The Art of Keeping Faith (50 page)

Tristan pats the sofa next to him, “Think you may want to see this, Sis,” he laughs, pulling me down next to him and putting his arm over my shoulder.

On the screen it shows a stage being set up. There are words going across the bottom of the screen, which I struggle to read because they are going too fast. But when I do my heart nearly stops.

Former Sound Box front man Ben Chambers performing exclusive acoustic solo set, up next!

What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck!

“What the fuck!” I say, but before anyone can say anything in response the voice of that really annoying female presenter who always does the music shows pipes up.

“I got a chance to interview the lovely Ben earlier today, let’s see what he had to say about recent events,” she drawls.

The screen changes to a backstage type set up with vans and what have you in the back ground, and then I can see Ben and my heart stops.

No, it really does. I feel like I am going to be sick and faint all in one go.

Ben is on my telly.

“Ben is on my telly,” I shout. But no one can hear me because they are all shouting, too.

“So, Ben, it has been a big few months,” says the really annoying skinny girl with one of those sexy made for radio voices.

He runs a hand through his hair making it stand up Ben style and offers a chuckle. The camera zooms in and I can see freckles and crinkles and the faintest hint of a flush.

I just sit there with my mouth open. God he is so beautiful, and shit I really miss him. I mean I knew I did, but seeing him right there, looking like he is touching distance away but not being able to physically touch him is sheer torture. I could burst into flames it burns that bad.

“You could say that,” he chuckles, but I know it is really a giggle.

“So you left Sound Box. That was a bit unexpected. What made you decide to do that, just when the band were starting to hit it big?”

Ben gives a little shrug and I see the woman lean in a little closer. I don’t blame her, I would, too, if I could. Then I notice that I have. I am sitting on the floor right in front of the telly.

What does she mean he left Sound Box? I haven’t heard this. Dirty Bitches R’Us are seriously behind on their news updates.

“It just did not feel right for me anymore and I had to make some decisions for myself for once,” he explains.

“So when did this happen? There has been some confusion.”

“Just before Easter,” he tells the camera and it feels like he is speaking right to me. I mean I know he isn’t, he is speaking to whatshername, but it feels like he is talking to me. I want him to be talking to me.

What the hell?

What does he mean he left before Easter?

“So what have you been doing since? There are some girls out there that have been desperate for a sight of you?”

YES ME!

He giggles again.

“Yeah I guess. Well, actually there was a family tragedy and I decided to take some time out for myself.”

What family tragedy?

Then I remember the last sight he had of me as I screamed at him to leave and know which tragedy he is referring to.

“I am so sorry,” she tells him reaching forward and sliding her hand along his leg.

What a flaming cheek.

“Well it’s in the past now,” he tells her before flashing his megawatt smile and my heart nearly stops again. Does he mean that I am in the past, too? “It also gave me a chance to work on some solo stuff that I am going to sing later,” he adds.

“Can’t wait,” she gushes. “So one last question, what happened to your Valentine’s date? Because that looked like real love to the rest of us poor souls standing on the side lines watching.”

“Yeah, it was.” He nods at the camera, smiling his secret half lip hitch, which makes my stomach wrench uncomfortably.

“And was that the Delilah from the radio show out take.”

He nods some more. “That’s very observant of you,” he adds with a laugh.

“I’m a sucker for a love story,” she says.

“So am I,” he grins, the freckles crinkling.

With his right hand he reaches down and picks up a glass of water. I see it straight away, my ring is still there.

He is still wearing it. He still believes that Faith can conquer all. Fuck it. I have taken my ring off again … like the deranged … crazy … history repeating nutcase that I am.

“Speaking of Love Stories, can we expect to hear any Taylor Swift from you this evening?”

Ben laughs out loud. “Not on the stage, no. But would you like one now?”

She gives a girly giggle. “I thought you would never ask.”

He reaches down again, this time when he lifts his hand up he has the Gibson in his careful grasp.

He gives a wicked smirk and starts to play “Love Story.”

I can’t stop myself, I jump up from the floor and start screaming.

It’s my Ben; he is on my telly; he is playing Taylor Swift on my telly.

By the time I have finished jumping up and down on the spot and bursting my flat mate’s ears with my high pitched wailing the screen has changed again, and I can see Ben standing in the middle of the stage, the Gibson around his neck as he starts to play songs I’ve never heard before.

I know who they were written for. Every single one of them is for me and the baby that he thinks we no longer have.

After the set has finished and I have wept a lake-full of tears, I walk into my room and pick up my phone quickly typing in the new number Bev gave me the other day.

Me:
I love you.

That’s all I have to say for now. That may be all I ever get to say.

I crawl into bed and lay there for the longest time. There is silence in the lounge and I know they are all sitting in there discussing everything in hushed tones.

I just want to hear Ben again, so I get back up and head over to the iPod dock and scroll through until I find ‘Hey There Delilah.’

I settle back down again and glance at his watch and his gran’s ring on the bedside table as I listen to the notes of the Gibson fill the room. Without hesitating I grab the ring and slide it off the strap and back onto my finger where it always should have been. Satisfied, I lay down and listen to Ben’s voice fill the room.

As I lay in the dark I feel the strangest thing, a little pop just below my belly button. I ignore it and focus on Ben’s voice some more but then I feel it again, and then again and then again.

Realisation dawns slowly. It’s my baby. I can feel my baby move. I place my hand over the bump and say in a hoarse whisper. “That’s Daddy,”

I get another pop in response.

Later, Beth and Meredith sneak into my room and get into my bed wearing their ’pajamas.

“You okay?” Meredith whispers to me in the dark.

“Yeah, I am fine. I felt my baby move.”

“Oh my God that’s amazing,” she whispers back although not as quietly.

“I felt our baby move,” I correct and both of them reach for my hands and give them a squeeze.

16th June

I wake up and sit bolt upright.

I must have dreamt it, all of it.

Then two things happen at once. I turn in my bed and see Beth and Meredith still passed out next to me and in the same moment I feel another little pop in my tummy.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” I say then realise I am talking to myself.

“And a good morning to you, too,” Meredith sleep grins.

“Oh bugger off back to your own room,” I tell her, pushing her with my feet until she lands on the floor with a resounding thump.

Beth opens one eye and then grins, “Can’t kick me out, I have nowhere to go.”

“A situation that will soon be fixed. Can’t have you, me and a baby in here. It will be way too cramped.”

Beth giggles and then so do I. Meredith doesn’t but then she has fallen back to sleep on the floor.

“Oh no, the exam!” I moan. I have just remembered. There is another exam today. All the excitement of seeing Ben last night has completely pushed it from my memory.

Then I remember something else.

“Oh no, that article is going live today.”

Beth sits up. “Well that is okay. All of that stuff still stands, and you still need to get him to talk to you one way or another.”

“That’s true,” I concede although now I feel a little self-conscious knowing that a lot of people will have seen him on the telly and heard what he said. And then funnily enough there is an article from me the next day laying our relationship bare for all to see. Oh well, the good news is that it is not the sort of publication anyone reads on campus.

Oh shit.

The text.

I grab my phone and look at it, almost not wanting to. It is blank, nothing, well there is a text from Baz which says, “Bet you wish you had kept those tickets now,” but that is not the message that I want.

I wanted one from Ben but apparently it is true, you don’t always get what you want.

Right, then. I need to shake it off and focus. It’s my second to last exam and I cannot fuck it up.

Later

I fucked it up.

All I could think of was the blues and freckles with crinkles, and the black hair standing on end, and him singing “Love Story.” Then him standing alone on stage without his best friends and his words “I had to make some decisions for myself for once,” and wondering just what the hell that means.

What did he mean? Was he standing on that stage because he left the band to be with me and then the next day I told him to go away and that I never wanted to see him again? Has he spent the last two months by himself because I was in fact the only thing that he wanted and I was the one thing that he did not get?

If that was the case, why hasn’t he come home?

The situation on campus was not made any easier by the fact everyone stared at me as I walked to the exam. Obviously they were staring because of last night, but I was acutely aware of the fact I was wearing a ridiculous completely out of character floaty top and skirt to hide my widening middle.

I literally ran all the way from the gates to the examination hall and then back again. I really needed to go to the library to get some books but I could not face it. I will have to ask one of the girls to go for me.

Richard tried to talk to me but I just waved at him and ran off. I don’t want to talk to him, not now I know how he has lied to Fiona, but also how he has lied to me and implicated me in his extra-relationship shenanigans. That is so not cool with me.

So it’s home and revision for Friday, plus maybe a little bit of catch up telly. I am sure BBC iPlayer will have highlights from the festival I can watch and then watch again, and then maybe just one more time.

Later

My phone beeps and I launch myself across the room to land on it hoping desperately that it is Ben.

It’s Zoe.

The article has been another success, bumper hits or whatever it is that they say. She says she hopes it helps and that Ben and I sort it out soon because from his show on the telly it looks like he still loves me

I am not so sure. Why hasn’t he come home? Surely even angry, green and busting out of my clothes I am not that bad to be around?

Oh, my God, I am. Aren’t I?

Even later

My phone again.

Jayne:
I miss you, can we all sort this out? I hate missing out on what you guys are up to.

Me:
I miss you too, come and sort things out with Beth. Btw we are not taking sides we all love you too. xx

Jayne:
R U Coming to the ball on Sat?

Me:
No not this year but I think the others are. Sort everything with Beth soon so you can have a good time. xx

There is no way I am going to the Leaver’s Ball, there is not a dress in the world that will adequately hide my secret, and I’m not in the mood to give it away when I’ve made it all the way to the end of term with it still intact.

Nope, although I am technically a Leaver, I will not be attending the Leavers Ball. Besides, it will feel too raw and bring back too many memories of Ben and I and our big goodbye last year.

20th June

The Last Exam: Ever

I am going to try and stay optimistic but as I have buggered up every exam over the last couple of weeks, I am not going to hold my breath that this one is going to be a success.

Add to this that the exam is History on Screen—the one hundred per cent examination one—and it is about the Titanic, I am sure it is clear as I stand in the queue to enter the hall, why I am not feeling overly confident.

“Hey,” says a voice next to me.

I turn and find Barbie looking at me.

Seriously? I know I always joke about history repeating itself, but this is just plain silly.

“What?”

“I just wanted to tell you I was sorry to hear about you and Ben. And I thought he looked like he was still in love with you the other night on the TV.”