31
Ben
I am on the train heading from London to Cambridge, and during the fifty-minute journey, all I am thinking about is what I am going to say to Jemma when I get there.
I know that jumping on a train and going to her parents’ house is very unlike me.
It’s spontaneous, reckless and perhaps a terrible idea, but once I made the decision, I knew I had to do something.
I needed to act before I changed my mind and chickened out like I always do when it comes to matters of the heart.
When I think back on the first time that Jemma and I broke up, it was essentially because we had different life plans.
She asked me to go travelling with her, and maybe if I had, we would have stayed together and been married already.
What if I had stayed with Natalie Hartman before I even dated Jemma?
Natalie was amazing, but I got cold feet and ended it before it got too serious.
My entire life has been a catalogue of relationships where I have been too afraid to commit, adapt, or in the case of Saffy, get out before being attacked with a soft Italian cheese.
It has been one mistake after another, and so it’s no wonder I am in the situation I am now, but something Will said made everything click together in my mind.
For once, I just listened to my heart without letting my head get in the way with its million ‘what if’ scenarios, questions about the practicality of the situation and a hundred ways in which following my heart would lead to financial ruin and emotional heartbreak.
I simply listened, and my heart spoke to me.
I walk from the train station to Jemma’s parents’ house and before long I am standing outside a pretty double-fronted Victorian terrace on a gorgeous tree-lined road.
Memories from nine years ago come flooding back to me.
I message Jemma that I’m outside and I wait.
I don’t know exactly what I am going to say, but I care a great deal for Jemma, and I want to do this the right way.
After a minute, the front door opens, and a very confused Jemma appears.
‘Benji, what are you doing here? I thought you had work to get done,’ she says with a bright smile, walking out and giving me a kiss.
She looks gorgeous, and for a moment my brain tries to start a fight with my heart and begins spiralling with its usual list of demands and questions.
I have to tell it to shut the fuck up because I have made a decision, and I need to stick to it.
‘Can we talk?’ I say, and for a second, I see a flicker of doubt and uncertainty flash across her face because she can obviously detect the rising notes of tension in my voice, but before she can respond, two people appear from behind her.
‘Ben!’ says her dad, Gordon. ‘I thought it was you. What are you doing here?’
‘I, umm—’
‘Don’t just stand there, come in. I’ll pop the kettle on,’ says Jemma’s mum, Helen, and before I have the chance to reply I am being whisked inside, the kettle is on, Helen is fetching the cake she made yesterday, and we are going to have a proper catch-up.
This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen, but it’s happening and there is nothing I can do about it other than smile politely and eat Helen’s cake.
Gordon and Helen’s house is gorgeous. It’s warm, homely and exactly the sort of house I could see myself living in one day.
It’s full of photos of Jemma and her brother, and lots of paintings because Helen is an artist and does the most incredible oil paintings.
Gordon is an English lecturer at the university, so they also have a large library of books in the second reception room.
They are a lovely couple, and I hate the fact I am there to break their daughter’s heart, when I could have been joining their perfect little family instead.
‘So, Jem tells us you’re back together,’ says Helen, making the tea, while Gordon is taking care of the cake. ‘That’s quite a story.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ I reply.
‘We just bumped into each other in the middle of London!’ says Jemma.
‘What are the chances?’ says Gordon.
‘That’s exactly what I said,’ says Jemma.
‘I think it’s lovely,’ says Helen. ‘Right, sit down, Ben, and you can tell us all about what’s been happening with you since the last time we saw you. What has it been, seven, eight years?’
‘Nine, actually,’ says Jemma.
‘Nine years! I can’t believe it,’ says Helen.
‘It doesn’t feel like nine years,’ says Gordon. ‘Has it really been nine years?’
‘It has,’ says Jemma. ‘Nine years.’
You can almost feel the warmth and the togetherness in the room.
Jemma genuinely loves spending time with her family, and I can see why – they’re like three peas in a pod.
After a minute, Helen puts a mug of tea down in front of me, and Gordon serves a traditional rich fruitcake.
They want the story of my life, while all I want to do is have a conversation with Jemma in private about why I need to end our relationship.
‘Jem says you’re an asset manager,’ says Gordon.
‘That’s right,’ I reply, taking a sip of my tea. ‘Private equities, mainly property investments, that sort of thing.’
‘Very swish,’ says Helen. ‘I don’t understand anything like that, do I, Gordon? I’m completely useless when it comes to money or the stock market. Put me in a room with a canvas and a paintbrush and I’m as happy as Larry, but high finance, no thank you.’
‘I feel the same about fine art,’ I say, and Helen giggles before she offers me a selection of biscuits even though I haven’t yet finished my cake.
Fortunately, after thirty minutes of being grilled about my life, my future plans – tricky – and if I am staying the night, Jemma says she’s going to show me her new room, and finally we’re going to get some time alone.
We walk up the stairs and into Jemma’s new bedroom.
They added a loft extension a few years ago, so her parents have a whole floor with an ensuite, and Jemma has the larger of the two guest bedrooms, which was her parents’ old bedroom at the front of the house.
It’s been beautifully decorated in neutral colours with a few of Helen’s paintings on the wall.
When we walk in, Jemma sits down on the bed, and I sit next to her.
The bed is particularly comfy, and the duvet is floral with a few decorative pillows.
Everything about Jemma’s parents’ house is just like Jemma – it’s all so wonderfully perfect, and my brain is desperately trying to tell me not to mess this up.
I could have everything I ever wanted with Jemma.
‘What are you really doing here?’ says Jemma after a moment. ‘I know you didn’t come all this way just to get questioned by my parents, and to be honest, I didn’t believe the work story.’
‘No, you’re right. I did come for a reason,’ I say, looking at Jemma, and I feel wretched. I care for her so much, and I don’t want to hurt her.
‘You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?’ says Jemma suddenly, catching me off-guard.
‘Jem, I’m sorry. I like you so much, and being together again has been great, but I just don’t think you are The One . I don’t want to mess you around and keep going when I don’t think this is it.’
‘You’re doing it again, aren’t you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re freaking out because it’s getting serious, and you’re deciding to quit now before something goes wrong.
Can’t you see, Benji, you do this? You always leave a relationship when it’s good before it gets hard.
You love the honeymoon period, but don’t you see that the best bits are yet to come? ’
‘Poppy said the same thing.’
‘Then why are you breaking up with me? Maybe you just need to give us some time. I know it’s all happened so fast, but we can slow down a little if that’s what you want.’
I look at her and I have to tell her the actual, this is going to hurt, truth.
‘Because I’m in love with someone else, Jem.’
‘What?’ she says incredulously. ‘Who? I don’t understand.’
‘With Saskia.’
There is a long pause. This has obviously come as quite a shock to her.
‘The girl in Australia?’ she says eventually. ‘You’re leaving me for a girl who lives on the other side of the world, who you haven’t even met?’
‘I’m listening to my heart, Jem. I’m sorry.’
She laughs. ‘You don’t need to apologise. Clearly this is some sort of early mid-life crisis.’
‘Or a slightly delayed quarter-life crisis?’ I say half-laughing at my attempted joke.
‘It doesn’t matter, Benji. Look, I don’t know what is happening with you, but clearly, you’re going through something—’
‘I’m not, Jem. I’m just, and for the first time in my life, being brave.
I’m following my heart instead of my head.
You know why I didn’t come travelling with you after university?
Because I listened to my head. I was too afraid of the million things that might have gone wrong instead of the one thing that might have gone right.
I’ve always played it safe, followed the rules, because I thought that meant being happy.
Get a solid career, be financially stable and then everything else would just fall into place, but it didn’t.
Love isn’t about being safe, Jem, it’s about listening to that little voice in your head that says, fuck it, go for it. ’
‘So, this is it? You’re really breaking up with me for good?’ says Jemma, and for the first time, I see tears beginning to settle in her eyes like tiny paddling pools.
‘I am, and I’m sorry. You’re amazing, Jem, but you deserve to be with someone who followed their heart to you. Someone who took a chance because you were worth it.’
‘I thought that person was you,’ says Jemma, weeping now, and I hate that I have made her cry, but I don’t have a choice.
‘Maybe our chance was nine years ago. If I had come travelling with you instead of playing it safe, perhaps we would have made it then. Maybe not, I don’t know, but I do know that right now, my heart is in Sydney and that’s where I need to go.’
‘You’re really going to jump on a plane and fly halfway across the world in the hope that she’s the love of your life?’
‘I am.’
‘Then I suppose … good luck?’
‘You mean that?’ I say, slightly shocked that she’s being quite so understanding.
‘Benji, if you’re prepared to travel to Cambridge just to break up with me, and then you’re going to fly across the world, hoping that a girl you met online is the love of your life, then what else can I say?
I wish it had been me, but I want you to be happy, and ultimately if she is The One , then good luck to you. ’
‘Jemma, you are truly amazing. I hope that one day soon, you meet the love of your life, and you get everything you deserve.’
‘Me too,’ says Jemma with a despondent smile.
I lean across and give Jemma a hug goodbye. I can’t believe how wonderful she is being about this, and yet I can because she is an amazing person. She just isn’t my amazing person. After a tearful hug goodbye, Jemma and I head downstairs, where we are met by Gordon and Helen.
‘Are you staying for dinner, Ben? I made a shepherd’s pie,’ says Helen.
‘Actually, I’m heading back to London. Sorry.’
‘Oh, right,’ says Helen.
‘That’s a shame,’ says Gordon.
‘Look, guys, the truth is, I just broke up with Jemma. I think she’s incredible, and you’re lovely, and in another version of this world, I think I would have been very happy with you as my in-laws, but my heart is elsewhere. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay, you can go now,’ says Jemma with a slightly teary smile.
‘Oh, right, bye then,’ says Helen.
‘Cheerio,’ says Gordon.
‘Did you want some shepherd’s pie to go? For the journey,’ asks Helen.
‘No, I’m good. Thank you,’ I reply, before I take one last look at Jemma, and then I walk away, out of the front door and back towards the train station and home.
I need to start searching for flights to Sydney, and I have to email work.
They aren’t going to be happy about it, but then again, they’re also not going to have a choice.
I have to do this. I broke up with Jemma, and now the only thing left to do is fly across the world and proclaim my love for Saskia.
The thing is, I have decided not to tell Saskia I am coming.
I want it to be a surprise. I want to turn up at her door because this is the beginning of my big love story.
This is the ending of the romantic comedy film that I want my life to be.
I am finally going to play the role of Hugh Grant, the bumbling, rather foppish Englishman, who realises at the end of the film that, actually, he’s madly in love with the girl and he can’t let her go without a fight.
So, he dashes to her, proclaims his love with some quite dramatic music playing over the top, and perhaps some dreary English weather – or in this case some Australian sunshine.
This is the ending I want for this story.
I get on the train, find a window seat and then relax as we pull away towards London. I take out my phone, go to text messages and I write one to Will.
I’m choosing love.