The Art of Keeping Faith (23 page)

I am pretty sure that we don’t have any plans, or maybe I just came up with that whilst in a sex-induced coma.

“We didn’t have any plans yesterday, today we do.”

I squint at him through one eye. “Benjamin, what do you mean we have plans?”

He bites his lower lip for a moment, which nearly distracts me.

“We are having a family day.”

Before I can question further he jumps from the bed and dashes out of the room, a moment later I hear the bathroom door bang.

I have a bad feeling. Very bad.

Two minutes later

I step into the steaming shower, hands on my hips.

“Are you trying to look scary? Because to be honest you just look sexy,” he grins.

One soapy hand snakes out and pulls me under the hot water.

“I am not trying to look anything. I’m just wondering what a family day involves, and why you thought it was necessary to run away after telling me.”

As he rubs some shampoo into my hair I can see this shower conversation taking a whole different direction. Focus.

“We are having a family day.”

Well that’s not too bad.

Then I remember that I also have a family and he may not be talking about just his own.

“Benjamin, what family?”

“Ours,” he smirks.

“Ours? What do you mean ours?”

“You know, our families. I thought it would be nice, seeing as I don’t get to come home very often.”

Now, what I think would be nice would be if we were to spend the day having sex, just like yesterday.

He has me though, with that little blackmail about not coming home very often.

“I should warn you that Mum and I are not actually talking.”

“I know that’s why I arranged it.”

“Beeeennn!”

He chuckles pulling me in toward him and kissing me in his knee wobbling way.

“That’s not going to distract me,” I say against his mouth.

He pulls back to look at me.

“Well. How about you get through today and I make sure you are well and truly rewarded this evening?” He smirks a little because he knows this is bribery I can’t resist.

And honestly who would try?

“It had better be worth it, Benjamin.”

He flashes me his rock god smile. “Oh, I can assure you it will be.”

And with that he steps out of the shower leaving me all hot and flustered in his absence.

Cocky shit. I don’t think America agrees with him at all.

Hold on, I can’t really say that. Those abs are still jaw droppingly drool worthy, so maybe America just agrees with him a little bit.

12.05 p.m.

Mum and I are sat staring at each other.

It’s fair to say there is an uneasy tension in the room.

“So, Dharling, did you and Benjamin have a nice day yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“So what did you get up to?”

I don’t bother to respond I just raise one eyebrow.

“Oh. How lovely,” she says.

Then she turns her attention to Ben. “Ben, you look like you have been having a lot of fun. Well, at least that is what the papers say.”

Ben shifts uncomfortably. “Well, it’s been a lot of hard work,” he tells her earnestly.

“Really? It just looks like a lot of hanging around with naked girls to me. It can’t be that difficult.” She eyeballs him intently.

“Yes, really.” Ben’s eyebrows crinkle into a frown and he straightens his shoulders a little.

“So, anyway,” chimes in Beverley, Ben’s Mum. “Who fancies some bucks fizz? Come on Valerie, we have been in the same room as our children for fifteen minutes and neither of them have offered us a drink. I think we should help ourselves.”

Mum, who is still staring at Ben with a burning intensity, turns her attention to Beverley.

“You’re quite right.” She joins in with the fake Mum sing song tone that Bev has affected.

When they leave the room Ben and I glance at each other. “What was that?” he hisses at me.

“I have no idea, I thought it was me she was pissed at.”

“Shit, I thought I had won her over with my Chambers charm but I am going to have to try harder.” And with that he is up out of his seat and walking into the kitchen with his easy grace and I can hear him taking over the drink pouring and drawing Mum into conversation.

“You know she is just worried about you.”

Oh, it’s my Dad. I had forgotten he was even here.

“No, she is not. Mum has never been worried about me, ever.”

“That’s not true at all. We both love you and are always worried about you. Your mum just doesn’t know how to show it.”

This is rich coming from my dad, who ignored me for the best part of last year.

“Do you?” I ask, like the sulky teenager I am.

“Of course I do, Lilah.” He grins at me and I see a flash of his former glory days in his smile; the kind of smile that Ben has now.

He gets up from his spot opposite me and then plonks down, practically in my lap.

“I show you like this,” he says giving me the almightiest hug I think I have received from him since I was eight and he still used to hold my hand to cross the road.

Wow.

“Jesus, did you just hug me?”

I can’t help it, I am a sarcastic bitch.

“I sure did.” He winks.

What, now he is winking at me? This is all too much. I need a cigarette and to get out of this crazy house.

The path to the escape route in the kitchen is blocked by mother, so I just offer my dad a grimace come smile and head to the front door.

Ben joins me three minutes later and offers me a flute of bubbly; clearly he figured I could do without the orange juice.

“You okay?” he asks and takes a cigarette from the packet I have balanced on the snow-topped wall.

“Yeah. I think so. My Dad just gave me a hug.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“What’s with your mum?”

“I told you, she’s crackers. That’s why I have been ignoring her.”

I’ve spent the time since Ben woke me up with the dreadful news we were having a family day trying to explain to him why it’s such a terrible idea.

“She’s not a big fan of me, that’s for sure.” He shrugs.

“Nah, she loves you. Just ignore her. She is probably just suffering from Gin withdrawals.”

“Delilah!”

“What? It’s true!”

“Come on, let’s go in and face them and make this work.” Ben slides his hand into mine, his fingers slipping into the place they belong.

“So next Christmas when you come home and surprise me, are you going to invite the family as well?”

“Definitely not.”

Ha. Told him so.

“Lilah,” he continues. “If our situation is still the same by next Christmas, then I know I will have done something very wrong.”

Stopping my walk back into the house I turn to face him. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing for you to worry about now.” He smiles and leans in to kiss me. “Ready?” he asks, hand on the door open.

“No, not at all,” I tell him. I push him against the wall and kiss him instead.

We are disturbed three minutes later by Mum coming out to check where the gin was kept.

Told you so.

27th December

“I can’t believe you have got to go tomorrow.”

“I know, me neither,” he says kissing my neck.

“Can’t you stay one more day?”

There is a moment of silence.

“I don’t think so, Lilah. We have a gig on New Year’s and I can’t let the others down.”

I blow a big raspberry.

“Anyway, let’s not think about it now. Can we just enjoy ourselves?”

“What do you propose?”

He leans up on one elbow. “Fire, wine and naked time?”

I think about it for a whole two seconds. “Okay, go, go, go.” I leap from the bed grabbing the duvet and dash for the lounge.

Obviously I stop for a brief moment to catch a glimpse of Ben left naked on the bed.

I am only human after all.

Later

It’s been another amazing day, another perfect day spent with Ben.

Even yesterday, to my complete surprise, turned out to be good. That’s just Ben though, isn’t it? Making it seem all normal and relaxed with his easy going approach to everything. He even managed to melt my mum’s ice queen act within about twenty minutes. He soon had her gushing about the new vicar and all his amazing plans, and how she wanted to go to Africa to help all the starving people.

Dad and I sniggered into our wine at this point. Mum is known for her fads—they never last long. Once she tried to turn the acre of garden around our house in Guildford into an animal shelter. This was all cool until she found the long haired smelly animal rescue volunteer who had inspired her efforts in her ensuite shower with an afghan in need of a wash and a detangle.

She won’t be going to Africa, of that I am pretty sure.

Ben then had a long and very boring talk about Californian wine with my Dad. Dad hates American wine with a vengeance; he calls all the land they have wasted on their grapes a sacrilege to the art of fine wine making. Ben gave him some notes on some great ‘suggestions’ he had that may change his mind.

Both Jack and Valerie McCannon were drooling over him by the time they tripped out of the front door. And well, so was I.

Bev, who was heading back to their house for the night, just stopped at the door and squeezed his cheek. “That’s my boy,” she told him with so much pride she was close to bursting.

“Don’t be daft, Mum,” he flushed, brushing her hand away but he did not let her get far before he swept her into a big hug. I had to turn away to hide the tears that were burning my eyes.

Goddamn it. I hate goodbyes.

“Sometimes you are so like your Dad,” she said glancing him over before offering a watery smile and wandering down the path to the waiting cab.

Ben did not say anything, he just stiffened by my side. I did not say anything either. Ben’s dad is a subject even I am not brave enough to broach.

Even later

Or Ben’s Dad is a subject I am not liable to broach unless I have drunk the best part of two bottles of red wine.

It’s pitch dark and we are snuggled under the duvet.

“Ben?”

“Mm.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Mm. If you have to when I am asleep.”

“What did your mum mean yesterday when she said you are so like your dad?”

There is silence in the darkness.

“It’s just no one ever mentions your dad?” I ask him again, when the silence has stretched further than I can bear.

“No one talks about my dad, Lilah, because he is a complete wanker.”

“Uh, okay.”

Ben rolls over onto his back and links his fingers under his head. “I mean, remember in January when you hated your dad because you thought he was trying to force you into things you did not want.”

“Um, yeah?”

“Well that was not hate you were feeling. Hate is something bitter and twisted, and it becomes a part of you that you can never escape.”

Whoa.

“So your dad left when you were three, and what you never saw him again?” This is the question I have most wanted to ask.

“Nah, he turns up every so often, I heard from him just the other week. He always manages to find me and rock up, asking for something. Two weeks ago he needed money because he could not afford to pay his rent on his crummy bedsit.”

And whoa again.

There are so many things that I want to say and ask. Like, ‘why have you never told me?’ And, ‘what happened in the first place?’ But I don’t.

Instead I say, “I’m sorry.”

Rolling onto his side he slides a hand along my waist pulling me closer. “You always say sorry even when it is not your fault.”

“That’s because I am always sorry when something hurts you, and I know this does.”

“Well there is nothing you can do to help. My dad is a waste of space that I happen to share genes with, and that is all there is to it. I choose not to remember half the time. And the other times when I do, I just remind myself that he is there as a lesson for me to learn from and nothing else.”

OH, MY GOD! WHAT HAPPENED!?

Ben starts to chuckle at my side. “You want to know what happened, don’t you?”

“No. Not unless you want to tell me.”

“You are a terrible liar, Delilah McCannon.”

“Oh, I know. Just tell me!”

He pulls me closer and leans his chin on my shoulder like he is about to impart some massive secret, which I guess he kind of is.

“There is not much to tell I’m afraid. Mum and Dad met when they were young. They had the girls and then me. And then one day Dad, who used to be a singer, got offered a job on a cruise ship.”

“A cruise ship?” I can’t keep the incredulous tone out of my voice. That sounds ridiculous even to me, the Queen of Ridiculous.

“Yep, a cruise ship. Anyway he did not really talk it through with Mum or anything he just said it was an opportunity that he could not miss and went. Just like that.” Ben’s voice, although barely more than a whisper, is as bitter as fresh squeezed lemon juice.

“So what? He just left?”

“Yes, and he never came back. To begin with he sent money home and then one month that stopped as well. Mum was left alone with the three of us and I started to hate him. I was only tiny but I just remember hating him more than anything. I still do.”

“But you said you spoke to him the other day.”

“Oh yeah. He did come back eventually, but not until I was about seventeen and Sound Box were starting to get some good reviews. He came back and tried to take all the glory for having a talented son. I told him to fuck off, obviously. But he still pitches up every so often with a guilt trip about how poor he is and how he could have been doing the same as me if he’d not had us kids.”