The Art of Keeping Faith (40 page)

“Fine,” I shout back from the hallway.

“Was it busy?”

“Uh, yeah. Um, Mer, what are you doing in the kitchen?” I call back.

“Making you dinner,” she replies with a level of cheerfulness that the smell does not belie at all.

I just make it to the bathroom before I am sick in the sink. That makes six times today, that is a huge improvement! Being busy helps, who knew?

Trist saunters into the bathroom and watches me from the safety of the doorway. “The smell makes me want to do that, too.”

I splash my face and dry off on the towel hanging from the rail.

“What on earth is she trying to do?”

“She wants to make sure you and the baby are well nourished and cared for. And in the absence of someone living in the house that can cook she has decided to step up to the task.”

That’s actually quite sweet.

“What’s she making?”

“Spaghetti Bolognese, your favourite,” he informs me beginning to walk away.

I start to gag again, but it has nothing to do with All Day Sickness. There is only one person’s spaghetti Bolognese that I like and it is made by someone that really does not live here anymore.

I trudge into my own room and stare around. Ben is everywhere in here. I literally can’t touch any of his stuff. I feel this sensation inside of me that if I start to move his belongings then he won’t belong here anymore and I will accidentally erase him from my life.

Let’s be honest I am never going to be able to erase him completely because there is always going to be a bit of him with me. But all the photos, jumpers and various items of dirty washing that belong to him, are still laying on my floor where he left them last week, and all his books and belongings that he did not take to the States in October are still haphazardly shoved on my shelves. I keep expecting him to come padding in with his bare feet and to wave his Biro at me asking if I have seen his notepad anywhere.

My heart aches with a resounding thump as I sit on my bed and look about my room.

I haven’t heard from him.

I can’t quite believe it.

I’ve tried to call him five times today which is an improvement on the ten times yesterday, but it is still just answerphone.

I can’t believe he would not talk to me. That is not the Ben I know and love. I wonder where my Ben is?

Taylor Swift is singing “Come Back … Be Here.” And so am I. Very, very loudly.

Me:
Ben. Please can you ring? Or come home? Call??

27th April

Ben:
Nothing

I am staring at the ceiling.

Staring at the ceiling is a good pastime for me. It involves not moving, therefore there is a reduced chance of hurling. I have been awake for an entire hour and have not been sick yet—this is a first.

Staring at the ceiling means that I do not have to look at the mess still littering my room. I ignored it last night. Instead, I ate two mouthfuls of Meredith’s brave attempt at Spaghetti Bolognese, then I tiptoed back into my room and got into bed trying to lie still for a while to keep the food down.

I woke up an hour ago clutching Ben’s iPod again. I don’t remember listening to any music as I went to sleep or even having the damn thing in my hand. But there it was when I woke up.

Odd.

One hour later

“Hey are you awake?”

It’s Meredith. She has her sheepish look on her face.

“What have you done?”

“What? Why do you think I have done something?”

I don’t bother responding I just pat the bed next to me.

“Come and join me, I can’t move.”

She laughs and walks into the room. I am not watching her, but I hear her pause as she looks around.

“Do you want me to help you tidy?”

“Nah.”

“Wash your clothes?”

“Nah.”

“Pack up Ben’s stuff?”

“Nah.”

“Wash Ben’s stuff?”

“No.”

Because then it won’t smell of him anymore and I may not be able to replicate that exact mixture of smoke and fabric softener again.

“Lilah.” She snuggles in next to me under the duvet. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“Nah.”

“Have you tried to call him again?”

Not in the last five minutes, no.

“Nope.”

“What are you going to do? You are going to have to try and tell him soon. He must be hurting pretty bad for him to go off the radar like this. He hasn’t called Tristan or anyone.”

I reach for her hand under the duvet.

“Meredith, Ben just walked out the door. I know I need to tell him, but I also need to think about the fact he walked away from me. I mean he didn’t even wait to find out what happened at the hospital. Maybe he just saw his exit cue and grabbed it while he could.”

I squeeze my eyes shut to push the image away along with the stinging tears.

“Yeah, because that’s what you asked him to do, remember? You screamed at him and told him to leave you alone. He thinks he killed your baby because you started to bleed after seeing that picture,” she says holding my fingers a little tighter.

“I am pretty sure he was on his way out anyway, before I even asked. And, if he wanted to fight for me then he would have stayed, regardless of the circumstances, and helped build us back together again. Just like Tristan did with you last year.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Why? What have you heard?” I wiggle onto my side to look at her. “Meredith, have you spoken to him?”

She gives a negative shake of her head and disappointment settles deep in the pit of my stomach.

“Nothing,” she confirms.

“Oh.”

“It’s just last night I popped in to check on you and you were clutching his iPod like it was the Holy Grail.”

“I was not!” I state.

“Were, too. Listen, Lilah. There is nothing wrong with admitting that you acted in haste and that your hormones were out of control and that maybe you did not really mean to push him away. If he knew you didn’t mean what you said, and that you hadn’t lost the baby, he would be here right now building a bloody cot and folding baby grows.”

“Oh, my God, Meredith! He was going to break up with me anyway, isn’t that what that photo was about?!”

She is quiet for a moment.

“I don’t know, Lilah. I didn’t get the chance to ask him, did you?”

I have to think back.

Shit.

“Well it’s not like I’m not trying to contact him. He will take out a restraining order soon. Or Mihraandah, his girlfriend, will.”

She giggles a little. I am so glad she thinks it is funny.

“It’s not funny.”

“No, you’re right. It’s not. But I am sure if you called him up and explained that your hormones were exaggerating your crazy Lilah gene he would forgive you quick enough.”

“Well, let’s wait and see what the next week of Ben and Lilah-gate brings shall we?”

“Okay, let’s.”

“So anyway. What were you creeping in here for all sheepish about earlier, before you started the Spanish Inquisition.”

“The Spanish had an Inquisition?”

“Very funny, you’re a shit history student. Now come on, spill.”

“Your mum and dad are coming this afternoon.”

“What!”

“Sorry, Lilah. But I can’t make up any more excuses.”

“Oh no, she is going to be able to guess.”

“About which bit?”

I pull the duvet up.”

“All of it.”

Crap.

Later

Valerie McCannon Strikes Again

“Wow, Lilah, I’d say this is the worst you have ever looked. That’s quite remarkable. Now be a Dharling and fetch your mother another Gin and Tonic.”

“Meredith, my dear. I think you are going to have to rethink the green bridesmaids dresses.” (Meredith has completely stolen my bridesmaid idea—but then I have to remember that I am not getting married. Ever.) “There is no way Lilah could pull off that colour if she looks like she does now.”

Did Benjamin not come and visit you at Easter? I figured he was on his way to break up with you after that picture in the paper.

So it is over then? Well, let’s be honest. That is not a huge surprise. I will have to call Beverley and have her pay up. She had him down for proposing and I had him for breaking up with you.

So the question is, who needs enemies when you have Valerie McCannon as a mother?

I’ve only been sick five times today; this is another step in the right direction.

Tomorrow I am going to attempt Uni and I am under no illusion that it is going to be easy. But I am determined to finish my second year with my integrity intact. It’s the last term of the second year. I simply have got to go.

Me:
Ben?

28th April

Ben:
Nothing

“Pass the bin quick!”

Professor Johnson looks at me in confusion but then thankfully passes me the bin just in time for me to retch into it.

Classy.

“Lilah, have you been at the vodka again?”

“No,” I groan. I wait for the hot sweat to fade before lifting my head to face him. I may stay with my head in the bin all day.

“What is it, then? Have you still got that bug? Because if that is the case I don’t think you should be on campus. We don’t want an epidemic.”

“Believe me there is not going to be an epidemic.”

“Really?” he questions.

This has got to be the most awkward conversation I have ever had.

I lift my head and look at him.

“It’s okay there’s not going to be an epidemic of girls throwing up into bins, not unless there is something awful in the water.”

He narrows his eyes a little as he thinks over my words.

“Listen, Professor Johnson, this is a bit difficult because I need to tell you something, but at the same time I need it to be kept confidential from the other students and staff.”

His eyes narrow further just as the door bursts open.

“What’s a secret?” asks Pilchard as he enters the room with far too much enthusiasm to find out a student’s secret.

“What’s going on, Lilah?” Johnson asks, using his nice calm voice when he spots me looking at Pilchard with a high level of caution.

“It’s just, it’s just …”

“Yes?” Pilchard settles himself on one of the low office chairs enjoying this way too much.

“It’s just there has been a change in my circumstances and I don’t think I am going to be completing my degree anymore. I kind of wanted to talk to you about it.” I am looking at Johnson specifically and not Pilchard.

“What? why?” they both say at once, clearly shocked.

Oh not as shocked as they are about to be.

“Um, because I am expecting a baby which is due in November, so I don’t think I am going to be able to do the third year.”

They both stare at me with their mouths hanging open.

“Obviously, I would like to finish the second.”

Johnson is the first to recover. “Of course, of course, Lilah. This is exciting news, what does Ben think?”

Damn it.

“Well this is where it gets a bit tricky. Um, well. Ben and I are not together anymore and I kind of don’t want anyone knowing about the baby. It would make things very complicated what with the lifestyle he’s leading at the moment and having his picture taken all the time. I don’t want to draw any unwanted attention to the University or have photographers trying to get a scoop on campus, etc.”

This is a blatant lie but I am rolling with it.

“So all in all, I don’t want anyone knowing until the end of the year, when I can just disappear without a fuss.”

Johnson bursts out laughing.

“Lilah, you have never managed to do anything without a fuss.”

What a cheek!

I must pull a face because he starts to laugh even more.

“Lilah, it’s okay we will respect your wishes, I am sure. But I seriously think you should consider finding a way to come back next year. It would be a shame for you not to finish and we would miss you.”

“Really?”

“Well, we will miss Vodka Lilah more. But either of you is nice to have around.”

Very funny.

“Okay. So I don’t want any special treatment but obviously I am going to have appointments. I think I have one tomorrow.”

I didn’t know this but Meredith informed me this morning. Apparently she is opening my post these days to stay on top of my schedule.

“No problem. Just let us know if you need any extra help. I can always do another one-to-one study session in the library for you.”

Ugh. The library.

“So, I think that’s it,” I say as I start to edge myself out of the uncomfortable, low chair.

“Okay, Lilah, take care.” Johnson tells me with full sincerity.

I dash out of the door as quick as I can. As I walk the corridor to the stairs I can hear them roaring with laughter.

How bloody rude.

Me:
I did something brave today. You should have been here to see it. Where are you instead of being here with me?