25
Ben
I have called an emergency meeting at the pub.
It felt like the only thing to do given the recent turn of events and everything that transpired after Simon’s video release party.
I am in complete and utter turmoil, so I have called a summit with my nearest and dearest in the hope that they might be able to shed some light on my current predicament.
It is also the night of the weekly pub quiz.
So it is that I find myself in a pub in Clapham on a wet, dreary and rather gloomy night with Simon, Abigail, Will, Poppy and Hugh – or ‘Smarty Pints’ as we are called for the quiz.
We are sitting around a table, each with a glass of something alcoholic – except Hugh who has a meeting in the morning and has gone with the rather controversial choice of a tomato juice – and I am explaining my conundrum, while we also participate in the quiz.
‘Let me get this straight,’ says Will. ‘Jemma gave you an ultimatum. It’s either you stop FaceTiming with Saskia or lose her?’
‘That’s right,’ I reply.
‘And you said you’d stop FaceTiming with Saskia?’
‘Yes.’
‘Right,’ says Will, a perplexed expression on his face. ‘So, what’s the problem?’
‘Yes, brother dearest, why the dramatic text?’ says Poppy, reaching down, picking up her phone and reading out the message I sent them all verbatim. ‘PUB TONIGHT! URGENT! I NEED YOUR HELP! EVERYTHING IS FUCKED! I mean, seriously, all caps?’
‘I had to convey a sense of urgency.’
‘It was a bit much,’ says Will.
‘I only use all caps for important events or big announcements,’ says Hugh, before he starts chuckling. ‘Although there was Monty’s stag. All caps fest!’
‘Question number seventeen!’ says the quizmaster Ricky, who is sitting on a chair by the bar, a microphone in one hand and a pint of lager in the other. ‘What is the currency of Denmark? I’ll repeat that. What is the currency of Denmark?’
‘Do they have the euro?’ asks Simon.
‘I know they’re in the EU,’ says Poppy.
‘They don’t,’ says Will. ‘I was there last year. They have the Danish Krone.’
‘Are you sure?’ says Hugh.
‘One hundred per cent,’ says Will.
‘Okay, writing it down,’ says Poppy, who is in charge of the answer sheet.
‘Back to Ben and his sense of urgency,’ says Abigail. ‘Jemma asked you to stop FaceTiming with Saskia, which was totally justified, and you agreed. What’s the problem?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ I say to the group, and they all look at me with baffled expressions on their faces, so clearly, I need to explain. ‘I don’t want to stop FaceTiming with Saskia.’
‘Because you love her. You’re in love with Saskia. Case closed. I solved it!’ says Hugh.
‘There would be no case at all without you and your big mouth,’ says Poppy.
‘Sorry about that again, old boy,’ says Hugh.
‘It’s fine, Hugh. I had to tell her at some point,’ I reply.
‘I still don’t understand,’ says Abigail. ‘You’re with Jemma, you really like Jemma, and I get that you and Saskia are close, but is she worth ruining your relationship with Jemma over? Is she that important to you?’
I suppose this is the crux of the issue.
My relationship with Jemma is great, and I can see us together long-term, but this thing with Saskia is important too.
It’s like I can’t completely let go of Saskia because then it is admitting that there is no chance of us being together.
I suppose I’m just not there yet. But I should be, right?
If I truly do see a serious relationship with Jemma unfolding, then surely, I have to let Saskia go.
When Jemma put me on the spot at the flat, I crumbled and told her I wouldn’t FaceTime with Saskia again, but in the cold light of morning, I’m just not sure that I can.
‘The honest answer is, I don’t know. It’s like on one hand, I realise there is no chance of Saskia and I being together, but on the other, not having her in my life at all feels impossible.’
‘Question eighteen!’ says Ricky, his voice booming over the pub. ‘What planet is closest to the Earth? I’ll repeat that—’
‘It’s Mercury!’ says Hugh quickly and quietly.
‘Are you sure, because I thought it was Venus,’ says Abigail.
‘Oh, right, yes, it might be Venus, actually,’ replies Hugh.
‘Which one?’ asks Poppy, pen at the ready.
‘I think Abigail is right. Let’s go with Venus,’ says Hugh. ‘Or Mercury.’
‘I’m going with Venus,’ says Poppy, writing it down. ‘So, Ben, remember when we had the intervention?’
‘Difficult to forget. It’s not every day your family and friends get together to demand you dump your girlfriend.’
‘Exactly,’ says Poppy. ‘Because you wouldn’t have done it on your own. Don’t you see, the problem lies with you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You can’t let go of things. You hold on to them even when they aren’t good for you,’ says Poppy.
‘Hence why you can’t stop FaceTiming with Saskia, and we had to have the intervention to make you break up with Saffy.
You’re inflicted with an acute case of buyer’s remorse.
What if I choose this person, but then someone better comes along?
What if I break up with this person but actually, they were the best I could do?
You constantly second-guess yourself, which is why you’re still single, unable to commit and afraid of losing Saskia, just in case she is The One . You’ve always been the same.’
As soon as she finishes, everyone at the table claps and says, well done, Poppy, first-class analysis of Ben’s shortcomings as a human being. The question is though: Is it true? Do I have a constant case of buyer’s remorse when it comes to love?
I have to go back to my first girlfriend, Hannah Doyle, aged sixteen.
Hannah and I started dating, and for six months we rode the rollercoaster of teenage passion and desire, before things unravelled.
She was doing her Duke of Edinburgh awards, and she ended up cheating on me with a boy named Gavin.
She confessed they had bonded during orienteering, one thing led to another, and before long they had forgotten about their compasses and the only navigation they were interested in was the way into each other’s underpants.
The thing is, when she confessed, I forgave her and said we should keep going out.
It lasted barely a month before she cheated on me again at a laser tag in High Wycombe.
At university, before Jemma, I dated a girl called Natalie Hartman, and she was a brilliant girlfriend.
She was kind, fun, attractive and pretty much everything I wanted in a girlfriend at that point in life, but I ended up breaking up with her because I was worried it was too good.
I wasn’t ready to settle down with her because it was only the first term at university, and what if the love of my life was out there and I missed her because I was already with Natalie?
Natalie was devastated when we broke up, but I couldn’t be tied down at such a young age.
As it turned out, six months later I started dating Jemma, and we dated for two years.
Jemma and I were great together. She was the perfect mixture of beautiful, smart, funny, but she was also independent, strong-willed and had things in life she wanted to achieve beyond us.
Perhaps in a way it was the perfect university relationship because we were happy together, but also knew it had an expiration date.
It allowed me to let her go without remorse because we knew it wasn’t going to last due to our conflicting post-graduation plans.
During my twenties, I had a series of firework flings – starts off with a loud bang, some fizzing explosion, before you’re ultimately a bit disappointed – and then there was Saffy.
When I look back on my dating life, it has pretty much been a disaster on many fronts, and maybe Poppy is right.
I am destined to end up single and alone because I am never satisfied, always looking for something else when what I have is great, or completely invested in the wrong person, convinced that maybe they’re The One .
My judgement when it comes to women is about as far off as Hannah’s compass during orienteering – she and Gavin both failed the orienteering portion of their Duke of Edinburgh awards, which felt like some sort of karma.
‘Question nineteen!’ says Ricky, taking a long pull of his pint. He’s on beer number five and has been drinking quickly. ‘In what year did Tony Blair become Prime Minister?’
‘Nineteen ninety-six?’ says Will, but he doesn’t seem sure.
‘Ninety-eight?’ says Abigail.
‘We need to work backwards to get the right year,’ says Hugh. ‘General elections are held every five years, and we just had one in two-thousand and twenty-four, which means it should have been in either ninety-nine or ninety-four.’
‘I don’t think it was ninety-four,’ says Poppy. ‘That seems too early, right?’
‘I think it was ninety-seven,’ I chip in.
‘Why? Disclose your sources!’ says Poppy.
‘I just have a hunch,’ I reply.
‘What are we going with?’ asks Poppy, and we all look at each other.
‘I say ninety-six,’ says Will, and we all agree because none of us really know, and Poppy scribbles it down.
‘If you’re right and I do have this constant case of buyer’s remorse, what should I do?’ I ask the group because this is why I called them here. Clearly, I make awful decisions if left to my own devices.
‘I think you need to end things with Saskia and focus on Jemma,’ says Will.
‘She’s clearly into you, makes you happy, and let’s face it, you are punching above your weight there, mate.
’ I notice that when he says this, everyone at the table slowly nods in agreement.
‘Go all in on Jemma because even if Saskia is perfect for you, she’s also ten thousand miles away. ’
‘Agreed,’ says Abigail. ‘Saskia might be brilliant, but you’ve never actually met in person, you don’t know what you’re really getting with her, and she lives in Australia. Hardly the perfect girlfriend, while Jemma is awesome, lives nearby and you are already going out.’
I look towards Poppy. ‘I take it you feel the same?’
‘I do. A bird in the hand. Plus, I already have Jemma’s number in my phone, so it’s just easier.’
‘Thank you for that. Hugh?’
‘You know me, Ben, not one to rock the old boat.’
‘So, you agree with Poppy?’
‘Always,’ says Hugh, earning a solid smile from Poppy.
‘And lastly. What do you think?’ I ask Simon, who looks at Abigail, and then he turns towards me and says.
‘Actually, I am going to say something different. If you really believe that Saskia might be your soulmate, and if you’re unsure about Jemma, then I think you need to explore that. Sorry everyone, it’s just the way I feel.’
‘Thanks, mate,’ I say, before Simon adds.
‘Although obviously, I think what Abigail said is also valid.’
So, that’s it. Everyone in the group, bar Simon, thinks I need to stop FaceTiming with Saskia and go all in on Jemma, and maybe they are right. It would make my life so much easier.
‘Question number twenty!’ says Ricky, much drunker than when he started the quiz. He still has ten more questions to go. He’s going to be hammered by the time he finishes. ‘What is the French phrase for a threesome?’
When Ricky says this, everyone at the table looks towards me before Simon says.
‘I think Ben’s got this one.’ Which, of course, makes everyone start laughing.
The quiz continues to question thirty, but the conversation about my love life is seemingly over, and it seems like I only really have one choice.
I have to end things with Saskia, whether I want to or not.
After the quiz, which doesn’t go well for our team – we get a measly nineteen out of thirty – and Ricky needs to be escorted outside because he’s too drunk, we get another round of drinks.
Poppy fills us in on her pregnancy, Will tells us all about his Ironman training, and his plans for a month-long trek through Patagonia.
Sometimes it is hard to be friends with Will because he makes my life seem quite mundane.
The other day I was pondering doing a ten-minute ab workout – in the end I made my peace with a five-minute ab workout and then a bit of a lie down – while Will ran ten miles this morning, biked for twenty and did a one-mile swim.
He’s off coasteering in Cornwall during the week.
I imagine it’s like being pals with Tom Cruise, but without all the weird Scientology stuff.
Eventually, as we’re finishing up our drinks, Simon taps his pint glass, and we all look towards him.
‘I have something to say,’ says Simon.
‘Actually, we have something to say,’ says Abigail.
‘Oh my God, you’re pregnant!’ says Poppy.
‘Not pregnant,’ says Poppy.
‘We’re moving in together!’ says Simon, before he immediately looks at me. ‘Sorry, mate, but we’re in love and we just want to be together all the time.’
‘It’s okay,’ I reply, and it is, but it still makes me incredibly sad because Simon and I have lived together for eight years. It’s the end of an era.
‘I won’t move out until you find a replacement,’ says Simon.
‘Where will you live?’ asks Poppy.
‘We’ve been looking at flats in Streatham,’ says Abigail.
‘Streatham is fab!’ says Poppy. ‘We have friends there.’
‘Are you sure it’s okay?’ says Simon, looking at me.
‘Of course, mate. No matter what, you’ll always be Flatmate Simon.’
Simon goes off to the bar with Abigail to get in another round, and with that it seems I’m going to have to find a new flatmate.
I also have to tell Saskia we can’t FaceTime anymore, and my life feels like it’s suddenly moving along at quite a rate of knots and whether I like it or not, I have some big decisions to make – I just hope I don’t end up with buyer’s remorse once again.