You're the One That I Want (28 page)

Ben stayed on our sofa for a week following his split from Alice. He left it a few days before heading back to Peaswood to tell June there wasn’t going to be a wedding. Robert went along with him for moral support. Unsurprisingly she took it well, praised him for realizing something wasn’t right and bravely acting on that rather than just going along with it because he was too scared to hurt Alice’s feelings. He’d been anxious before seeing her, but once he had he seemed a little happier, as though he was ready to start moving forward.

Towards the end of his stay at ours, we were having dinner (I’d made us a Mexican feast) when Ben’s future was brought up for discussion.

‘So, any more thoughts, Ben? What’s next?’ asked Robert, before stuffing a taco into his mouth, taking care not to lose any of its filling. There was no tidy way of eating the dish – it was the only one he could eat like a slob and not have me moaning at him for it.

Ben sighed at the question, put down the taco he was eating and wiped his mouth with the side of his hand.

‘Now there’s a question,’ he smiled.

‘There’s no rush for you to leave here!’ I explained, not wanting him to think we were hinting that he’d overstayed
his welcome. Robert and I had agreed that he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted, knowing he’d do the same for either of us if ever needed.

‘That’s lovely of you both, but, actually, I do have a plan.’

‘Oh, really? Do share.’

‘I’ve decided I’m going to go away for a bit.’

‘Great idea, a holiday would do you the world of good,’ Robert nodded, slapping him on the back in encouragement before turning his attention back to the food on his plate.

‘Not quite a holiday, mate. I’m going to be away longer than that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m going to go travelling.’

‘As in backpacking?’ I squeaked in surprise.

‘Ha, yes.’

‘But why?’ asked Robert, a frown forming as he looked back up at him.

‘Why not? You said it yourself, some time away will do me good.’

‘I meant a week in Tenerife, or somewhere slutty like Magaluf.’

‘How long will you be gone for?’

‘I don’t know. A year, two years, maybe.’

‘Two years? What? Why that long?’ demanded Robert, unable to hide the disappointment of losing his friend for that long.

‘Because there’s a whole world to see.’

‘And you want to go on your own?’ I asked, trying to ask a few sensible questions seeing as Robert was working himself up into some sort of hysteria.

‘It’ll be good for me,’ he shrugged. ‘Do a bit of soul searching.’

‘Soul searching? Ben, what’s really going on? You suddenly got engaged, then broke it off and dumped the loveliest girl you’ve ever met for no apparent reason and now you’re going off? Leaving us? Why?’

‘Robert,’ I warned, worried that he was being too hard on Ben after everything he’d been through.

‘No, Maddy, I mean it,’ he said gruffly. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I need a change. Things weren’t right with Alice, even though, yes – thank you for pointing it out – she was great,’ he sighed, casually picking up another taco from the table and filling it with sauce, as though he hadn’t just dropped a massive bombshell on his two best friends and told us he was about to move thousands of miles away.

Robert looked at him as though he’d gone mad. I must admit that even I found the whole thing to be a rather dramatic way of getting over whatever had happened between him and Alice, but it wasn’t for us to dictate what he did or where he went. We were only meant to be there for him – something that Robert, in his shock, had forgotten.

‘I’m going to say this, and I don’t want you to freak out on me,’ Robert said slowly, looking concerned. ‘Is it because of your dad?’

‘What?’

‘Are you worried that you’re like him? That you’d wake up one day and decide to leave?’ he asked, his hands to the heavens as he looked at Ben imploringly. ‘Because you’re so far from ever being the coward he was. You’re flipping amazing, Ben. You’ve got nothing to worry about.’

‘Thanks for the text-book analogy. But that’s really not it. I know I’m nothing like him,’ he assured him, his spirits luckily not dampened by his words. ‘This is something I’ve always thought about doing at some point, I just wasn’t sure when.’

‘You never told me,’ Robert shrugged.

‘Because I was in a relationship and I guess it seemed like an unrealistic thing to do. After finishing things, it dawned on me that if I don’t do it now then I never will.’

‘You can’t just up and leave, you’ve got a good thing going here.’

‘Have I?’ he questioned, pulling Robert up on his words.

‘Yes, with work. Think about all the contacts you’ve worked hard to make.’

‘True, but I’m also twenty-four and still acting like a student.’

‘You’re an artist,’ Robert declared passionately. ‘Aren’t you meant to be all floppy-haired, wearing baggy clothes and eating Pot Noodles?’

‘Thanks. You’re forgetting that, right now, I’m also homeless.’

‘You can just stay here,’ Robert pleaded, his arms waving in the air at the space around us.

‘No, I can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it wouldn’t be fair. Besides, it’s something I really want to do,’ he insisted.

‘When are you thinking of going?’ I asked, interrupting them, having sat quietly listening to Ben continuously rebuke Robert’s attempts at changing his mind for long
enough. His rough approach wasn’t working. Ben was set on his plan to travel; there was no way his decision was going to be swayed.

‘Soon. In a few weeks. I’ve got to finish some bits on the film I’m working on and then I’ll set off.’

‘Can you even afford it?’

‘Rob, I’m flattered that you want me to stay, but cool it. I’m going,’ he said gently, leaning over and laying a hand on his arm. ‘And don’t worry – I plan on meeting up with a few friends for some of it, seeing what work they can throw my way to make ends meet.’

‘You’ve really thought about it?’ Robert asked sadly, sighing as he started to accept Ben’s plans.

‘I have.’

‘I’m really going to miss you, mate,’ he whispered glumly.

‘You too.’

It was rare to see the boys get emotional with each other like that. I just sat there and let the moment happen, touched by its potency.

Robert went up to bed soon after dinner – the joy of having to get up at six o’clock each morning meant he was always left shattered by ten at night. Having Ben there meant he tried to fight it for as long as possible, but that night, in the end, when he could hardly keep his eyes open any longer, he’d been forced to cave in and retire off to our bedroom.

Ben and I were left to tidy up the dirty plates, saucepans and everything else I’d bashed around and used while making dinner that evening. Unfortunately, we
didn’t have the luxury of owning a dishwasher, which meant having to do the lot by hand.

‘Are you honestly okay, Ben?’ I asked, as we stood side by side at the kitchen sink, him washing, me drying.

‘Yeah …’ he sighed.

‘Really?’ I pushed, putting down the cream tea towel I’d been using and turning to look at him, scrutinizing his face for any flickers of betraying emotion. ‘Because it’s okay to say, if you’re not.’

‘Well, I’m not the best I’ve ever been. But I’ll be fine,’ he smiled sadly, bowing his head as he distracted himself with the washing up, tackling the big silver saucepan I’d cooked the chilli con carne in with a scouring pad, trying to remove all the black burnt bits from its edges.

‘Your plans sound fun.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Not what I thought you’d be doing.’

‘Me neither. Especially not at my age.’

‘It’s like a delayed gap year.’

‘Yes,’ he laughed. ‘But I’m hoping my days will be filled with more enlightenment than parties and cheap shots.’

‘Enlightenment?’

‘Well,’ he shrugged. ‘I want to explore what’s out there.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘South America first, for six months or so – tour around Ecuador, Brazil, Argentina, Peru, anywhere and everywhere. There are places you can go that do crash courses in Spanish. They’ll probably be useful, seeing as I’ll be on my own.’

‘Let’s hope you pick it up quicker than you did French.’

‘Oi!’

‘I’m joking,’ I cackled.

‘I’m pretty sure I was the only one of us three who could order a bottle of water over in Paris.’

‘If that was the extent of your French after studying it for five years, I’ll stick to my earlier statement,’ I mocked.

‘You cheeky monkey,’ he simpered, holding up a wet hand and flicking me with the water dripping from his fingertips.

‘Have you heard from Alice?’ I asked when I eventually stopped laughing and started drying the silver saucepan Ben had finished washing.

‘No. It’s weird. I thought I would, you know?’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I expected to get something from her – an angry text or a teary drunken phone call, but no. Nothing. She’s far too dignified for that,’ he said sorrowfully, pulling the plug out of the sink and stepping backwards to rest against the counter as the water noisily drained away. He crossed his arms over his chest and let out a sigh. ‘She must hate me.’

‘I’m sure she doesn’t.’

Even as I said it I knew I was lying. What girl wouldn’t hate the guy who’d offered to make her his wife and then decided, without any apparent reason, that it wasn’t what he wanted after all? But that wasn’t what Ben needed to hear at that particular moment.

‘Have you spoken to her?’ he asked.

‘Well, I’ve texted her a couple of times, but she’s not really said much about anything.’

It was something I wasn’t sure I should do, but I felt compelled to. I’d needed to contact her. I knew Ben was
my best friend and that it was our job to help him through their break-up, but I’d grown to like Alice. I’d wanted her to know that I was thinking of her. The thought of what she must have been feeling and going through was horrendous. Understandably she was still fairly cut up, although she’d gone to stay with her sister, so at least she wasn’t alone with her grief.

‘It’s hard knowing I’ve hurt her so much.’

‘I bet it is.’

‘I was such a jerk.’

‘What really happened?’ I asked. It was the one thing none of us had understood – even Robert.

He groaned gently and buried his head in his hands.

‘It can’t have been that bad,’ I pushed.

‘Okay,’ he said slowly, fanning his fingers over his cheeks, stretching out the skin and pulling down on his jaw, as though to relieve some of the tension that had been building up. ‘I realized I was marrying her for the wrong reasons. It wasn’t fair on her.’

‘Wrong reasons?’

‘Yeah …’ he murmured.

‘What reasons were they?’

‘I think it’s best I don’t go there.’

‘Why?’

‘Let’s just say nothing good can come of it.’

I looked up to find him staring back at me, his cheeks bright red as a worried look fell on his face.

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah …’ he sighed. ‘That old chestnut.’

Silence fell upon us as the meaning of what wasn’t said took shape. It hadn’t been what I was expecting. I’d seen
him and Alice together, the way he’d looked at her with complete admiration and wonderment – in my mind he’d clearly loved her far more than he had ever loved me. It had been blatantly obvious. Hadn’t it?

‘You know,’ he said, abruptly standing up straight and making his way to the kitchen door, clapping as he did so to emphasize the end of the conversation. ‘I’m shattered too, actually. I’d better go get some sleep. Got a busy day of planning ahead of me tomorrow.’

‘Ben?’

He stopped, swivelled on the spot and faced me.

A sadness lingered between us as we took each other in.

There was so much I could have said, but in that moment none of those unsaid words leapt from my mouth. Instead, I stood there staring at him, my mind scrambled with confusion.

‘Night, Maddy,’ he whispered. There was no hope in his voice, no longing. Just defeat.

‘Night, Ben.’

As I stood there, looking at the spot where Ben had been moments before, I was reminded of all the feelings I thought had long since disappeared. Rather than making me feel loved, they made me feel bereaved. I was standing in the kitchen of the home I shared with the man I loved, thinking of another man. I wasn’t too keen on the type of woman that made me.

I felt for Ben and hurt because he hurt, but I couldn’t allow what had passed to take hold of me. I loved Robert and the life we’d built together and I didn’t want anything to come along and ruin it. I couldn’t allow that to happen.