deeply sexy and threw me into complete confusion. His voice sounded
nervous. I couldn’t believe he’d spoken a whole
sentence.
“
Mmm. That’d be nice; I’ll
find you, shall I?”
“
Okay.”
He may have been cute but
quiet boys were not what I needed. What I needed was another
drink.
Sitting back down at the
table, I fumbled in my handbag for a cigarette. Lighting it, I
inhaled a couple of deep breaths and blew the smoke into the air.
Where had Lucy and Prue gone? They had no right to leave me
unprotected like this. Picking up my dessert fork, I stabbed it
around for a bit in my dessert, my eyes roaming the room as I
continued to suck the nicotine in. That was when I saw him.
Standing at the end of our table. Watching. Shit.
Suddenly, my hands were
clammy and trembling. The fork flung from between my fingers and
bounced onto the carpet sending a glob of cream flying to the
tablecloth. Escaping from Dean the Boring would be nothing compared
to this. If only I could crawl under the table.
“
Hi, Bella.” His voice was
low and mellow, a lilting melody ringing in my ears. I looked up
from under the tablecloth. He was still beautiful. The lights from
the stage shone a halo around his head. How ironic - the Devil
wearing a halo. He must have been, for only the Devil could look
that good. Patiently, I waited for the horns and tail to sprout
from his body. Instead, his face filled with tenderness.
Please Ben, please leave me
alone, I thought. I can’t do this anymore.
I sat up in my
chair.
“
Can I sit
down?”
No, now fuck off! I marveled
at that little voice in my head. She was such a bitch.
Not waiting for a reply, he
pulled up the empty chair beside me. He reached across and took my
hand in his. I wanted to pull my hand away, to tell him to leave,
but I couldn’t.
“
When did you start smoking
and drinking so much?” he asked.
“
I was driven to
it.”
“
I know you’re still angry
with me.”
Gee, how could he
tell?
“
I can see it in your
eyes,” he said, answering my inner question, “but I need to talk to
you, so it’s bad luck, I guess.”
I said nothing. I took a
deep drag on my cigarette and tried to appear indifferent. It was
the only way I could stay calm with him sitting so
close.
“
I wanted to say thank you
for the bus thing. You ran off so fast, you never let me thank
you.”
“
It was
nothing.”
“
You pulled me from in
front of a bus.”
“
Like I said.
Nothing.”
We looked at each other. His
blue eyes were darker than usual. His hand trembled a little as he
lifted his glass. “I didn’t cheat on you. You know I
didn’t.”
I sat silently. I did know
it. It was there, in his eyes.
If he says he wants me back,
I swear, I’ll throw my drink in his face, I thought.
“
I don’t know what else to
say.”
My hand twisted at the
tablecloth. If he says he still loves me I’m going to deck him, I
thought. Truly.
“
I love you,
Bel’.”
Great.
I looked into his eyes. They
were melting the ice block I’d built around my heart. I wanted to
tell him I still felt the same, no matter what he’d
done.
“
Well… I guess that’s all I
wanted to say,” he said.
Sitting straight as a rod, I
took another drag on my cigarette. Don’t let him see your pain;
don’t let him know it hurts to have him near. “When are you going
back to Melbourne?”
“
Tomorrow.”
It sounded so final.
Tomorrow. It was always over so suddenly, never any time to become
used to the idea.
“
Will you dance with me,
for old time’s sake?”
“
Alright.”
He took my hand, and led me
to the dance floor. The band was playing “Don’t Throw it All Away
on Love”, drawing the older guests up from their seats. The words
of the song rang in my ears, bringing tears to my eyes, like
something I’d forgotten long ago and needed to remember.
Taking me in his arms, Ben
guided me around the floor and from the corner of my eye, I could
see Prue and Lucy, their faces glowing, thinking they had performed
their job of matchmakers well. If only they’d known what it was
doing to me. A double murder wasn’t out of the question.
Content to let him lead, I
let my mind drift as I listened to the music and we floated
together around the room. I’d forgotten what a wonderful dancer he
was. I’d forgotten how good it was to touch him, to feel his warmth
and strength beneath my fingertips. Instinctively, my head fell to
its natural resting place against his chest. I breathed him in,
every inch of him. He’d always smelled so good.
Ben sighed as my body
relaxed against his. He must have sensed the change for he pulled
me closer, holding me in the circle of his embrace. His cheek came
down gently, to rest upon my head as we danced and the tears
dripped down my cheek.
“
Do you forgive
me?”
He could feel in my body. He
knew I’d forgiven him. I’d forgiven him but I could not
forget.
“
Oh Bella, I’m so sorry. I
don’t know why I keep hurting you. All I ever wanted was to love
you.”
And all I wanted was to be
loved.
Lifting my head, I examined
his face, looking into his heart, trying to read his mind. I knew
he wanted me back but I couldn’t bear to hear him say it. I felt it
too, but I couldn’t give any more. The pain inside cut too
deep.
Please don’t ask me to love
you again Ben, my eyes begged, beseeching him to release the chains
that held my heart and let me go free. I can’t do it, it’s too
hard.
It was too late. It was
over.
***
For days after, I was
consumed by an all-encompassing sense of grief, and no matter how I
tried I couldn’t shake it. Yet, somehow it seemed a relief that Ben
was gone from my life. I’d sent him away again. Now I could have
that new beginning I dreamt of. I could learn to live my
life.
“
I want to move into a
flat, Mum,” I stated over dinner a few nights later.
From underneath her
perfectly made up face, Mum looked shocked. “Why? Aren’t you happy
here at home?”
“
Of course I am, but I need
some space. If I get a place close to Uni I won’t have to use the
car and I qualify for a ‘living away from home’ allowance to
supplement my scholarship. Then there’s my job too.”
Mum put the serving spoon
slowly down on the table cloth. I’d never seen her do that ever. We
had a spoon rest for such things. She looked at me as if I had just
announced I had been accepted for the first manned landing on Mars.
“You’re serious aren’t you?”
“
Yes.”
“
How will you pay for rent
and food?” Her face was worried. She was thinking that I would
never be able to cook for myself and would live on toast and
sardines.
“
I’ve worked it out Mum;
I’ll have enough to get by. Lots of other kids do it.”
“
Yes, they do, but they
don’t have a perfectly good home ten minutes away.”
“
Please Mum?”
“
Well, alright but your
father and I will have to come and see the place first. I don’t
want you living in some hovel with drug addicts and
alcoholics.”
As I helped her clear away
the dishes, I pondered how it would be to live alone. Ben would
never find me, if he cared to look. It would be perfect.
Chapter 15
HARD TO HANDLE
Action speaks louder than
words
And I’m a man with great
experience
I know you got you another
man
But I can love you better
than him
Otis Redding
Satisfied that my new life
was going according to plan and that I hadn’t starved to death or
sold my body to pay the rent, I decided it was time for the next
phase. A new man. Enter Dean Hayward (aka groomsman at ill-fated
wedding and would be doctor) who wasn’t the type of boy I found
attractive but therein was his charm. There was nothing about him
that of reminded me of Ben. Polar opposites of the boyfriend
spectrum was what they were. Oh, he was divine and somewhere in the
dim dark recesses of my mind, I convinced myself that he was
perfect. But perfect for what?
Conversation? It took me
about a month after we began going out, to deduce that Dean’s
conversation skills hadn’t improved since the first night we’d met
at Jen’s wedding and even though I liked the sound of my own voice
some social chitchat would have been nice.
Intelligence? There was no
denying his brain cells exceeded mine ten to one and compared to
his my thoughts were about as deep as an episode of Get Smart, but
that wasn’t an excuse for his often patronising tone and
pretentious behaviour. It was a wonder we made it to the ‘two
month’ romantic dinner at all.
Sex maybe? I think not. By
the time we reached the epic ‘three month’ anniversary I’d
confirmed that sex with Dean was like making love to a sloth. The
missionary being his one and only position of choice, I got bored
and became adept at faking it just to get him off me. Even with my
limited experience of one, I knew there was meant to be more to sex
than that. Still, I continued to go out with him because he was
safe and dependable and he had a smile that would make any girl
throw herself at his feet. He just wasn’t Mr Right.
***
It was late, very late and
we were all at Coops’ house. Earlier in the evening, Dean and I had
sat on the couch for what seemed like an eternity while he’d
outlined my faults and accused me of having some sort of
psychological disorder.
“
I know what you’re up to,”
he said, “You’re using those boys as shield. You’re afraid of
intimacy.”
He wasn’t telling me
anything new.
“
Maybe we should take a
break for a while, then?”
“
No. I love you and I don’t
want to break up. It’s just, sometimes you’re so
self-centred.”
I sighed and looked
longingly around the room. Everyone was having a great time, except
me. I was being case studied. “I’m going to get another drink. Want
one?”
The stereo in the kitchen
was blaring and Justin, Coops and Phil sat at the table sharing a
joint. They paid little attention as I walked over, picked up a
bottle and poured a hefty glass. The buzz was almost instant and I
let out a satisfied sigh. If I had to listen to Dean’s ranting, I
might as well do it drunk. Dean walked up beside me, his eyes nose
wrinkling distastefully at the smell clouding the room. “I think
I’ll go home. You coming?”
“
No.”
He waited for a moment, and
then with a shrug, turned for the door.
“
Right boys,” I grinned,
“Who’s for shots?”
Pouring the drinks, I began
slinking around the table, teasingly handing them over.
“
Will you quit the
lap-dancing, Bella?” Justin said. “Can’t you see we’re trying to
get mellow?”
Coops smiled as I swung onto
his lap. “Stop it, Bella, or I might be tempted to do something I
shouldn’t.”
“
Please do, I could do with
a little fun.”
“
I don’t think so. If I
give you what you want, I’ll never get rid of you.”
“
And wouldn’t you love
it.”
Silent, he raised a dark
eyebrow and pushed me off. I didn’t care. It was only a game
anyway.
“
I’m going
outside.”
Wandering into the night, I
found a spot on the back steps, and gazed into the sooty darkness.
It was just like the night in the rotunda, except Ben wasn’t there.
He would never be there again. I was alone with nothing but my
tequila. The ache was growing inside me. I was lost and
alone.
Standing up, I stepped down
into the garden, my fingers trailing the bushes as I pondered. Why
had I sent him away? Why had he broken his promise? I could feel
the hurt churning in my stomach like it did so often then, the sick
rising in my throat. Fifteen tequilas had sounded like a super idea
when I’d only had ten, but any minute those poor pansies in the
garden were going to be swimming for their lives. Treading through
the grass, I found the garden bed next to the fence. Heaving my
guts into the garden, I put an arm out to steady myself as I began
to cry, not for the poor little flowers but for my sad new life,
the one without Ben. Even in my tequila haze, the image of his face
would not be banished. I missed him so much.