Virtually Perfect (33 page)

'Please, I...'

He span around, scowling, seething.

'GO!' he barked.  Eve physically jumped. 

His voice echoed around the room.  His face was red.  The vein in his neck was up.  His eyes were bulging.  He was livid.  She just stood there, blinking at him.

'Have you seen yourself?  You're a mess!' he hissed.  He was so full of spite.  Eve's eyes started to sting.  Her bottom lip quivered.  'I can't look at you,' he said, turning away.

Finally, she left him alone.  She shuffled off down the corridor.  He heard her shut the bathroom door, quiet as a mouse. 

Ben rested his hands on the cold stainless steel sink, closing his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

It was happening all over again.

Bo meowed loudly.  He was up on his hind legs, reaching for the work surface.  He obviously hadn't been fed.  Ben took a can from the cupboard, snatched Bo's bowl from the draining board, peeled back the lid.  She could have killed him leaving that shit lying around, what the hell was she thinking? 

He could guess. 

Ben slammed the empty can down on the side.  A lump of tuna flicked up, landing on the black sleeve of his Alexander McQueen suit.

'Fuck's sake!' he growled, flicking it off, sliding Bo's bowl down on the floor with a clatter. 

Bo peered up at him.  Ben paused.  He reached down, scratching Bo's ruff.  It wasn't the cat's fault, after all. 

Ben rinsed out the dishcloth, sniffed it for bleach, then dabbed at the mark on his jacket.   What the hell had happened to her?  It was like a different person opening up the door - the wild black eyes, last night's mascara rolling down her cheeks.  What was she on?  Speed?  Coke?  Crystal meths?  Ben knew nothing about all that chemical crap.  He'd smoked dope a couple of times at uni but never really got into it.  It just made him fall asleep.

He never would have pegged Eve as a junky, not in a million years.  She seemed so straight-laced - so together, usually.  Maybe she was telling the truth.  Maybe it really was Dan's.

Was she lying about going out with Alice last night?  He'd found the text once his phone sprang back to life, as he waded through the stream of missed calls.  Was she with him instead?  Maybe she'd been with him all week?

Ben stood in the bedroom doorway, chewing his lips, staring at the unmade bed.  The crumpled sheets, the duvet sliding down.  Had he fucked her there? 

He stalked around the bed; hesitantly wrenched back the covers.  His eyes flickered.  The sheets were still warm.  He staggered back, he could smell him, the cheap, shitty Joop.  Ben clenched his fists in his hair. 

I'm A Believer
by The Monkees blasted from the radio on the ride over.  Ben felt so happy; so alive.  He pulled up outside, skipped across the road, heart filled with... what was it?  That weird little feeling he'd been getting recently.  Was it love?  Was it hope? 

What a muppet...

He saw him, standing at her front door.  Ben's smile disintegrated in a heartbeat.  He saw her, grinning from the doorway, standing there in her dressing gown, bold as brass.  He heard the door shut, watched him pull the hoodie over that overinflated chest.  He recognised Dan immediately.

Ben stood in a daze as Dan jogged down the steps towards him.  Their gazes locked as Dan neared the bottom, rucksack slung over his shoulder.  He was built like a little brick shit house.  He had far too much hair for Ben's liking. 

'Streuth!' Dan grinned.  'So Evie settled for a suit?'  Dan nodded, thumbing his chin.  'I get it!  Now it makes sense!'

Ben's jaw clenched at the accent.  It was real.  It was definitely him. 

Dan reached the bottom.  They were on the same level.  Ben drew back his shoulders.  He looked down at Dan, eyes wandering up and down the cheap tatty clothes, the mean little mouth, the terrible skin.  He was nothing.  He was nobody.  Ben had a foot on him. 

Short Man Syndrome.  Ben deliberately stared into the space over Dan's head, a faint smile playing on his lips.  That one never failed to wind them up.  He was just aching for an excuse.

He could see Dan in his periphery, peering up with those beady dark eyes.  Ben slowly raised an eyebrow, lowering his gaze, smiling down at the little cockroach.

'Tight, ain't she?'

Dan grinned up goadingly.  Ben's smile waivered, but he managed to hold it. 

'...What?' he said quietly, eyes icing over.

'Ah, she's a little firecracker when you get her warmed up, but!'  Dan whistled up in his face. 

Ben flinched at his breath.  Ben's smile disappeared.

'...Might want to whip her round the chemist though, eh?  Get one of those magic pills...' 

That was the problem with Dan.  He never knew when to shut up. 

Any normal guy would have just walked away.  They wouldn't have trudged up the steps.  Ben felt like he'd been eviscerated - he was still in shock.  He looked down at his hands, they were shaking. 

He stood for five minutes knocking the door.  If she hadn't answered, he would have stood there all day.  Ben wasn't normal, not anymore.  He was mad.  He was madder than hell.

When she finally came, her eyes were ferocious.  Smacked off her tits, evidently.  She wasn't expecting to see Ben, that much was clear.  He saw the realisation, the panic.  The sickly smile turned his stomach. 
How could she be so fake?
  He could barely look at her. 

Rauf was right.  It was the worst pain imaginable.  But Ben had to swallow it.  He had no choice.  It was the only way he was going to win.

That was the worst thing about Lydia and Antoine.  The unfairness of it all.  Everyone else had been to hell and back, but them?  Pah.  They just skipped off into the sunset.  When Ben saw them at Court, hand-in-hand, he wasn't jealous anymore.  He was angry.  He was furious - the injustice of it all. 

This time around things were going to be different.  He wasn't letting her off the hook. 

She hid from him for a full hour.  Ben sat on the sofa with Bo, sipping his coffee.  He made himself look up at her when she finally emerged, forced a smile.

'You look beautiful.'

Eve looked down at him, those pretty aqua eyes; that pinched, sunkissed face.  She bit her lip.  It was all she could do not to cry.

She'd buried the Catwoman outfit in the bottom of her laundry basket.  She could remember unzipping herself, prising the PVC from her back as she lay sweating on the bathroom carpet.  Waking up in her underwear, shivering in the cold, looking up through the frosted window at the blue light of dawn.  She felt his hands on her, lifting her up; carrying her to the bed. 

Nothing had happened, but Ben wasn't going to believe her.  If the boot had been on the other foot, she would have kicked his arse out in a heartbeat.

Her feet clinked after him down the wrought iron steps.  She slowed near the bottom, staring down. 

Blood.

She froze, frightened eyes wandering up.  She gasped at the red handprint on the wall.  She stood there blinking up into Ben's icy stare.  She saw his lips twitch.

He snatched her hand.  He held it so tight it hurt.  He pulled her across the road; her heels scraping on the tarmac. 

He opened the car door; he pushed her inside. 

Suddenly, she remembered.

It was the clunk of the door that sparked it.  Eve's stomach turned in an icy knot. 

Eve stared at Ben as he stalked around the car.  He got in, started the engine. 
Sex Is On Fire
blasted from the stereo.
 
He smiled to himself, turned it up even louder.  Eve's eyes flickered, scanning the car.

It didn't look any different.  Nothing had changed.  There were no smells.  No errant blonde hairs.  Was she going mad?  Was she imagining it?  It did seem pretty hazy.  She had been smashed out of her tree. 

The smiles, the giggling, the touching.  It seemed surreal - like a dream. 

...Maybe that's all it was? 

Eve glanced across the street at the bloody handprint.  Her head lurched as the car sped away. 

She stared at him all the way to the church.  He could feel her black eyes crawling all over him.  Ben wouldn't look at her.  He turned up the stereo, tuning her out.

She couldn't think straight, the music was too loud.  Why was he driving so fast?  Eve glanced down at his hands gripping the wheel, the big red welt on his knuckle. 

'Ben?  ...Ben!' 

He wouldn't look at her.  He just kept smiling, eyes firmly fixed on the road.  She heard the engine rev.  He was going faster.  He was overtaking.  They were coming up to a bend.

The car screeched to a halt in the church carpark, sliding on the gravel.  Everybody was looking. 

He turned the engine off.  Eve's ears were hissing.

'...I don't want to go anymore.'

'Nonsense!' said Ben.

'No, really,' said Eve fearfully.

'We're here now.  Don't be so silly!'

He was smiling at her, but his eyes weren't smiling with him.  He reached out and stroked her cheek.  Her lashes fluttered.  She glanced down at his swollen knuckle, black eyes flicking back to him.  Eve shuddered.  Ben's smile twitched.

His thumb drifted across her bright red lips, his touch feather-light, parting them slightly.  He could feel the warmth of her breath, dewy on his skin.  He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him. 

He wanted to press harder.  Ben's thumb itched to smear that shiny lipstick across her lily white cheek. 

He closed his eyes.  His hand slumped down.  Ben undid his safety belt and got out.

'Bride or groom?' said the usher standing at the church door.  He was a young guy, with a thick head of red hair.

'Groom!' boomed a voice from behind. 

Eve span around.

'Curtis!'

She'd never been so happy to see him.

'Come here!' he said. 

He gave Eve a hug.  She was a bit taken aback - he'd never been the touchy feely sort.  He had a grin as wide as a mile. 

'Thanks for keeping Alice out of mischief last night!' 

Ben's brow crinkled.  He glanced at Eve, then the floor, smoothing his hair.  Curtis thrust out his hand. 

'You must be Ben!' he said.  'Great to meet you at last!'

'...Likewise,' said Ben, forcing a smile back, shaking Curtis's hand. 

Curtis beamed up at him.

'You must be one heck of a guy.'

Ben's smile faltered.

...Is he taking the piss?

'She never stops going on about you!'

'Curtis!' Eve hissed. 

Ben glanced down at her.  Her cheeks had turned scarlet.

'...It's been
Ben this
,
Ben that
for weeks now.  She
loved
the flowers!  ...How was Abu Dhabi?'

Ben's eyebrow crooked.  Her gaze wouldn't budge from the floor.  She was wearing his earrings.  He reached down, taking her hand.

'Saudi,' Ben corrected him, the frostiness in his voice thawing a little.  'It was...  interesting.'

Eve's eyes flicked up angrily.

Ben caught it.  His brow crinkled.  He squeezed her hand.  Her fingernails were driving into his skin. 

'Great!' grinned Curtis, oblivious, as usual.  'Can't wait to hear about it later.  Well I'm really glad you made it back in one piece.  She's been worrying herself sick!'

'I had an ear infection...' Eve frowned.

'Yeah, yeah,' Curtis grinned.  'Whatever you say!'

Ben's hand slackened.  Eve felt him looking down at her.  She stopped digging in with her nails.

They sat on the cold wooden pew, flicking through their wedding programmes, both pretending to read, both staring straight through into nothing. 

Is it me? 
Ben wondered.  It wasn't particularly smart - giving her the cold shoulder when he knew the ex was sniffing around. 

Ben peered down at the crescent shaped indentations on his hand. 

Why is she so angry with me?
 

She was crying the night he phoned her from Jeddah.  He knew it at the time.  But was it over him, or was it over Dan?  Was he there all week, or did he just show up that morning?  Why was his bag packed?  Why was he leaving?

She'd been telling the truth about going out with Alice last night.  She'd seemed guilty at the flat, but there was none of it now. 

Ben ruffled his hair, looking down at the floor.  He didn't know what to think anymore.

'I think we need to talk when we get out of here,' he whispered. 

Eve looked up at him.  Her eyes were like coal.