Virtually Perfect (20 page)

'We all have a history,' she heard Ben say.  'That's what makes us who we are.'

'You know, my sister was married at 21,' Eve told him, tossing the hairpins onto the coffee table.  'Big hotshot property lawyer.  Bit of a berk to be honest, but I do envy her.'

'What?' scoffed Ben.  'For marrying a berk?' 

Eve smiled, tugging the last pin free.

'I think it's easier when you're young,' she said, shaking her curls free, running her fingers through them.  'It isn't so difficult to adapt.  You don't have as much baggage.'

He reached forward and grabbed the Champagne bottle, refilling their glasses.  Eve took hers from him, drinking thirstily, her mouth parched from the kebab.  He tugged a cushion from behind him, lying it on the armrest, patting it.  She lay back in his lap. 

The weight of her updo had lifted from her scalp.  She could feel the warmth of him through his dressing gown.  It was open to his waist.  She gazed at his tanned stomach, the pinched skin, the ladder of hair.  She tried to stifle a yawn.

'...I don't want to hear about you having sex with other women,' she told him groggily.  'I will get jealous.  I can guarantee it.'

Ben smiled.  He liked that. 

'Alright,' said Ben.  'If you're worried about baggage, let's just go through it together.  See what we can get rid of.'

Eve just looked at him.

'...I'll tell you one bad thing about my ex, you tell me one about yours.'

She sipped her Champagne.  She felt too woozy to argue.  She lay back and closed her eyes.

'He only wanted me for my money,' she said drowsily.  '...They all tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen.'

She tried to look up at him, but she was too tired to focus, her eyelids heavy, drawing down on her.  Her glass was on a skew, Ben took it from her before she spilt it, putting them both on the coffee table. 

He took her hand, kissing her fingers.  He could see she was in the abyss between consciousness and sleep, her eyes flickering under the lids.  She was probably already dreaming.

'...I caught her in bed with my best friend,' he murmured. 

Eve's dream had begun.  She was back at the opera again.  Ben was sitting next to her in his smart suit.  When he turned his face to her, Eve found half of it covered.  He was wearing a phantom mask. 

It took a full minute before the words filtered through.  Her eyelids slowly opened.  She looked up at him.  Ben shrugged back.  It took everything she had to haul herself up.  She wrapped her arms around his neck.  He buried his face in her hair.  One arm slid across her back, pulling her to him, the other under the crook of her knees.

'...That's enough for tonight,' he said gently, lifting her up, carrying her to bed.  'Enough.'

Eve's eyes fluttered open, her cheek resting on Ben's warm chest, his heartbeat thudding in her ear.  She saw the ripped condom wrapper on the bedside table.  She smiled.  She hadn't dreamt it. 

They lay there beneath the feather duvet, clammy, arms and legs entwined.  Eve peered up at him.  He was fast asleep, mouth slightly ajar, breathing loudly through it.  A swathe of bronze stubble glistened on his jaw, meandering down his neck.  Eve's eyes drifted up to the dent of his chin, the plump, pink lips, the perfectly straight nose.   Along the pinched cheekbones, the glossy lashes, his dark, arching brows.  His hair was ruffled, all over the place, bathed in a gold from the morning sun.  Eve closed her eyes, breathing his smell, her smile widening.  Her arms tightened around him.

Ben awoke to a strange sensation.  Warm wet sandpaper flicking his ear.  He opened up his eyes to find bright green eyes staring back.  Mr Bojangles was nestled on the pillow beside him. 

Bo gave a loud chirrup and meow, promptly bashing his head against Ben's.  Eve stirred, then went on snoring.  Ben looked down at her, curled up in the foetal position, her face on his bare stomach, legs interwoven with his. 

Mr Bojangles, unperturbed, meowed louder still.  Ben quietly shushed him, ruffling his tortoiseshell fur.  Bo climbed up on Ben's chest, poddling him, purring noisily.  Ben was glad she'd clipped his claws but it still hurt, driving down like thorns with every push of his paws.  He felt like a dead weight on Ben's chest.  It was difficult to breathe. 

Bo lifted his tail, sticking his fluffy white bum in Ben's face. 
Chocolate starfish?  Oh no...  that's not right! 
Bo was getting no joy from Ben, so he decided to try Eve instead, bashing his forehead against hers like a battering ram.  She groaned, throwing out her arms, stretching.  She stroked Bo.  She looked up at Ben and smiled.

'Good morning,' he said, smiling at her.  'I think he might need feeding.'

Ben stroked her face.  Eve held his fingers, glancing at his watch.

'...Shit!  It's 10 o'clock!'

She sat up quickly, blearily rubbing her eyes.  Bo began stalking her toes through the duvet.

'Is there somewhere you have to be?'

'Check out is 10.30...' she said, groaning, throwing back the covers. 

She felt a hand on her shoulder, Ben pulling her back down.

'I'd rather not,' she heard him say.  'If it's OK with you, I'd quite like to stay here today.'

Eve surrendered and lay back in the soft, warm bed.  She nodded up at him.  It was more than OK. 

Ben hopped up to go and ring room service, butt naked, Bo scampering after him.  He felt Eve's eyes following him out of the room.  He came back with a grin, closing the door, shutting Bo on the other side.  He jumped onto the bed, plastering Eve in a hundred bristly kisses.  Eve soon dropped her protest and started kissing him back. 

Eve lay in bed sipping her orange juice.  She needed to brush her teeth.  Orange juice, smoked salmon and scrambled eggs.  It tasted funky.  She must have smelt horrendous.

'Would you like some coffee?' Ben asked.

'Why not,' she shrugged back at him. 

She started tucking into the fruit salad, spoon-feeding a plump strawberry to Ben.  He set his tray down on the floor and lay there quietly sipping his coffee.

'Is that why you fell out with your dad then?  ...Because of your ex?' 

Eve's spoon tinkled down in the bowl.  She turned to him.  It was brave.  Perhaps stupid, judging by her expression. 

'...Sorry, I—'

'No, it's OK,' she said breezily.  Then she got out of bed.  She picked up the tray and sashayed out to the sitting room, stark naked.  Ben heard it clatter on the table.  She reappeared with her cup and saucer, sliding under the duvet, lying back on the pillows with him. 

She sipped her coffee, pinkie jutting out. 

'...You're really fucking smart, you know that?' 

Ben turned to her, wide eyed.  She gave him a wry smile, looking up over the coffee cup. 

'You don't miss a trick.'

'Sorry, it's none of my business.'

'...Isn't it?'

'Not if you don't want to tell me.'

'No, it's alright,' she said.  'I did say I would explain...  I'm not sure anymore why I made such a big deal of it.  There really isn't that much to tell.  Dad told me Dan was a bum, I was too stubborn to listen, we fell out.  That's really pretty much it.'

'...Was he?'

'Was he what?'

'A bum?' said Ben.

'Pretty much,' Eve nodded.  '...Worse than that, actually.'

'And now you're too stubborn to admit you were wrong?'

'...Smartass,' said Eve quietly, fixing his stare.  She shrugged it off.  '...There's a lot stuff really.  It wasn't just about that.  After Mum died, I said some terrible things -
did
some terrible things...  I keep thinking lately I should call him, but I'm not really sure what to say.  I don't think he's going to want to talk to me.  I think I've left it too long.'

'Bullshit,' said Ben.  '...Don't look at me like that.'

He watched Eve wither a little.

'You know that's a crappy excuse.  I never had you down as a coward.'

'I'll ring him, but in my own time,' she said obstinately, setting her cup and saucer down on the bedside table with a clatter. 

She slid down in the bed, pulling the duvet over her shoulders, turning her back on him.

'Right, that's it!' he said, clunking down his own cup.  'I'm not having this!  Don't you dare have a paddy on me!' 

Eve was startled.  His voice boomed around the room.  He yanked back the covers, grabbing her wrist, rolling her over.  Her eyes were screwed tight shut.  He gently tweaked her nose.  He saw the flinch, watched her eyes blink open, saw her smile with relief.  He stared at her for a moment, then leant in to kiss her.

'No!' she said agitatedly, pulling her head back, covering her mouth.  'I stink!'

'...I think we both must stink by now, principessa.'

Eve watched Ben raise an arm.  He lowered his nose to the pit, the dark fluffy tuft, taking a deep breath. 

'Yup.  I think that settles it.' 

He sniffed the air. 

'This place is starting to smell like a brothel, you know...  You should have seen the porter's face when he delivered the breakfast.' 

Eve's eyes widened in horror.  Ben laughed to himself. 

'This is too easy.' 

He stole a kiss anyway.

Ben grabbed the remote from the bedside table and started flicking through the channels.

'You watch a lot of TV,' said Eve, disapprovingly. 

Ben shrugged.

'Habit, I suppose.  I don't like the flat when it's quiet.  I like to have something on in the background.'  His eyes flicked to Eve.  '...I can turn it off if you like.'

'No.  It's fine.  Don't worry.'

Ben paused when he saw a young Michael Palin sitting across the table from a bald, bespectacled Liverpudlian.  He distinctly heard the word
Jeddah
.  They switched to a shot of Palin jogging past street art: five brightly-coloured old Volvos jutting out of a cube of cement, a bronze bicycle ten metres tall, reaching up to a cloudless blue sky. 

'I'll be there, this time tomorrow.'

'...Where?'

'The Kingdom,' Ben said ominously.  'Saudi Arabia.'

Eve stared at him.

'It's dry there you know.'

'Of course it is!' Ben said haughtily.  'It's the desert!'

Eve grinned and rolled her eyes.

'I mean no alcohol...'

'Oh,' said Ben, with an embarrassed smile.  'Yes, I think Charles mentioned something about that.  He's set me up with a fixer...  Don't worry.  I'll be good, I promise.'

She stared at him.

It isn't you I'm worried about...
 

His gaze settled back on her: bright aqua eyes circled with ink. 

'...I wish you could come with me.'

She smiled at him.

'I don't think you're allowed girlfriends in Saudi,' she said, pursing her lips and shaking her head.

'...Have you been to the Middle East?'

Eve's head shook again.

'I thought you had family out there?'

'Not anymore,' Eve told him, lifting her eyes to his.  'I think Grandpa's family left years ago.  What was left of them.'

Eve had a hazy recollection of her Grandpa - a short guy, with slick hair and a floppy moustache.  His hair was unnaturally black.  He used Just For Men.  He wore Savile Row suits and a fedora hat.  He lived in Islington.  He liked snuff.  Eve used to watch him daubing into his nostrils, sneezing incessantly - it always made her laugh.  Whenever he opened up the sideboard to get the dominos out, the smell of it filled up the room. 

He used to bounce Eve on his belly.  One day she asked him, but he said no, he had tummy ache.  He had pancreatic cancer.  Two weeks later, he was dead.

'Which side was he on?' asked Ben.

'He was from the South-Eastern quarter, near Jericho Gate.'

'No, I mean which side of the family?'

'Oh!' Eve smiled back at him.  'Mum's.  I don't remember him so well, I was only little when he died.  I never got to meet my grandma.'

'...Was he Muslim?'

Ben hadn't really thought about it before.  He watched her brow gather, a smile creasing her lips.

'Do you think he would have let my mum marry an Irish Catholic if he was?'

'...Jewish?'

Eve tutted at him.

'There is a third option, you know...  When you see it on the news, I know it's all Jews and Muslims, but there are a lot of Christians too.  A lot less than there were, but even so...'

'...I thought you said you were an Arab?' said Ben.

He sounded accusing, almost disappointed.

'I am!' Eve told him.  '...Well, a little bit.  You can be an Arab
and
a Christian you know.'

He peered down at her.