41
After a restless night, I wake up cranky. I should be enjoying a leisurely breakfast with Ben on his terrace then heading out somewhere fun together, not nursing the worst hangover I’ve had in as long as I can remember.
Ben, on the other hand, seems bright as a button when he calls me before I’ve even emerged from under my duvet. ‘Hey, Lils, how’s the head this morning? I’m sorry I couldn’t talk last night. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. It sounded like you had quite the session though.’
‘I’d be on the painkillers if I could only reach them,’ I confess. So far even the walk to the bathroom cabinet feels like a NASA space mission. ‘I don’t think I’m going to be doing very much today.’
‘We all need a duvet day from time to time,’ he says. ‘I’d be in there with you if I had my way.’ Which would usually bring a smile to my face, thinking about us cuddled up together, but today only reminds me that he’s hundreds of miles away.
‘What did you do with your evening?’ I ask, then instantly wish I hadn’t when he tells me he ‘ended up seeing Georgie’.
He doesn’t elaborate, as per our agreement, but it sends my mind into overdrive. What does he mean by ‘end up’? Did she suggest it? Did he? And are they already so familiar with each other that he’s started calling her Georgie?
‘I know it’s not what we said, but I think I might need you to tell me about it.’
‘There isn’t much to tell.’ I imagine him shrugging. ‘We had a drink at a place called the Alchemist. She had a couple of cocktails; I stuck to the alcohol-free beer.’
‘Was it fun?’
‘She’s easy company– funny. I think you’d like her.’
I doubt that very much. I brace myself for my next question. ‘And after the Alchemist?’
‘I dropped her home. I had the car.’ He’s in it now. I can tell from the slight echo. ‘I’ve told her I want to take things slowly after being burned in past relationships.’
Which should make me feel reassured, but instead makes me seethe. He might want me to think he’s keeping her at arm’s length, but the fact is, he didn’t have to see her last night; he chose to. When he was supposed to be with me.
‘And she actually believes that? She didn’t ask you in?’
‘Well, yeah she asked me, but that doesn’t mean...’
‘She asked,’ I interrupt, oddly triumphant, like it proves some kind of point. ‘Which means she thinks there’s a chance it’s going to happen. Which of course she would when you’re seeing her every other evening.’
‘I’m not seeing her every other evening.’ I can tell I’ve got his back up now. ‘I just found myself unexpectedly free on Saturday night and she happened to ask if I wanted to do something. I didn’t realise it would be such a big deal.’
‘Of course it’s a big deal, Ben. Can’t you see where this is going?’
‘It’s not going anywhere. I don’t know why you’re picking a fight with me.’
‘She clearly thinks it is! And I’m supposed to just sit here and be okay with it. Well I’m not. And I can’t believe you think I should be.’
He doesn’t answer straight away. The only sound is the click of his car indicator and my own heavy breathing.
‘I can’t get into this now,’ he says quietly. ‘I’ve got this meeting.’
But there’s no ‘let’s talk later’, I notice, so I practically shout ‘fine’ down the phone at him before I cut him off. Then I instantly regret it. What the hell am I doing? I’m never usually like this. I blame it on the hangover, even though I know it’s not the real culprit.
I type out an apology, then delete it– twice. My stubborn streak tells me this is for him to make right, not me. So I text Phoebs instead. ‘Got time for a girl chat?’
‘Always,’she replies. ‘Am I coming round or are we going out for coffee?’
‘Here’s probably better. I’m not dressed.’
‘Oh dear, this sounds bad. Hang fire, I’ll see you in twenty mins.’
I don’t do much beyond stare at the ceiling till she arrives. I romantically thought Ben and I would never have an argument, but now I realise how naive that was.
‘I feel like I’m pushing him away,’ I confess to Phoebs, when she’s made herself comfortable on the end of my bed. ‘I don’t want to ruin it, but it’s like I can’t help myself.’
‘I hardly think you’re the one who’s ruining anything. He’s asking a lot of you; it’s little wonder you’re stressed out about it.’
‘I just don’t know how to handle it. If he talks to me about her I hate it. If he doesn’t, it feels like he’s hiding things.’
‘Has he ever hidden anything from you before?’
‘No, but we both know he has secrets. His suspension, for example. He never, ever talks about that.’
‘I didn’t think you were concerned about it.’
‘I wasn’t, but now I’m questioning everything.’
‘You’re a good judge of character, Lily. I don’t think you would have given Ben the time of day, let alone the whole summer, if you didn’t think he was worth it.’
I want to believe her, but I can’t help thinking if we fell in love so quickly, couldn’t we fall out of it just as fast?
Phoebs thinks we just need to time to adjust to our new set-up. ‘And in the meantime, you’ve got another match to prepare for, and you’ve got your exam results this week...’ She sees my eyes go wide. ‘Don’t tell me you’d forgotten?’
‘There’s been so much else going on.’
She shakes her head disbelievingly. ‘I’ve already got my outfit planned for our big night out on Tuesday. Results day.’
‘I’ll be at training,’ I point out.
‘You can miss one session on the day you finish university.’
‘Or we could go out afterwards?’
‘Lily Crawford,’ she says sternly, ‘you’ve been trying to get your degree for five whole years. We are not postponing the celebration of you finally passing for another minute.’
I roll my eyes. I know she won’t back down. ‘You’re such a bossy cow sometimes.’
She just laughs and moos at me.
But to make sure I don’t change my mind, she comes to my house early on results day, so she can be there when I get the email. After that she’s insisting we go shopping to find me something sparkly to celebrate in– she doesn’t doubt I’m going to pass this time– then we’ll come back here and get dressed up before we hit the town.
I end up glad she’s here, because Dad is putting me on edge as he fidgets in his seat. They both look at me expectantly from the other side of the table as I open my laptop. ‘Effective leadership...’ I leave them hanging for a few seconds. ‘Pass.’
‘Yes!’ Dad beams.
‘Go, girl,’ says Phoebs, holding her hand out for a fist bump.
‘And global communication...’
‘You’ve got this,’ Phoebs encourages.
I try to sound as upbeat as I can. ‘I smashed it!’
It’s not that I’m not happy to be graduating– of course I’m pleased. It’s just while they high-five each other before coming round the table for congratulatory hugs with me, what I want to do more than anything is tell Ben, but right now we’re barely speaking. Our conversation on Sunday night didn’t manage to resolve anything. He’s still pissed off that I accused him of encouraging Georgina. I ended up suggesting we take a few days out to think about things.
I don’t know why I did it. I guess I was admitting to myself that I’m not happy. I don’t like the insecure, uneasy person I’ve become while I’ve tried– and failed– to handle the position I’ve found myself in. I thought a few days to regroup might help, so I can get back to feeling more like myself. Then I’m hoping we can revert to the fun and flirty chat that’s the reason I fell for him.
I resist messaging him while I’m out shopping with Phoebs and while we’re doing our hair and make-up, but I finally take the first step towards reconciliation when I drunk-text him from a bar later in the evening, while Phoebs is queuing for drinks.
It’s just a short message. ‘It turns out I don’t like not talking to you.’
His response is immediate. ‘I hate it! Are you free to chat now?’
‘I’m at my graduation drinks. Phoebs made me do shots. I’m a little slurry.’
‘You passed? Why didn’t you tell me?!’
‘We weren’t speaking,’I remind him. ‘But we are now. And when I see you on Friday we can make up properly.’
There’s a longer pause this time before his three dots start flashing. ‘About that,’ his message starts and it’s probably just as well I’m quite tipsy. It means my reactions are dulled and I don’t fly off the handle when he says, ‘Under the new coach there’s a ban on wives and girlfriends the night before a game, so I’m not going to be able to sneak you into the hotel.’
‘After the game then?’
‘Flying straight back to Millford with the team. I’m not trying to make things even more difficult. What about if I could get you a seat on the same flight?’
‘We’re away at Feybrook on Saturday. I’d never make it.’
‘Sunday then. Somewhere in the middle. One of the nicest hotels on our list. It’s probably better that way anyway– less chance of getting spotted.’
I ignore the reminder that we’re not allowed to be seen together and tell him, alongside a string of happy-face emojis, that he’s got himself a deal.