The Art of Keeping Faith

by Anna Bloom

  “Lilah, wake up. You are going to be late for class again.”

  Meredith is tugging at my duvet but I am not letting it go. It must be six or something ridiculous.

  “I’ve got ages,” I mumble into my pillow. Kit reaches a paw out and touches my cheek in agreement.

  “It’s eight-thirty, are you coming or not?”

  I sit bolt upright.

  “Eight-thirty? It can’t be. I have only just got to sleep.”

  Meredith looks at me in confusion.

  “No you haven’t. You fell asleep at quarter to nine on the sofa and Tristan had to carry you to bed.”

  “Oh. I don’t remember that at all.”

  “You were comatose. Did you drink yesterday?”

  “Nope, not that I remember.”

  She gives a little shrug. “Are you coming or not?”

  I give a groan and start to get up. “Yeah, yeah, give me ten and I will drive us.”

  Fifteen minutes later we are just heading out the door.

  “Meredith, did I even go to Uni yesterday?”

  She looks at me her face crinkled in a frown.

  “Yes, we had History on Screen remember; you told Pilchard Pritchard that you thought Spartacus was a pile of crud.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t drink yesterday?”

  “Pretty sure,” I say although I am not sure at all. I can’t remember a single thing I did yesterday.

  “Maybe Richard slipped you a Rohipnal.”

  “Very bloody funny.”

  She thinks it is. She giggles the whole way to the car and then the whole drive to campus.

  7th March

  Midnight

  “Hey, sleepy head, how are you?” Ben chuckles down the phone.

  “I’m not asleep, I just answered the phone, didn’t I?” I may be grumpy though.

  Ben laughs a little louder. I have no idea why.

  “For the first time this week. I was beginning to think you were ignoring me?”

  “I haven’t heard from you all week?” I grouch in return.

  “Lilah, I’ve called, has no one bothered to tell you? I’ve rung every night. Last night I was so worried I ended up calling Tristan on his mobile. He told me you were comatose and had been since half six. What’s going on? Are you sick again?”

  “No, he didn’t tell me,” I say glancing over onto my bedside table and the phone cradle.

  Ah. There it is. One of Tristan’s Post-it’s. I’m not your secretary. Wake up!

  Very bloody funny.

  “So are you sick? You sound a bit distracted.”

  I settle back down under the duvet. “No, I’m all good, sorry I have not spoken to you all week. It has been a bit weird.”

  “Weird how?”

  “I keep sleeping, and can’t remember anything.”

  “You must be coming down with the flu again.”

  I think about this for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. I feel okay when I am awake doing stuff. I know what it is!”

  “What’s that, my love?” he asks making my stomach take a little dive.

  “It was my mother, I had to go through a whole visit to a bridal department without the aid of gin. It’s made me bloody ill with stress.”

  Ben chuckles and I can hear him light a cigarette.

  Ooh, cigarette. Have I even had one today? I sit up and light one for myself, but one puff makes me stub it back out again. It tastes like ash and not at all pleasant.

  That’s a revelation. Cigarettes are completely disgusting.

  “Did Meredith find a dress?” asks Ben, completely oblivious to my cigarette epiphany.

  “Uh, yeah. She went for the one you picked.”

  “That’s because I am a style guru.”

  It’s my turn to laugh, Ben is happiest in sweat pants and an old T-shirt. That’s when I am happiest, too, because he looks shit hot in them.

  “Well Tristan was not pleased, guess how much?”

  “Grand?”

  “Nope. Two and a half.”

  Ben lets out a low whistle. “I have expensive taste obviously.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I am a bit gutted actually. I would have liked you to have that one.”

  What?

  “What do you mean?”

  He chuckles again. “Nothing, Lilah, don’t freak out.”

  “Okay,” I say, completely freaking out.

  “How’s Kit?” he asks, changing the subject.

  “Liking me at the moment, but I doubt it will last.”

  Ben chuckles some more. “Listen, Lilah. I am glad I have managed to get hold of you today,”

  Something about his tone makes my stomach tighten and not in the good way of a few moments ago.

  Oh God, there is going to be another picture.

  “What?”

  “Don’t worry, I just wanted to warn you that we are going to be doing a lot of travelling the next few weeks, a last push before we come back to the UK, so I may not be able to call that much. I will try to text when I can. Screw the phone bills.”

  “Oh, is that all? Okay!”

  “Stop being paranoid.”

  “Okay,” I say, but don’t necessarily mean it.

  “Have you got to go? It’s very late and you have class in the morning.”

  I look at the time. Twelve-thirty. Damn it.

  “Yeah, I guess. I will speak to you when you can,” I say. I don’t want the call to end, not if it is going to be indefinite when we next talk.

  “Lilah, I will ring you in a few days. All I meant is that I won’t be able to call as much as I have been.”

  “I didn’t know you had been!”

  “I know! The one time I can and you are asleep, what are the chances!”

  What are the chances?

  “Okay. Love you, Ben.”

  “Love you, Lilah.”

  Then I hang up the phone and wait for the blackness to descend like it has the last few nights.

  Except it doesn’t.

  I am restless and unsettled and end up tidying my room instead.

  Meredith finds me bleaching the bathroom four hours later.

  5.30 p.m.

  “Lilah, what on earth? Are you okay?”

  It’s Richard, he is peering at me over the top of my study desk.

  “N-o-o.” I stutter. I am blowing snot bubbles everywhere.

  “Why are you crying in the library? Have you been watching Gladiator again?”

  Oh, Gladiator.

  My hiccup tears turn to full on sobs.

  “N-o. I a-m j-u-s-t s-o-o-o t-i-r-ed.” I say wiping snot over my face.

  He looks at his watch. “Fancy going to grab a pizza and then watching a movie at yours?”

  “T-h-a-n-k y-o-u,” I say, offering him a watery smile.

  I don’t know why I am crying in the library. I was fine after class. I walked across campus and waved Meredith a cheery goodbye. I got to the top of the stairs at the History floor and then started to cry. I have not been able to stop since.

  Pizza and a movie sounds good. That will be a very pleasant way to spend the evening.

  8th March

  Work

  I feel like death. I woke up at seven in my own bed, but I don’t remember getting there. I still had all my clothes on. At first I thought that was a little odd, until I sat up and found a note from Richard (slightly chewed by Kit) on the end of the bed.

  Lilah, you fell asleep five minutes into the movie so I put you in bed. Hope you feel better, have a good weekend.

  I don’t feel better. I feel odd.

  Now Baz is looking at me expectantly. He has slept on my business idea for a week and is now watching my reaction as he tells me he thinks it is wonderful and we should go for it.

  “That’s great, Baz,” I tell him.

  “You don’t sound it,” he grumbles.

  I make my smile a little wider.

  “It is great. Sorry I have just
had a bit of a big week.” It wasn’t that big but I feel like it should have been.

  “Shall we have a beer to celebrate?”

  “Yeah, sure. Why not?” I shrug.

  Baz passes me a cold Bud out of the fridge. He must have been planning our celebration as we very rarely have cold beers.

  I take one sip and then spit it out. “It’s off,” I tell him handing him the bottle back.

  He takes a sip of his own and then of mine.

  “No, it’s not. Bud always tastes like that and you’ve never complained before.”

  “It has never tasted like piss before.”

  “Well I beg to differ but it has.”

  “Whatever,” I say grabbing the bottle and drinking some more down.

  I am sure if I can just get it to go down it will make me feel much better.

  5.00 p.m.

  Beth, Jayne, Meredith and I are at the pub that smells of old farts. We are meeting to help Meredith talk through her wedding venue options. I have tried to tell her I think this is a conversation she should have with Tristan, but she wants to sort out what she wants first before talking to him about it.

  “That’s odd,” I tell her as I stare at the wine in my glass. I think I may have had a few too many Buds at work, my head feels all fluffy.

  “It’s not odd. I just need to work out what I want and then I can go about convincing him it’s what he wants to.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Beth snorts her wine. “Well, I’d go simple and refined,” she says which makes us all laugh, even me with my fuzzy head.

  “I’d go big and flash,” Jayne adds her two bobs worth.

  “What do you want?” I ask Meredith as I eye the wine in my glass some more.

  She gives a sigh and I take the break in conversation to take a sip of the cold wine.

  “It’s off,” I announce.

  Meredith frowns at me. “Lilah, it is not bloody off. You think everything tastes off at the moment.”

  I can’t argue with that. Everything has a very strange metallic ring to it, like I have been sucking on a penny.

  “So anyway, what sort of wedding do you, Meredith, not my mother, want?” I prompt her again.

  “I don’t want to say, it’s pathetic.”

  We all do that group girl thing where we go “Ah, no it won’t be,” at the same time. I lean over and pat her hand encouragingly.

  “I want to get married at the local church and then walk to the pub across the road for sausages and mash,” she tells us.

  “That is so romantic,” Jayne sighs.

  Meredith turns to me. “What do you think, Lil, you are the head bridesmaid?”

  “I-t-h-i-n-k- t-h-a-t- s-o-u-n-d-s l-o-v-e-l-y,” I tell her before making that odd donkey noise and blowing snot bubbles.

  9th March

  Too much wine!

  Too much wine = bad

  A glance at my phone confirms my worst fears. Drunk texting.

  Ben: Are you still crying?

  Me: Maybe. x

  Ben: Why?

  Me: Their wedding sounds so romantic I am jealous.

  Ben: Don’t be jealous

  Me: But they r having sausages and mash. I want sausages and mash

  Ben: What now? ;-)

  Me: No. At my wedding

  Nothing back. Unsurprisingly Ben did not feel the need to comment back to his drunk girlfriend about her imaginary wedding.

  Oh God. He is going to think I want him to propose just so I can have a bloody sausages and mash reception.

  Kill me, please. It will help my headache.

  11.30 p.m.

  Ben: That’s ok we can have hotdogs and chips. xxx

  What does that mean? Can’t think now, I feel the distinct need to clean something.

  13th March

  It’s official. I have a nasty sleeping bug. I haven’t been to the doctors, but I fell asleep during a lecture today. That has never happened before, no matter how hung over I’ve been or how little sleep I have had. I have never, ever fallen asleep during a lecture and then stayed asleep after the lecturer has slammed a heavy book by my head to try and wake me up.

  It’s a first.

  Meredith was also asleep during the lecture but that is because she went to The Fez last night. I didn’t hear Beth and Jayne arriving at our place. I didn’t hear them getting ready and I didn’t hear Meredith get home and fall over my backpack that I had abandoned by the door after class yesterday.

  15th March

  I’ve slept the whole week. This is ridiculous, even Tristan the Arse has noticed and commented now.

  I haven’t heard from Ben, although I know Baz has. Baz has had lots of promotional stuff done for the new business venture, and all of it has the Sound Box logo on it. I asked him at work today if Sound Box were definitely okay with that sort of affiliation but he assured me he had spoken to Ben and that it was all cool.

  I bit back tears when I heard he had spoken to Ben when I hadn’t. I know it’s silly. Ben told me very clearly that he was going to be really busy, but we have only had sporadic sober text messages all week and it is starting to drag a little.

  Meredith and Tristan are out tonight so I am going to spend some quality time in front of the telly watching some of my shit instead of theirs.

  I’m even making popcorn.

  Later

  Popcorn’s off.

  Rubbish.

  Even later

  The phone is ringing, I must have fallen asleep but the sound of the ring jogs me out of my coma and I dash to my room to grab the cordless phone.

  “Hello?”

  “So you never officially said yes or no to the hotdog and chips idea.”

  I smile a little and sink onto my bed.

  “I was wondering where you were,” I tell Ben.

  “Sorry,” he says as I hear him take a drag of his cigarette.

  Oooh, cigarette? Oh what’s the bloody point? That will probably be off, too.

  “I’ve missed you. Have you still got your sleepy bug?”

  “Yes, it is very weird. Hold on, why are you calling on a Saturday night, shouldn’t you be on stage.”

  “Going to be in about two minutes, I just wanted to tell you I miss you.”

  Tears sting my eyes again. “Ben, I miss you too.”

  “Get some sleep, Lilah.”

  “Very funny. Have a good gig.”

  “Oh we will, they love us.”

  Yes I am sure they do.

  “Well, I love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  “Night, Ben.”

  “Night, Lilah.”

  He may be thousands of miles away, but he still knows just the right things to say to me, and that is one of the reasons why I do completely love him.

  17th March

  Professor Pilchard is saying something, I am sure it is very, very interesting; I just can’t hear it over the ringing in my ears. There is a buzzing in my ears which is leading me to believe that I may have a bee hive stuck in there.

  It’s March, and bloody freezing, but I am sitting in the lecture hall sweating and I have a rather bad feeling that I may have a tummy bug.

  I have only ever felt like this when it has been followed by two days shitting through the eye of a needle.

  Saying that, I am a bit plump again, so a tummy bug will not be all bad news.

  “Lilah, what do you think?” Pilchard turns to me expectantly.

  I think. BZZZZ, BZZZZ, BZZZZ.

  Nope, it’s no good. I am going to be sick. Dashing out of the room as fast as I can, I’m lucky enough to just about reach a waste paper basket in the hallway before I bring up my morning toast and coffee.