The Art of Letting Go (The Uni Files) (32 page)

It is one week until Ben goes away. It is also one week until I start my career selling musical instruments that I categorically cannot play.

Tonight Sound Box is playing their last gig before their trip. Now that I am a girlfriend, it is considered acceptable that I go along and watch them set up and generally hang around like a spare part trying to keep all skinny blonde females away from my man. Only joking.

Okay, only joking a little bit.

The Gig

I am standing at the bar ogling Ben, who looks mighty fine in a favourite combination of mine: a pale blue button-up shirt and dark jeans. He's on stage doing a sound check when Liam, their manager, comes up to me.

“Hi, Lilah. How're you doing?”

“Good, thanks, Liam.”

Liam has had a lucky escape from my top-person-to-hate list, after being pegged to poll position by my father.

“So all's good with you guys now?”

I sense that the question is loaded.

“Yeah, we seem to be on track at the moment,” I say with a smile. I like very much the track we are on.

“Lilah, I hope you don't mind me being personal, but I've heard some rumours the last few days about you and Ben.”

Yeah, actually I do mind you being personal.

“Not at all Liam. What’s up?”

“Is it true that you are pregnant?”

I spit my wine everywhere and then proceed to have a massive coughing fit. I can see Ben watching from the stage looking concerned.

“Um, no, that is
not
true and it is also none of your business.”

“Well, it kind of is my business. You see, Ben is the one who makes the band, and if he doesn't go to America, then none of them do.”

Oh! Kick me whilst I am down, why don’t you?

“Not to worry, Liam. Ben will still be going, so you can rest assured that you will earn your money out of them.”

He glares at me and I glare right back.

“I don’t give a shit about the money, Lilah. I have been with these guys for years. They
deserve
this break.”

I count to five before swallowing my anger. It’s acidic and burns on the way down.

“I know, Liam.” I put a hand on his arm and continue. “I know. I'm sorry. It's okay. He’ll still be going. We both know that this is ending.” I gesture to Ben on the stage and to myself.

“I'm sorry too, Lilah. I really like you. It’s just that he would be crazy not to go.”

“I know! That is why I am making him go, even though it is killing me.”

He eyes me speculatively. “He should have jumped off the stage and chased after you the first time he saw you, instead of letting you leave with that slime bag that was all over you.”

I stare at him.

“You were there that night?” I ask, feeling astounded and not disguising it very well. Ben never talks about the first time he saw me. I think he finds it embarrassing.

“Yes, I don’t know why he has never told you. I think he thinks it’s a funny little secret of his that you can’t remember your first conversation but he can.” Liam laughs a little.

What!

“I never spoke to Ben before the Fresher’s Ball,” I start but he holds his hand up.

“Yeah, you did, and I’m glad for it. He’d been threatening to leave the band, then the gig came up for the bank’s Christmas party. It was very lucrative, so he agreed to play it when Dave begged him. He spoke to you and then saw you in the crowd and started obsessing about you straight away. That night he told me that he was not going to leave Sound Box because he was determined to find you again and playing with the band was the best way to do that.”

I stand there open mouthed. Now this I did not know.
Holy shit!

Then it hits me. This is what Tristan was describing to me back in January. That I was sleep walking around, but to such an extent I couldn’t even see the man of my dreams standing in front of me. But
he
saw me, though. Ben saw me, and wanted me.

Liam grins into his something and orange juice. “You should see your face,” he says, but I don’t really pay any attention.

I just start to walk towards the stage. Ben watches me approach with growing trepidation on his face. I know he thinks Liam has said something to upset me. I step up the stairs two at a time and reach him in the middle of the stage, where I throw my arms around him and pull him towards me as tight as I can. Our lips come together, and despite our location on the front of the stage and the crowd of onlookers, we meet in a hungry kiss, our bodies melting together inch by inch.

Eventually he pulls away, dancing blues staring at me. “What was that for?”

“Because I love you.”

I watch as he takes this in.

“What?” he asks.

“I. Love. You.”

I grin at him and then lower myself off the stage to the applause of our little audience.

Sound Box rocks again, and I am the proudest woman in the world.

Beth has come to a gig for the first time. Halfway through the set she trips along and puts an arm around me. “I didn’t get it before, but I do now. He is pretty hot, and I am not even that way inclined.”

I laugh and give her a squeeze. “Don’t you remember him from the Fresher’s Ball?”

“Nah, I was way too hammered.”

I laugh at her, as she moves off to dance. I suspect she might be a bit hammered tonight as well.

Yep, Ben is pretty damn hot, and he is all mine for the time being. I am the cat that got the canary. Not just a canary, I am the cat that got the canary and rolled it in whipping cream.

“So why do you love me?” Ben asks as he nibbles along my ear and jaw, making me squirm and not at all in a bad way.

“Because it’s as easy as breathing and feels like the most natural thing in the world.”

In return, he kisses me properly. “I always knew, you know. That’s why I could not believe that this would not happen between us. The connection was too strong. I have never felt this way before.”

“You heard me tell Beth, didn’t you?”

He giggles.

God, I love his giggle.

“Yep, she knew I was there. I came home when you were at the bar buying drinks. She winked at me as I walked through. At first I did not understand, but then I heard you come back and the clink of bottles, so I sat there listening, knowing that she was going to lead you into a confession of some sort.”

“Shit! I was set up.” I can’t summon the enthusiasm to be really angry.

“Yep. I just sat there and shamelessly listened at the door. I nearly came barging in when I heard you tell her, but I knew you were not ready, so I waited.”

“You know, it doesn’t change anything, don’t you? You are still going.”

“Yeah, I know, but at least I can leave knowing that this was all real.”

I snuggle up against him, laying my leg over his.

“I love you, Ben Chambers.”

“I love you, Lilah McCannon.”

17th March

Period Watch: Nothing to report

Last night I went to sleep to the feel of Ben’s fingers tracing patterns on my tummy.

18th March

Period watch: Nothing.

19th March

4.00 p.m.

Tristan and I have been all grown-up and gone to the bank to arrange our mortgage. The mortgage adviser asked something completely derogatory along the lines of "Were we sure of the financial commitment we were making together?" If I put all my money in to the property, then I am effectively stuck. The same is true with him agreeing to pay the mortgage, not that the mortgage will be that big. The deposit is nearly half of the overall property. The house will be 50/50 owned.

We turned to look at each other and grinned. Yeah, we were sure. The McCannon children are finally growing up. I feel completely liberated that I am doing something without Dad’s help. It means more to me than anything. I am finally beginning to be my own person.

Mum wants to see me, although I am not sure I am ready yet. She has sent three texts (I didn’t know she had learned this valuable life skill) and has left about five voicemails. I don’t know what to say to her. Perhaps something like,
"Hey Mum, thanks for abandoning me over Christmas at the height of my depression. I was fine, by the way. Oh, also, I have sex three times a day—sometimes more on the weekend—with my new amazing boyfriend, whom I will never introduce to you. Oh, and I might be pregnant."

Yeah, I think that is a conversation I could do without for a while.

5.00 p.m.

Jayne, Beth, Meredith, Tristan, Ben, and Me. We are family now. Well, this is what I am thinking as I look about our table at the pub. We are out celebrating our mortgage and the fact that next year we will not have to be homeless or live on Roehampton Lane in a caravan. It is all good.

6.00 p.m.

Ben is not enjoying himself, and I can't make out why. He is just staring at his pint and doodling patterns on my palm.

6.30 p.m.

Still doodling.

6:50 p.m.

Think I will go for a cigarette. I know he will follow.

11.45 p.m.

Ben found me in the alleyway I ran away to in September after he first asked me out. We had the most heart-breaking conversation I think we have had yet, more so than Valentine’s Day but for completely different reasons.

“What is the matter with you?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Seriously. Nothing?”

“I’m jealous.”

That’s my Ben, always direct.

“What on earth have you got to be jealous of?”

“You.” He waves a hand at me. “Making all these plans, and doing all this grown-up stuff. I wish it was with me.”

I step towards him. His is looking at the toe of his shoe, which is digging in the pavement at our feet.

“Ben, we’ve been through this.”

He grabs me and pushes me against the alley wall.

“Nothing is enough when I am with you,” he confesses as he leans his body against mine “It’s all moving too fast. I just never know what I want.”

His voice is low with a fierce undertone. When his lips touch mine, they are far more forceful than I am used to. There is desperation in his touch and the way he is holding me. I cannot resist him. His despair eats into me.

“What do you want, Ben?” My question is low as I bite back the desire growing inside me. I know I probably will not be able to give him whatever it is he wants. He wants me to say I will go with him, or he can stay. I know I will never say that.

Instead, he surprises me. “I want you to have my baby, in there, right now.”

His hand slides along my stomach under my top, fingertips dangerously close to dipping below the waistband of my already low jeans. My knees start to give a little bit as my stomach takes a dive. He pushes me back further into the alleyway, lips furiously kissing me, my mouth, my throat, and along the V-neck of my top as his hands slip under my jumper grabbing my sides and pulling me into him.

“Ben,” I plead against his mouth.

He moves away a fraction.

“You know deep down that it would not be right.”

“Do you not want to have children with me?”

His hands are distractingly busy. I think of his question as I try to ignore his exploratory touch.

“In any other circumstances than right now, yes, I would.”

He stops and looks at me.

“You know how I feel about you, Ben. We have been through this so many times now. Yes, you're right. It is
never
enough. It
is
going too quickly. But we made a promise, and we have to see it through. Can you do that?”

He examines me as he thinks this over. “What will you do if you’re pregnant?”

“Ben, I don’t think I am.” I keep my voice level.

“I know, but what if you were?”

“Then I would still want you to go away and do your thing. We could sort everything else out after.”

He stares at me in shock. “I would never leave,” he states firmly.

“I know. That is why I have to hope that it is not happening. You deserve better than getting me pregnant by mistake and then blowing all of your dreams because of it.”

“It would not be a mistake to me,” he says in my ear, “it would be the best thing ever.” He leans against me and kisses me, hard and passionate.

If I do not break away soon we are going to end up having sex in the alleyway. And that would so not be classy.

“I know, I know,” I murmur, feeling the tears looming. “Come on, my love.” I shake off my melancholy. “Let’s go back inside and join in with everyone else. And will you please stop feeling me up in dark alley ways and against trees?”

I giggle. We both know he can feel me up wherever and I will put up little protest.

“My love?” He asks.

“Yes?”

“I like it.”