Love at First Fight

by Mary Jayne Baker

  ‘No. She’s never mentioned it in ten years – not to me anyway.’

  Cal shrugged. ‘She feels humiliated, I should think. That’s how I’d feel if someone had done that to me.’

  ‘Suppose she does.’ Ben was silent a moment. ‘Do you think I should apologise or something?’

  ‘Bit late now, bruv.’

  ‘I know. I feel bad, that’s all.’

  Cal raised an eyebrow. ‘What, you? When did you develop a conscience?’

  ‘Well, she’s a mate, isn’t she? I mean, sort of, in that weird way where I feel she’s only seconds away from kicking me in the nuts at any given moment. I never meant to hurt her.’

  ‘Then what did you stand her up for? You knew that’d hurt her but you still did it.’

  ‘All right, I suppose what I mean is that I never meant to keep hurting her,’ Ben said. ‘I was just a stupid kid then. It’s the ten years afterwards I feel worse about.’

  They glanced up as Pete approached them from the bar. Cal shot his phone a sly sideways glance to check the time: 7.33, right on schedule…

  ‘Just the man I wanted to see,’ Pete said, slapping Cal on the back. ‘How’d you like to earn yourself a free pint, young Calvin?’

  ‘Depends what I have to do for it.’

  ‘I’ve got a couple of barrels down in the cellar I need to tap. Fancy giving me a hand to shift them? It’s a two-man job and I can’t take Noah off the bar.’

  Cal shrugged. ‘All right, that seems a fair deal.’

  ‘That’s OK, I’ll do it,’ Ben told Pete. ‘Cal’s only got little puny arms. He can stay here and mind our drinks.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Cal stood up. ‘He asked me first. You’re not having my free pint, mate. Anyway, I need the macho points to compensate for that half-inch you’ve got on me.’

  Pete raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh?’

  ‘In height, you elderly pervert.’ Cal patted Ben’s head. ‘Although I’ve long been convinced it’s mostly hair. Shave that off and I bet I’m at least four inches taller. Come on then, Peter.’

  ‘If you’re not back by the time I’ve finished my beer, I’m pinching yours!’ Ben called after them.

  Cal followed Pete behind the bar and through the door that led down into the cellar. At the top of the stone steps, the landlord flicked the light on and locked the door behind them.

  ‘Right,’ he said in a low voice. ‘It’s 7.37. Hattie’s going to text in exactly two minutes. Let’s get into position, shall we?’

  Ben was absently watching Sky Sports on the Garter’s big TV when he noticed Cal’s phone buzz.

  A message flashed up from Hattie.

  Sweetie, can you call me straight away? Something urgent’s come up. ASAP please, I need you right now!!!

  Hmm. Urgent. Did she mean urgent urgent, or was that just the sort of thing girlfriends said to get you out of the pub early? Hattie probably wanted Cal to pick up a bottle of wine on his way over later or something. Anyway, Ben was sure whatever it was could wait ten minutes.

  He was about to go back to watching the football when the phone buzzed again.

  And I mean urgent urgent, not finish-your-pint-first urgent. I’m talking major disaster. NOW, Cal, or I swear I’m going on sex strike for a fortnight!

  Ben sighed. So this was life in a relationship, was it? It really wasn’t selling the idea to him. He pocketed Cal’s phone and went to the bar.

  ‘You mind if I pop down to the cellar for a sec, Noah?’ he asked the barman. ‘My brother’s helping Pete shift some barrels and I’ve got an urgent message from his missus.’

  ‘Yeah, help yourself,’ Noah said, nodding to the door behind him.

  Ben went to try the handle, but the door wouldn’t open.

  ‘Seems to be locked,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, right. Pete must’ve locked it behind him. He’s always paranoid someone might lean against it and fall down the steps,’ Noah said. ‘Tell you what, if you go outside you can bang on the delivery doors and they’ll be able to let you in that way. They won’t hear you knock from up here.’

  ‘Right, cheers. Keep an eye on our drinks a sec, will you?’

  ‘Yeah, no problem.’

  Ben nodded his thanks and headed outside to the double doors that led into the beer cellar.

  He could hear voices as he approached, his brother and Pete obviously deep in conversation. He frowned as a snatch of it reached his ears.

  ‘Yeah, I know, poor cow. Still, I don’t suppose your Ben cares, does he?’

  Eh? They were talking about him? That was Pete who’d just said that. What poor cow was he on about?

  Ben was about to knock on the door and ask when Cal chimed in.

  ‘He doesn’t know,’ Cal said to Pete. ‘Me and Hattie swore to her we’d keep the secret. It’s probably for the best, knowing Ben like I do. I really hope she’ll get over it, given time. That’s the best solution.’

  Secret? What secret? Too curious now to stop eavesdropping, Ben lowered his fist and moved nearer to the door.

  ‘Will she though?’ Pete said. ‘If she hasn’t got over it in the past decade then I can’t see it happening now. Even him sodding off for a year didn’t help.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s ironic really, isn’t it? That it should be him, after all the time the two of them have spent doing battle. I don’t think she even realised how deep she was in until he came back from Peru. She’d been in serious denial before that, with this twenty dates thing, but after Ben came home she found she just couldn’t lie to herself about it any more.’

  Bridie! They were talking about Bridie. Bridie and… him? What on earth did it mean?

  Pete sighed. ‘That poor lass. Tell you what, if I was ten years younger I’d be tempted to see if there was anything I could do to cure her.’

  Cal snorted. ‘Fifteen years younger, more like.’

  ‘Yeah, all right. Still, she’s a lovely girl, Bridie Morgan. Good laugh.’

  ‘I know. She deserves someone who’ll make her happy, and with her looks she could easily take her pick, whatever she says about being jinxed when it comes to men. I just can’t see her ever making a go of a relationship while she’s still hung up on my brother.’

  ‘Did she know it was Ben she was playing tonsil hockey with at the party that night?’ Pete asked.

  ‘No – well, maybe on some level she did, in her subconscious or whatever. She’ll never admit it though. I reckon she’d be devastated if she knew she’d let him see just how deeply in love with him she is.’

  Ben smothered an exclamation. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this! It wasn’t true, was it? It couldn’t be. Bridie Morgan, in love with him? No. She hated him – he’d heard her say so. She’d hated him ever since…

  ‘I’m surprised she can even bear to look at him after he broke her heart when they were at school,’ Pete said to Cal.

  Broke her heart… yes, that bit was true, wasn’t it? Bridie had told him as much when she’d believed he was Bruce – at least, she’d said that’s how it had felt at the time. She’d genuinely had feelings for him once, when they were kids. But the idea that she could still have them now, today, after all the years they’d spent merrily at war with one another…

  ‘He didn’t break it enough to stop her loving him,’ Cal said. ‘What amazes me is that Ben can’t seem to see it. The way she pretends to hate him because she’s so afraid of him finding out her true feelings, yet she talks about him constantly. The failure of every relationship she’s ever had while she’s been lying to herself about it. Her jealousy over his track record with women. She fell for him at school and it’s my belief she never stopped having those feelings.’

  ‘Did she say that?’

  ‘More or less. She was a bit drunk one night and it all came spilling out to me and Hattie. How she puts up this shell of sarcasm because she knows he’ll never be able to love her back. How much it hurts, having to watch him with other girls all the time. How she feels she’ll never be able to mak
e a go of it with someone else because she can’t stop herself loving Ben.’

  ‘Why doesn’t she just tell him all that?’

  Cal laughed. ‘You have met my brother, right? He doesn’t do love: just sex. She’d only be setting herself up for another broken heart when she became another notch on the bedpost he’s practically whittled away to nothing.’

  ‘You’re not planning to tell him then?’

  ‘God, no. I love Ben, but Bridie’s an old friend. I couldn’t bear to see him hurt her again. Not that I think he’d do it on purpose; he’s a womaniser but he’s not a bastard. Still, I know that’s what would happen. You’d never be able to convince someone as cynical about love as my brother that it’s possible to have feelings as deep as Bridie’s are for him.’

  Pete sighed. ‘That poor kid. I hope she gets over it.’

  ‘Me too. But let’s face it, it’s not looking good,’ Cal said soberly. ‘Well, there’s nothing to be done about it, I suppose. Just one of those things. Come on, let’s finish shifting these barrels before Ben nicks my pint.’

  Ben slid to the ground, his back against the doors.

  He could hardly believe it. And yet Cal said Bridie had told him, in her own words, with her own mouth. She loved him – she’d loved him since school! And the way she was with him – the insults, the sparring – that was just her way of defending herself because she was so afraid of getting hurt by him again. Now he looked at it like that, it made perfect sense.

  She loved him. Bridie Morgan loved him. No woman had ever loved him in his life before. No one had ever thought he was worth it – hell, even he didn’t think he was worth it. Ben felt a strange sensation creeping into his belly: excitement, mingled with a sort of warm gratitude.

  So Cal had been keeping this from him, had he? Trying to protect Bridie from his selfish, shagging wolf of a big brother. And all this time, all these years, every time he’d been with someone else it had been another kick in the gut for the poor lass. No wonder Bridie had sounded so angry at the party when she’d talked about his sexual history, calling him conceited; shallow; a gigolo. Those words had been haunting him ever since that night – it was a relief, in some ways, to realise she hadn’t really meant them. Now he knew all that he knew, Ben was starting to wonder if she had known who he was after all…

  What should he do? Should he talk to her about it, or… or what? His head spinning with unfamiliar, frightening thoughts and feelings, Ben stood up and wandered dazedly back into the pub, his errand entirely forgotten with the shock of this new discovery.

  Twelve

  ‘So we were thinking melon boat starter, then lamb for the main with a pea risotto alternative for the veggies and vegans,’ Cal said as he, Ben and Pete sat around a table in the sun-drenched beer garden of the Crossed Garter. ‘Sound good to you guys? Hattie’s devolved responsibility to us.’

  Pete, who was sorting out the wedding catering, looked up from the iPad he was making notes on.

  ‘You’ll be paying through the nose for lamb in the autumn,’ he said. ‘What about chicken? That never goes out of season.’

  ‘Dunno, seems a bit boring. Hattie liked the idea of minted lamb. Ben, what do you think?’

  Ben, absently tearing strips off a beer mat in the seat next to him, didn’t answer.

  Cal poked him, and Ben started. ‘Hm? What?’

  ‘Come on, bruv, you’re the deciding vote,’ Cal said. ‘Chicken or lamb, what do you reckon?’

  ‘I’ve eaten, thanks.’

  Pete shook his head. ‘What’s up with you today? You’ve not listened to a word we’ve said, have you?’

  ‘Yes I have.’ Ben racked his brains to remember any snatch of the conversation that had been drifting around him. ‘Lamb… gets up your nose in the autumn. Or something.’

  ‘You jumped about a foot when I prodded you then,’ Cal said, turning to examine him. ‘Something on your mind?’

  ‘Course not.’ Ben tore the beer mat into halves, then quarters. ‘Bad night’s sleep, that’s all.’

  Pete squinted at him. ‘Here, have you changed colour?’

  ‘Eh? Don’t be stupid.’

  ‘You have. You’ve gone beige.’

  Cal looked down at Ben’s bare arms and laughed. ‘He’s right, you have changed colour. You’ve had a spray tan, haven’t you?’

  Ben felt his cheeks heat and took a sip of beer to hide his face. ‘No. There’s a new sunbed at the gym and I thought I’d give it a go, that’s all. What’s so funny about that?’

  ‘Since when do you do sunbeds? That’s a whole other level of vanity, even for you.’

  Ben shrugged. ‘Missed my holiday tan, didn’t I? I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss over it.’

  ‘New haircut too, right?’ Pete asked.

  ‘Yeah. So?’

  Pete grinned at Cal. ‘Tell you what, if I didn’t know your brother better then I’d think he was going to extra effort for some lass.’

  ‘What, this guy? Surely not,’ Cal said, smirking at his brother.

  Ben scowled at the table. ‘Give it a rest, can you? Let’s just get this menu settled.’

  ‘No one special you’re trying to impress, is there, lad?’ Pete asked, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Don’t talk daft.’

  ‘It’s an interesting thought though,’ Cal said to Pete. ‘Ben with an actual, full-on crush on someone. I’d kind of like to see that.’

  ‘What’s up with you two today?’ Ben demanded. ‘Has all this wedding talk sent you soft? I don’t have a crush on anyone and I’ve got no interest in impressing one particular woman out of the throng, all right? It’s just a bloody tan.’

  ‘All right, mate,’ Cal said, patting his shoulder. ‘No need to be so touchy. You know we’re only winding you up.’

  ‘That’s being in love for you,’ Pete said with a knowing nod to Cal. ‘Rips your nerves to shreds. Trust me as someone who’s done the marriage thing more than his fair share.’

  ‘And the divorce thing more than his fair share.’ Ben finished his pint and stood up. ‘I’ve got to go, Bridie’s coming over with some Sten stuff. Apparently this bloody wedding’s destined to take over my entire life until it’s done with. If you want my opinion on chicken over lamb, it’s that I couldn’t give a toss.’

  ‘What’re you in such a foul mood for?’ Cal demanded.

  ‘I told you, bad night’s sleep. Got a toothache. I’ll see you both later.’

  ‘Mood swings are another sure sign,’ Ben heard Pete whisper to Cal as he marched off in the direction of his flat.

  Ben had never felt more on edge. This would be the first time he’d seen Bridie since he’d overheard Cal and Pete discussing her feelings for him just over a week ago and he’d been losing sleep for days thinking about it. Was he going to be able to act normally around her? Would she be able to tell? Oh God, what if she told him she loved him? She’d be so hurt if he didn’t say it back.

  Obviously he was fond of Bridie. He always had been, despite the games they loved to play: she was one of his oldest friends. He’d missed her a lot when he’d been away; missed matching wits with her, and making her smile all those times she just couldn’t help showing her amusement at something he’d said. He’d thought about her on the long nights sleeping up in the mountains too. Wondered what she was doing, what she was thinking, who she might be with. But love – like, proper, romantic, Cal-and-Hattie-type love? Just the thought of it made him queasy.

  Unless that was love. Could love make you feel sick? Ben had no idea, he’d never felt it before. That could be what the twisty feeling in his tummy was, but it could just as easily be horror, or the lentil dhal he’d had for lunch.

  God, that in itself was pretty pathetic, wasn’t it? He must be the only man this close to thirty who didn’t know the difference between love and lentil dhal.

  Ben shook his head to snap himself out of it as he unlocked the door of his flat. Of course he wasn’t in love. Ridiculous notion. If he wa
s capable of falling in love – and he was far from convinced that was even remotely possible – then why now? And Christ, why her? He’d known any number of sexy, funny, captivating women – known them in both the social and the Biblical sense – who would’ve been more than capable of exciting that emotion in any other heterosexual man, and yet Ben had never felt a flicker of anything other than sweet, uncomplicated lust. And these were women who actually enjoyed his company: who flattered him and made no secret of the fact they found him attractive. Bridie was beautiful, yes, but she was also a huge pain in the arse. It would be insane to be in love with Bridie. Laughable, even.

  Ben let out a laugh as he entered his bedroom, as if to prove his point, but it sounded kind of hollow. He guessed he just wasn’t in a laughing mood.

  He was right though. His feelings were definitely of the friendly variety and nothing more. He wasn’t sure why it had taken him quite so long to come to that conclusion. Then again, that just proved it couldn’t be love, didn’t it? If people were in love, they must know it right away, like a thunderclap. It’d be pretty unmistakeable, surely. The fact Ben had spent so many sleepless nights puzzling over it just meant he’d been right in what he’d told Cal – he didn’t do love. He couldn’t.

  Anyway, where did love lead if you let yourself get sucked into it? Nowhere good. Marriage, monogamy, mortgage, mundanity. A straitjacket, in other words. Love was a slippery slope that ended with the death of your way of life – of adventure, youth and fun. Ben was damned if he’d make that sacrifice. No, not even for Bridie.

  He pulled off his T-shirt and took his favourite smart shirt from the cupboard. He was about to put it on when he stopped.

  Christ, what was he doing? Getting dressed up for her? It wasn’t a date, for fuck’s sake. He wanted to help the poor cow get over it, not taunt her when he knew she had feelings he could never reciprocate. Maybe he couldn’t love her, but he still liked her a hell of a lot and the last thing he wanted was to cause her more pain.

  If he was going to cure her, he needed to make himself less appealing, not more. Ben put the shirt away again and went to rummage in his drawers.