The Art of Keeping Faith

by Anna Bloom

  “Decaf?” she comments as I shove some bags into two mismatched mugs.

  Oh, rubbish.

  “Yes it’s the new health kick I am on. This body is a temple and all that.”

  “It doesn’t look like a temple. You look pudgy, Dharling.”

  Oh, my God. This woman!

  “This,” I wave my hand at her. “This is why I don’t talk to you about anything, you never have a single nice thing to say to me, ever.” I am shouting despite the fact she is only about five inches away.

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yes it is! You would rather talk wedding plans with a complete stranger than try and be civil with me.”

  “Dharling, Meredith is not a stranger. She is nearly family.”

  Good lord, I am going to explode.

  “Not bloody Meredith, Mother! I am talking about Annabelle, or whatever her bloody name is!”

  “Delilah, who exactly do you want me to talk to? Your Dad? He is always at work. Tristan? He is always off being a smug bugger somewhere. You? You, cannot even tell me you are pregnant when you are standing right in front of me blatantly so.”

  This statement completely takes the wind out of my sails.

  “What?”

  “Lilah, seriously, I am your Mother. Do you honestly think I cannot tell?”

  “Can you really?” I have switched to my Lilah child voice, but in the circumstances I think it is warranted

  She steps toward me and holds her arms open. For a moment I just stare, unsure what it is that she is actually trying to do. Then she grabs me and pulls me into her arms and it dawns on me that my mother is trying to hug me.

  In a flash my defences are down, and I start to snivel and snot all over her silk blouse.

  She smoothes my hair and kisses the top of my head.

  “Come on, Lilah. Let’s get that cup of tea and you can tell me all about what pickle you are in this time and what on earth has happened. We can try and get it sorted together.”

  I start to sob even louder.

  “I did such a bad thing, Mum. I shouted so much he never wants to come back home.”

  “It’s okay. It can be fixed.”

  “No, it can’t, I can’t even find him.”

  “We will, we will most definitely find him and get this hideous mess sorted.”

  She is so right. This is a hideous mess. I have created a gigantic, hideous mess of my life.

  I shuffle over to the cupboard and get out a bottle of gin.

  “It’s okay, Mum, I can do you a gin.”

  She takes the bottle firmly out of my hand and walks to the sink pouring it down the drain. I watch in amazement.

  “I don’t want it, Lilah.”

  “But, why?”

  “Because of you and because of that.” She points at my tummy that’s peeking from under my too small T-shirt.”

  I just start to cry even harder.

  Later

  Mum’s convinced me to do something truly terrifying. I just don’t know if I’m brave enough.

  Ring Ben’s mum.

  I have no idea what to say. But if I know Ben at all, I know he would never not be in contact with his mum. Me, yes, apparently. Tristan and our friends, yes. But his mum, never.

  Mum reckons she is the only chance I have of finding him and telling him the truth. I just don’t know that if after all these months of ignoring my messages whether he even wants to hear the truth.

  Only one way to find out. Here it goes.

  The Most Painful Conversation. Ever

  Okay not as painful as the one that necessitated this one; but it was pretty damn close.

  Ring, ring. Ring, ring.

  Please don’t pick up, just let me leave a humble voicemail.

  “Lilah, is that you?”

  Damn it.

  “Uh, yeah. Um, hi, Bev.”

  “Oh, Lilah, I am so pleased to speak to you. I thought I was never going to hear from you again.”

  “Really? What never, ever again, like ever?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Oh. Really ever?”

  “Ben said it was over. He came home after Easter and told me what had happened, Lilah I am so very sorry about what you went through. He blames himself. He was a wreck, kept saying that he knew you were never going to forgive him and that he would never forgive himself either.”

  Shmuck of the year award goes to me.

  “Oh, yeah. Um …”

  I have no idea what to say. I physically cannot lie anymore.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Kind of, well actually yes. Sorry, I mean no.”

  “Yes or no, Lilah?”

  Silence.

  “That would be a no.”

  Oh God, the tears are building, I can feel the tide getting higher and higher, ready to flood.

  “I thought so,” she says with all her mummy knowledge that I know I am never going to be able to learn.

  Shit.

  “So you saw Ben, then?” This is the first confirmed sighting of him I’ve had since he left home.

  Shit. Home.

  “Yeah he came in and picked up some stuff. I made him spend the night when I saw the state he was in. When I woke up the next day he was gone again. He left his phone on the kitchen counter. I’ve only heard from him once since. Have you?”

  “No, Bev, that’s kind of why I am ringing, I am trying to find him.”

  What did she say?

  “Sorry what do you mean he left his phone?”

  “I mean he left it. It took him two weeks to text me from a different number, and that message just said he wanted to be by himself. Why do you need to speak to him so urgently?”

  Tears slide down my face. He hasn’t been ignoring my texts. Relief floods through me as if through a broken dam. This is closely followed by me registering her exact words. “He said he wanted to be by himself.” My stomach squeezes uncomfortably as I realise what this means. He does not want to hear from me after all. All the messages I have sent. He did not want to receive them.

  Bev is still talking to me and I try to focus on her words, “Lilah, are you still there? Why do you need to speak to him so urgently?”

  I decide to dodge the question.

  “So when you say the state he was in, what do you actually mean?”

  I may not want to know the answer.

  “He was completely devastated. He would not tell me what had happened exactly, other than to tell me that he felt he could not put you through any more and that you had lost the baby and it was all his fault. He seemed to think everything was very ironic and that he was cursed to repeat history. That he left the States thinking that one thing was going to happen but it never did and that he was now left with nothing.”

  Yep, I am not sure I needed to know that answer.

  Or maybe I did.

  What did he mean he was going to repeat history? I am the only one that knows that is going to happen, and it is my curse, not his. My curse to repeat endless cycles of things that have happened before.

  That’s my thing.

  “Oh.” That is it. All I have to say.

  “What’s going on, Lilah? You did not really want to break up with him, did you? You love him, don’t you? You guys are meant for each other.”

  “I didn’t mean it, Bev. I was hurt you know, everything has been so hard, harder than I thought it would be. That is saying something, considering a year ago I was pretty sure that I would not be able to stay with him. All I have done is proved that to myself.”

  “I’m sorry, Lilah.”

  She is sniffing a bit and the noise threatens to open up my own floodgates.

  “So, you don’t know where he is?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Bev, if you speak to him will you tell him that I need to talk to him, that I have something to say but I need to do it in person.”

  “What is it?”

  “Beverley!”

  “Oh, okay, don’t tell me. D
o you want his number then? Just in case you kids decide to do something crazy and try and call each other,” she sighs.

  “Do you think he will mind me having it?” Hope glimmers in my heart again.

  “Well it’s you, and Ben, and whilst you two have some serious communication issue. I am sure it will all end up okay. I am sure you can do it.”

  “What?”

  “I am sure you can fix everything. Find him. Fix it. Fix each other. Do whatever you need to do. You know once he told me a long time ago before you guys met properly that he knew you were the girl that was going to save him.”

  No, I didn’t know that.

  That’s it. The floodgates are open and I start to sob. “I’m sorry, I failed,” I wail.

  “Lilah,” she is sobbing, too.

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t fail, you did save him, he just never bloody told you, the idiot.”

  I hang up the phone and lay on my bed with Kit circling my head. I can’t remember the last time I fed him but I am pretty sure Tristan is his main caregiver now.

  I reach out to stroke him, while with my other hand I scroll desperately through Ben’s iPod to find “Hey There, Delilah.”

  The first time I heard him sing this I thought he had saved me. Saved me from a life I hated and a future I did not want.

  Now I find out that somehow I was the one to save him too. I know I have to find him so I can tell him how grateful I am that we were able to rescue each other.

  Taylor Swift is singing “Innocent,” and right now I feel like my innocence is in tatters. I am hanging by a thread to what little remaining sanity I have left.

  Me:

  There is no text. I have nothing left to say.

  15th June

  “I’m going to bed, this is rubbish and I have an exam in the morning,” I announce to the room.

  “Ugh.” Is all I get back, but I think they may all be pissed. We went out for a pub lunch earlier, where I demolished an entire carvery. We have been mooching about the flat the rest of the day, me with just my knickers and a too small T-shirt on because I can no longer do up my jeans and even my stretchy yoga pants are uncomfortable.

  We are all watching the Isle of Wight Festival wind up but I am over it.

  “You coming, Kit?” I call to the cat sitting on Tristan’s lap. Kit and I have reached a new point in our relationship, where he does seem to acknowledge that I am his owner and will sit on me from time to time. But his preference is still for Tristan—possibly because he is the only one who feeds him.

  Kit just blinks at me and then settles himself back down on Tristan’s lap.

  Bloody cat.

  I am just snuggling down under my duvet with my battered copy of Pride and Prejudice when I hear my name being screeched from the lounge.

  “Lilah, Lilah, Lilah come quick!”

  I automatically think that Meredith has set fire to the kitchen again trying to make toast and dash out of bed and into the front room.

  Beth is jumping up and down and Meredith is, well, Meredith looks like she is having some kind of fit.

  Instead of pointing to the kitchen as I expect they are pointing at the telly.

  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.”