‘What are you doing here?’
‘Nice to see you too,’ Ellie said, now close enough to hold the umbrella over both of them.
‘Sorry,’ Ben gave her a weak smile. ‘It’s great to see you, but this is a vile night for you to be following up on me.’
‘I’m not working,’ Ellie said. ‘I’m on a mission of mercy. Hold this for a sec…’ Handing the umbrella to Ben, she rifled in a huge rattan shoulder bag. ‘Flask tea…’ she shook a silver thermos. ‘Tastes like shit but it’ll be a whole lot better when we add this…’ Next she produced a half-full bottle of whisky.
‘That’s amazing.’ Ben glanced around. ‘I’d offer you a seat,’ he added apologetically, ‘but my only spare is soaked.’
‘That’s OK,’ Ellie said brightly. ‘I have plastic rubbish sacks.’ She pulled a roll of black bags out, unfolded the spare seat and laid one over it before sitting down. ‘I also thought you might need this…’ she said, handing a fluffy white towel over.
Ben took it with a grateful look. ‘You’re going to make someone an amazing wife one day,’ he said as he pulled back his hood with his free hand and rubbed at his face and hair.
Ellie felt the heat rise from her neck and into her cheeks. Damn it, why did he have this ridiculous effect on her suddenly? She thanked her lucky stars that it was probably too dark for him to see her blush. For a moment they sat quietly in the deserted street, listening to the rain beat a steady rhythm on the umbrella.
‘Where are your ladies?’ she asked, grappling for a change of subject.
‘My fair-weather friends,’ he replied with a wry smile as he draped the towel around his neck. ‘I don’t blame them for staying home. I suppose their families would have something to say if they caught pneumonia from sitting out in this with me.’
‘You’re all set for the film crew tomorrow?’ Ellie poured some tea into a plastic cup and added a slug of whisky, which she handed to him. She had made the tea with plenty of sugar and now the air between them was steamy and sweet with the smoky, peaty smell of whisky.
Ben took a sip and grinned. ‘That is amazing!’ he said, regarding his cup with approval. ‘And, no, I’m not ready for tomorrow in the slightest but I’ll be here when they come.’
‘It’s not like you can go anywhere else, is it?’ Ellie laughed. She took a sip of her own drink and grimaced as the fire of the whisky hit the back of her throat. It was a good heat though, and she felt it spread through her almost immediately. ‘Aren’t you sick of all this now?’ she asked.
Ben stared thoughtfully across the road where the streetlights wore orange haloes in the rain. ‘Yes. And I don’t think Gemma is ever going to come back.’ He turned to Ellie. ‘You think I’m an idiot, don’t you? Is that what everyone thinks?’
‘Of course I don’t,’ Ellie replied quickly. She wondered whether this was the moment to tell him that Gemma might come back… but what if she didn’t? Giving him hope where there might be none was perhaps crueller than keeping quiet about what she knew. Besides, Gemma had asked her not to. There was that small part of her, too, that wanted him to give up and forget Gemma altogether. She tried not to listen to that tiny voice, though. The whole situation was becoming a terrible mess and nobody was more aware of that than Ellie. ‘Nobody does. All we get at the Echo are endless letters and emails from women who think it’s the most romantic thing they’ve ever heard.’
‘I bet the letters from men say I’m a prize dickhead, don’t they?’
Ellie smiled. ‘A few of them think it’s romantic too. You’ve had quite a few proposals from both sexes, believe it or not.’
‘Proposals?’ Ben frowned. ‘Like marriage?’
Ellie nodded.
‘Wow, that’s… freaky.’
Ellie laughed again. ‘I suppose it is. But people feel like they know you when you’re in the public eye, especially in the way you’re in their consciousness at the moment.’ Ellie paused, the irony of the words she had just spoken not lost on her. Gathering her wits, she continued. ‘Lots of people live lonely or unfulfilled lives without a partner or, worse, with the wrong one. You’re like a beacon of hope that, perhaps, their knight in shining armour is out there after all.’
Ben stared at her before taking another swig of his drink. ‘A beacon of hope and a knight in shining armour. I’m very sparkly tonight, aren’t I?’
Ellie giggled. ‘Can we think of any more light-based proverbs to add to that list?’
‘To be honest, I think that’s quite enough profundity for a wet Thursday night.’
‘Hmmm. And I’m not even drunk yet.’
‘We’ll have to remedy that. I say we finish this flask between us – get proper steaming.’
‘I like the sound of that,’ Ellie said. ‘But only if you strike a deal with me.’
He raised his eyebrows.
‘We don’t talk about the Echo or TV or Gemma or any of this weird stuff that’s happening right now. We sit here as mates and talk about stupid things like Monty Python and how many Sambucas you can drink before you pass out. I’m not Ellie Newton the reporter, I’m just Ellie tonight.’
A slow smile spread across his face. ‘OK, Just Ellie. I think I can manage that.’
The rain had stopped and the moon made the occasional appearance from the tumbling mass of clouds. Ben plucked gently at a battered acoustic guitar and sang softly as Ellie giggled.
‘Oh Ellie… You’re not smelly… you’re like a fragrant welly… I’d like to stay in with you and watch some telly… as long as it’s not about Ben Kelly….’ He grinned as Ellie snorted with new laughter.
‘You’re crazy.’
‘Thanks.’ He strummed lightly again and hummed to himself. His voice was rich and soulful. Ellie felt the hairs on her neck stand on end and a peculiar tingle in her spine.
‘Your guitar looks old,’ she said, trying not to think about what his singing was doing to her.
‘I’ve had it a long time. It was the first gift that was bought for me after mum and dad died. I think it was meant to cheer me up,’ he smiled sadly. ‘I suppose it did, in a way. My dad played guitar, so when I played I could imagine he was still with me.’
Ellie frowned, lapsing into silence as she struggled for something to say about his family that wouldn’t upset him. She wanted to ask about how he had got through such dark and tragic times, who had brought him up, what relatives he had left. But as he had not volunteered the information she wondered whether, perhaps, he didn’t want to talk about it.
Ben sniffed slightly. He put the guitar back into the case and forced a bright smile as he picked up the flask and sloshed it around.
‘I think that’s the last of it.’
‘Probably just as well,’ Ellie said.
‘Are you insinuating I’m drunk, Miss Newton?’
‘Of course not. But I may struggle to remember my own name in half an hour.’
‘Will you spill your deepest darkest secrets?’ he asked with an impish grin.
‘I don’t have any,’ Ellie countered. ‘I’m thoroughly angelic.’
‘You mean to tell me you’re never naughty? I find that hard to believe.’
‘I have to be good. I have a respectable career to think of.’
‘Unlike me, who is chasing a very unrespectable career.’
‘What do you want out of life? I mean, apart from the music school and the guitar tuition, what do you really want?’ she asked, her voice with a slight slur to it now. The alcohol had lowered her guard and even this seemingly innocuous enquiry was a question she would never have asked otherwise.
He shrugged with a sleepy smile, gazing across the street to where the clouds broke, just for a moment, to reveal the star-strewn heavens beyond. ‘What does any man want? To meet the girl of my dreams and hope she becomes my best friend, to settle down with her, to raise a little family. Maybe even have a happy, blessed life and leave the sort of memories of me that raise a smile from those left behind.’ He turned to lo
ok at her. ‘Have I missed anything out?’
‘Wow. You should write poetry.’
‘I do.’ He grinned. ‘It’s bloody awful, that’s why I work in a pub.’
Ellie gazed at him. What she was beginning to learn about the real Benvolio Kelly was having a strange and unexpected effect on her. This was perhaps the time when a sober, straight-thinking Ellie Newton would realise it was time to jump ship. But this wasn’t a sober, straight-thinking Ellie Newton. This was a thoroughly mixed up soon-to-be-riddled-with-guilt Ellie Newton. ‘But the pub’s not forever,’ she continued. ‘I’m sure when you get the music school up and running it will be amazing.’
‘It is my absolute dream job,’ he said. ‘Apart from fronting the world’s biggest rock band without actually having to do any speaking at all,’ he laughed. ‘What about you? Do you want to achieve great things?’
‘I want to do well at the Echo.’ She clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘Oops! I wasn’t supposed to mention the Echo, was I?’
He gave a low chuckle. ‘I’ll let you off this once.’ He took a sip from his mug. ‘So… there’s no significant other for you right now?’
Ellie shook her head. ‘Too busy.’
‘How can you be too busy for love?’
‘OK…’ Ellie laughed. ‘I’m not too busy to be in love, just too busy to go to the sorts of places where I might meet potential love candidates.’
‘Hmmm. So there’s nothing between you and that photographer guy?’
‘Patrick?’ Ellie raised her eyebrows. ‘You must be joking.’
‘You always seem to get on well. I thought maybe…’
‘We get on brilliantly. I also get on brilliantly with his wife.’
He smiled. ‘Ah. I’m still right that if there was no Mrs Photographer you might fancy him?’
‘No chance. His ego wouldn’t fit in my house for a start. And he’d never get past my mum’s rigorous series of potential son-in-law checks.’
‘She sounds like fun.’
‘Oh she is. She wants six months’ worth of bank statements, psychiatric profiling, CRB checks and they have to demonstrate the ability to walk on water for at least fifteen metres. Otherwise, they don’t get a look in.’
‘So any guy on your radar has a lot to live up to?’
‘Luckily I’m not quite so picky. So long as he can make me laugh and has a cute bum he has the job.’
Ben chuckled. ‘That sounds like a good checklist. What does your mum think of that version?’
‘I try not to tell her about it.’
‘What does your dad think?’
‘He’s kind of preoccupied at the moment. It’s complicated.’
‘Right…’
‘Do you think about your parents a lot still?’ Ellie bit her lip. The question was out before she’d had time to stop it. She felt the blush rise from her neck.
‘Yeah,’ he said quietly.
‘Sorry… I didn’t mean to be insensitive.’
‘It’s OK. It happened. It was a long time ago, but it still feels raw, ya know? I don’t think I’ll ever really get over it. But I try to stay strong and get on with my life because I know that’s what they would have wanted.’
Ellie stroked her thumb down the side of her mug thoughtfully. How did anyone get over something like that? He laughed and joked and was charming on the surface, but the fact that he was sitting here at all after everything he had been through was a testament to a steely resolve and a remarkable strength of character. She was suddenly gripped by the urge to pull him into a fierce hug. Instead, she took another gulp of her drink and turned her eyes to the sky.
‘Looks like the rain has cleared at last.’
‘Thank God for that. There was a danger I was going to evolve gills if it carried on.’ His words were meant in jest, but Ellie could still hear the heartbreak in them.
‘You’re alright?’ she asked.
‘Of course. I’m the man who can’t be moved.’
‘That was a great headline, even if I say it myself,’ Ellie said, trying to lighten the mood again.
‘Yep. You can totally take the credit for that. Although a certain Irish band might have something to say on the matter.’
Ellie laughed. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’
Ben made a cross over his heart. ‘You can count on me.’
A huge yawn took Ellie by surprise. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry. That’s such an attractive look! Now you know why I’m single.’
‘It’s pretty late,’ he said with a sympathetic smile. ‘I’ll be yawning myself in a minute. I’m so lucky that my luxury bedroom is just feet away. I don’t envy you having to make a journey home before you can go to sleep.’
‘Won’t it be all soggy?’ Ellie said, glancing over to a pile of kit with a frown.
‘The sleeping bag is all wrapped up in a tarp, which I can also drape over me if it rains. So I should be snug enough.’
Ellie wrinkled her nose. ‘It doesn’t sound very snug.’
‘Actually, you wouldn’t believe how warm my sleeping bag is. It’s designed for people who climb mountains.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Ellie replied, suddenly invaded by the image of them cocooned in the sleeping bag together. Then she slapped her forehead as she was reminded of something else, something very important. ‘How bloody stupid am I? I’ve got the sodding car sitting down the street and I’m over the limit!’ She had only planned to have one tiny drink, but she had been having such a good time she seemed to have got carried away. It was the first moment that evening the fact had even occurred to her. Ellie was furious with herself for being so remiss. Now she would have to leave the car behind and get home some other way. Her morning routine would be a nightmare; she would have to fetch it again before she went to work, not to mention the fact that she would have to avoid the film crew. The last thing she wanted was to get involved in that little circus.
Ben simply grinned. ‘I guess you’re keeping me company all night then.’
She looked up at him and they both suddenly became silent as their eyes locked. Ellie’s breath quickened and she could feel her pulse fast in her ears, some unnamed desire fizzing up from deep inside. They inched closer, a movement barely perceptible, and though the warning bells rang in Ellie’s head, she could not hear them above the voice that was urging her to move closer, closer, until she was close enough to kiss him…
The briefest of moments seemed to last an eternity, until Ben blinked and pulled away with an awkward laugh.
‘Wow… things got a bit intense there for a minute.’
Ellie’s gaze dropped down to her cup, a curious mix of relief and disappointment now churning her insides. ‘I’ll get a taxi,’ she said without looking up.
‘Maybe that’s best,’ he agreed in a quiet voice.
At that, she couldn’t decide what needled her most – that he hadn’t tried to persuade her to stay, or that she had wanted so desperately to kiss him.
His voice broke in on her thoughts again. ‘I’ve had a brilliant time with you, though, Ellie… the best.’
She looked up and tried to smile. ‘I suppose you’re off to your luxury bedroom now?’
‘I’ll definitely sleep better with a bit of whisky inside me.’
‘A bit?’ Ellie nudged him playfully, relieved that the danger of the previous few moments seemed now to have passed. ‘We’ve almost finished that half-bottle and I’m pretty sure I didn’t have that much of it.’
‘There was never half a bottle there when you brought it,’ Ben insisted with a laugh. ‘Either way it will make kipping on hard concrete that little bit more bearable.’
‘God…’ Ellie glanced at the pavement, the moonlight now glinting from the wet tarmac. ‘I never really thought about how horrible it must be sleeping out here.’
‘It’s not so bad.’ Ben shrugged. ‘I suppose I’m perfectly qualified to work for a homelessness charity when this is all over.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘Nothing bea
ts first-hand experience.’ He paused. ‘Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Perhaps I’ll do some good with my experience when this is all over.’
Ellie regarded him steadily as questions burned her mouth. What did Gemma have? What was so special about this girl? Would he have done this for any girl? Would he have done this for Ellie?
‘You should really think about that,’ she said. How could she ask him these things? Especially with the moment of their near indiscretion still hanging over them. Now, more than ever, discussion of Gemma going back to him was completely off-limits. But the more she thought about his future with Gemma, the more she questioned whether that future was actually right for either of them. Perhaps that was down to feelings of her own for Ben, now bubbling to the surface despite her best efforts to keep them down. The idea made her feel slightly sick with guilt as she thought about how she had pledged to help bring them back together, how she had encouraged a doubtful Gemma to reconsider her decision. This infatuation she was developing, or whatever it was, could not happen.
Ben looked at his watch. ‘It’s pretty late. You’ll be OK getting home alone?’
‘Why, are you offering to desert your post?’
He stared at her. It had been a joke on her part, but now she could see that he was torn.
‘It’s OK,’ she added quickly, ‘I didn’t mean anything by it.’
‘I do feel as though I should take you home though.’
‘That’s terribly medieval of you, but I think I can manage it alone.’
‘I didn’t really think this whole street corner thing through, did I?’
Ellie fastened the lid on her flask and forced a smile. She could only wonder that it had taken him this long to realise. But she didn’t say that. ‘You’d better not go anywhere now. You have the whole country waiting to see you on TV. Think how disappointed Annette and her gang would be if they didn’t get their five minutes of fame.’
Ben returned the smile, his as tight and forced as hers. ‘I suppose you’re right…’ He handed her the towel. ‘You know what, though, between you and me…’ He paused.
Worth Waiting For: A heart-warming and feel-good romantic comedy Page 11