Love Is a State of Mind: Nobody's Life is Perfect
Page 26
I’m home, I say to myself, before I fall immediately asleep.
*
“Good morning, Lovely,” says Ben. “The tea’s gone cold, I’m afraid. I’ll go and get you another one. You were completely unconscious when I came in with it, last night.”
“Sorry Ben. That was rude of me to fall asleep like that.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t take it personally,” and with that, he’s out of bed and off to the kitchen.
He’s soon back with two mugs of tea. He’s wearing nothing but boxer shorts and even through my sleepy haze, I can admire his physique. “What service,” I say, as he hands me a mug.
“I’ve taken the morning off, so I can be with you,” he says, as he gets back into bed. “Put your tea down, come here and give me a cuddle. I’ve missed you.”
I take a quick sip of tea and put it back on the bedside table. Turning to him, I shuffle my body closer to his; we feel like two jig-saw pieces, inter-locking and fitting together.
“How are you now? Less tired?”
“So much better. I couldn’t function last night at all. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t expecting you to be full of beans. I’ve never flown that far, but it must be exhausting. I think it’s worse coming back this way, than going out, isn’t it?”
“Well, it certainly felt like it. I was tired when I got there, but at least I could speak,” I grin.
“But … it was worth it, wasn’t it? Was it everything you’d hoped for?” He puts his lips on mine and we kiss for a long time before I answer.
“It was amazing. There was one big downside, though …”
“Really?” he says.
“Yes … I missed you, Ben. I kept wishing you were with me. I’ve missed this …”
“I love you, Anna,” he says. “I realised that, when you were away. I’m sorry I haven’t said it before, but love is such an over-used word and I wanted to be sure. I couldn’t believe after my disastrous relationship with Grace that I’d found someone else … someone who felt so right.”
“I love you, too Ben. I never thought I’d find someone else, either. David leaving me was the worst thing that has ever happened to me and it made me feel sad, inadequate and old, all rolled into one … I don’t know why I decided to go into the pub that night, it was completely out of character, but if Gaz and I hadn’t gone in … well, I hate to think what would’ve happened. But dear old Gaz introduced me to you … we have him to thank.”
Both of his arms are tight around me now and we kiss as if our life depends on it. The dream I had in the car flashes into my mind – I see David’s smile and feel his hand holding mine, but I block it out. My marriage is gone. Perhaps it had gone a long time before I realised it. The dreamlike car crash was waiting to happen. I loved David but now it’s time to move on and love the man in my arms.
My phone beeps and vibrates on the bedside table, but this time, I ignore it. Whoever it is will ring again – or text or Facebook message me – if it’s important.
Everyone can wait … it’s time for me and Ben, now.
*
A few days later, I’m in M and S, trying to find something nice to wear on our long weekend in Devon we’ve planned, but failing miserably. My phone vibrates and pings.
Message from Ben: Hey, I’ve got an hour between jobs today. Can you meet me in the park for a picnic? You bring the sandwiches, I’ll get a bottle of wine. Ben x
This strikes me as odd as, usually, Ben doesn’t take time off for lunch and he certainly doesn’t drink wine when he’s working. I wonder what’s going on, but I text back:
That’ll be lovely. Need a distraction – can’t find ANYTHING I like! Will make some tuna sandwiches. May even treat you to a bar of chocolate. Love you, Anna xx
It’s so lovely to write Love You. I do love him. I know for sure now.
I walk quickly home, pleased to get away from shopping dilemmas. I make the sandwiches and wrap them in foil, find a couple of chocolate bars and two apples and put them all in a bag. It’s a bit early to leave, but I set off, with camera in hand. When I get to the park, I take some arty shots of flowers and trees for a while and then sit on a bench, waiting for Ben.
I text him: I’m here! On bench, by the pond. See you soon, I hope! xx
He doesn't respond straightaway and I while away the time, reading articles from the BBC and Huffington Post on my phone. Then, it pings.
Message from Ben: If you raise your head from that f***ing phone, you’ll see me!
I look up and for a minute, I can’t see him. He can obviously see me, so he must be near. Then, I see him – only he’s not alone.
Bouncing by his side, eating its lead and generally being naughty, is a black labrador puppy.
Ben waves to me and as he tries to walk towards me (he keeps having to lean down and sort out the lead) I can see a broad grin on his face.
I slowly stand up, leaving everything on the bench and walk towards them. My heart is beating faster than normal and I can’t stop smiling. “Oh my God, Ben … who’s this?” I bend down to stroke the puppy’s head – it immediately puts its front paws on my legs and tries to bite my fingers. “What are you? A boy or a girl?” I bend to inspect and say, “Ah, a boy. You’re gorgeous, aren’t you? Is he yours, Ben?”
“No, he’s not.”
“How come you’ve got him, then?”
“Well … he’s yours … a present from me to you … if you want him, that is?”
He picks him up and the puppy starts to lick his face. Ben wrestles with him and laughs, saying, “Go and do that to your Mum …” and hands him over to me. He licks me too, but then settles into my arms and quietens down.
“There, you see, you have the magic touch. Well … what do you think? Do you want him? I can always take him back …”
“NO … don’t do that! I love him already.” I hold him up to my face again and breathe in the soft, puppy smell of him. I kiss the round top of his head, between his ears. “That’s just so … so … thoughtful of you, Ben. I’ve wanted another dog so badly, but somehow … felt guilty. I didn’t want to ‘replace’ Gaz. But you’ve taken the initiative – how can I possibly resist now?” I laugh. I go up to him and kiss him, the puppy squeezed between us.
“So … you don’t want me to take him back, then?”
“No, I definitely don’t. Where did you find him, anyway?”
“Well, when you were away, I went to a client’s house and there, in the kitchen, was a basketful of black lab pups. I saw it as a sign. I said to the owner that I wanted a boy and there was one left who hadn’t been sold … this little fella. I didn’t say anything to you, as I wanted to do this surprise. I’ve been so excited … I’ve been dying to tell you, ever since. He’s eight weeks old and he’s had all the jabs he needs. He’s yours, my darling Anna, for keeps.”
We go back and sit on the bench. The puppy has settled into the crook of my arm and we sit together, me gently stroking the puppy’s back, Ben with his arm round my shoulders, the sandwiches forgotten, at my side.
“What shall I call him?”
“I don’t know … your choice. I’m guessing you don’t want to call him Gaz?”
“No, no … there will only ever be one Gaz. But maybe something along the same lines … with a football connotation?”
“Wayne?” laughs Ben.
“Definitely not … I don’t think I could call out ‘Wayne’ in the park and keep a straight face. Rooney would be quite cool, though.”
“Alan?” says Ben, smirking. “After Alan Shearer, of course. I’ve always wanted to call a dog Alan … or Keith … or Brian?”
“Hold on … what about Becks? Are you a Becks?” I whisper in the puppy’s ear. “Maybe one day, we could get you a Posh …”
“Yea, I like Becks. It suits him.”
“Okay … Becks, it is. I think he’s fallen asleep completely now. He’s passed out, like I did after the flight. It’s all this excitement …
”
I extricate my arm and Becks sleeps contentedly on my lap, while we eat my rather uninteresting sandwiches and drink wine from plastic cups.
“Here’s to Becks,” I say to Ben, as we touch cups. “And here’s to us. You realise he’s going to become our surrogate child, don’t you?”
“Yea … I’d thought that. Two old idiots, spoiling a dog … but who cares? We’re happy, that’s the main thing!”
As we sit there, talking and laughing, it strikes me that this time, a bench has led to something wonderful. The fateful bench in the rec is best forgotten – the place where this whole saga began. Now, though, here I am, sitting next to the man I love, with a snoring puppy on my lap.
Benches can be happy places, after all.
The Epilogue
The morning started at 6 am and has been a succession of dresses, hair and make-up, champagne, emotions, nerves and laughter, ever since.
Ben and I are staying at the hotel, along with lots of other guests, including, Laura, John, Rocco and Jake. Ben has spent the morning with Marcus, Adam and Daisy, while I’ve been on bride-support duty, with Jane alongside me and Holly’s best friend and only bridesmaid, Fiona.
I’ve been with Holly every step of the way since I came back from Australia – we’ve had our fair share of emotional ups and downs, as you do with any wedding, but on the whole, it’s gone smoothly. She didn’t want all the fuss that brides go in for these days – both she and Jed were completely in agreement about the kind of wedding they wanted: a Christmas wedding in church, followed by a nice meal, and that’s all.
She was adamant there was no need for canapés (‘too expensive’); no need for little favours for the table (‘it’s not a kids’ party’) or themed tables and co-ordinating colours (‘it’s not Hello magazine’). No wedding present lists (‘that just seems presumptuous’); no swanky gimmicks like photo booths, horses and carriages (‘Dad can take me in his car, can’t he?’). No expensive wedding photographer (‘just throwaway cameras for everyone – far nicer to have everyone’s snaps’). No wedding band, just music played from a computer playlist (‘all our favourite songs’.) And certainly no pre-practised first dance (‘if Jed and I did a Dirty Dancing type thing, I would run and jump at him, miss and we’d both fall over in fits of laughter’). They wanted a kind of ‘stripped down’ wedding, where they didn’t get lost in all the detail.
When she finally emerges in all her glory, I’m the proudest mother-of-the-bride … ever. I know I’m biased, but she looks like an angel, in floaty chiffon. Her bouquet is small and perfect – lily of the valleys – her hair, natural, flowing down her back. Her eyes are shining, her skin radiant.
“Dad will be here in a minute. Are you ready?” I say, standing in the hotel bedroom, staring at her, with a silly grin on my face.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she laughs. I look at the heart-shaped gold locket she’s wearing – the ‘something borrowed’ I’ve lent her – it looks perfect. David gave it to me on our wedding day – a day I remember so well and one that I can file in that folder, ‘Happiness’ now.
“Can you just help me on with this blue garter thing?” She hands it to me and sits down carefully, holding out one leg to me. I push it over her shoe and together we manage to get it above her knee. “God, the things we do for tradition …” she says.
“Well, it’ll bring you luck …” says Fiona, as Holly stands up and shakes down her dress.
“Do you know what? I don’t think I need luck, with Jed. He’s the most perfect man …”
“You two are sickening, you really are,” laughs Fiona. “Have you absolutely no qualms?”
“Nope … none,” says Holly. “He’s the one for me. End of. Where’s my champagne?” she laughs.
We all chink glasses and toast Holly’s happiness.
There’s a knock on the door and I go to answer it …and there’s David.
It still comes as a shock when I see him. The man I spent so long with; the man who’s so familiar, but yet who feels separate from me now.
He smiles at me, a shy smile, and putting his hands on my shoulders, kisses me on both cheeks. I haven’t seen him at all since I got back. We’ve emailed each other about the wedding arrangements and I sent them a card when Noah was born, but apart from that, nothing.
The touch of his lips on my cheek, the smell of him, awakens the past for a few seconds. I remember, for some reason, Holly’s christening, when we were such proud parents. We held her in her beautiful christening gown, like a piece of cut-glass that could shatter at any minute. We stood together, promising to protect her.
And now, here we are, standing together again … Holly, in a white bridal gown, moving away from us, down the road into her own future, under the protection of Jed, not us.
Still proud parents, but with a gaping hole between us. “Suzie and the children have gone ahead to the church,” he says. “They’re so excited. Gemma’s holding a bag of confetti – she can’t wait to throw it.”
David walks into the room and seeing his daughter, a look of wonder lights up his face.
“Holly, you look so … beautiful … so … grown up.” He goes slowly towards her and kisses her cheek. “I’m such a proud Dad,” he says.
She takes his hands.
He turns back to me, smiling, his eyes shining with love, and suddenly, the chasm between us shrinks.
I see the man I loved … still love.
“Doesn’t she look … amazing, Anna?” he says. “Our daughter. Our wonderful daughter.”
I go over to him and put my arm through his. “We were clever, weren’t we David, making her?”
“We certainly were … we certainly were,” he says and he takes my hand, squeezing it, as he always used to do.
THE END
Other work by the Author
If you enjoyed this book, why not try Sarah Catherine Knights’ other books:
Aphrodite’s Child and its sequel, Now Is All There Is
Available at www.amazon.co.uk
Aphrodite’s Child
When her RAF husband is posted to Cyprus for three years, Emily Blackwell jumps at the opportunity to escape her cosy life in the Cotswolds. Embracing everything the island has to offer, she reinvents herself, only to find that this new life brings its own heartache and tragedy. In a modern take on the myth of Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, Emily’s experiences on Cyprus change her, and she comes to questions everything she thought she knew about herself and her former existence.
But the choices she makes will affect not only her, but everyone she loves …
Now Is All There Is
In the sequel to the hugely popular, Aphrodite’s Child, Emily Blackwell returns to Cyprus to try to mend her broken marriage. She befriends and helps Beth, a young airmen’s wife, whose own life is in turmoil.
Their paths lead them back to England, where they meet again in the rugged surfing world of North Cornwall. Just as the Mediterranean influenced her life in Cyprus, so too does the Atlantic cast its spell over Emily’s fortunes. Her tangled life eventually implodes and she has to face a drama that Fate has planned for her all along.
But she finds that her Destiny is not written in the stars. It’s within herself…
www.sarahcatherineknights.com
Twitter: @Sarahknights
Facebook: www.facebook.com/sarahcatherineknights
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Table of Contents
Love is a State of Mind
Copyright and Publishing information
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twe
lve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Other work by the Author