by Heidi Swain
Typical, I thought.
‘But as the days went on and I waited for her to come back, the idea began to grow on me. I mean, I was in love with the girl, wasn’t I? Yes, it was sooner than I expected but there were worse things to be than a father.’
I nodded and retracted my uncharitable thought, but didn’t say anything.
‘Anyway she came back looking even paler and more tired than ever. I looked after her. Took her home and put her to bed. She agreed to take a week off work and that seemed to help. Every day she looked better and grew stronger and all the time I waited for her to tell me.’
‘And did she?’ I couldn’t see where any of what he was telling me was heading now.
‘The evening before she went back to work I couldn’t stand it any more so I showed her the pregnancy test. I told her not to worry, that I was pleased, that I would support her and the baby.’
‘What did she say?’ I asked, leaning forward in my chair.
‘She told me she hadn’t been on a business trip. She’d checked into a clinic and had an abortion.’
‘Oh god,’ I gasped, ‘how could she? How could she do that?’
Ben shook his head.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh Ben, I’m so sorry.’
‘I told myself that day,’ he continued bitterly, ‘that I would never trust another woman again, that I would never love another woman again and I hate her for that. I hate her for taking the possibility of loving someone again away from me.’ I didn’t say anything, but I knew exactly how he felt. My relationship turned car crash with Giles had ruined love and trust for me too. My coffee was cold when I reached for the mug and I put it back down again. Ben was sitting with his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking. I moved to the sofa and took one of his hands and kissed it. This was doubtless what he meant about having regrets. He was probably thinking that he should have been a father by now, that he should have had a family of his own.
When he finally looked up his expression was utterly forlorn but his skin was seductively warm, the smell of him masculine and desirable. Without speaking, without thinking we moved together and began to kiss, our bodies entwined on the sofa. I moaned and arched my back to meet him as he hungrily tore at the buttons on my shirt. I wrapped my legs around his back, pulling him hard down on to me. I was desperate to feel all of him, to shut out the rest of the world and give in to desire. In that moment I wasn’t looking for love and tenderness; I just wanted to feel taken over, if only for a while.
‘No,’ Ben gasped, pushing me away, ‘we can’t. Not like this.’
I tried to kiss him again, but he pulled further away.
‘Lizzie, we can’t. We’d be doing it for all the wrong reasons. I think more of you than that.’
The fragile bubble of intensity that had surrounded us burst and along with it our moment of spontaneous passion. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move. I just watched him walk away.
I didn’t go down to the Café the next morning. I knew Ruby was coming in early to help Jemma so there was no need for me to put in an appearance until mid-morning when the rush would begin. I told myself I could begin planning the next sewing session, but what I actually did was wander aimlessly from room to room thinking about Ben and everything he’d told me.
It was little wonder he wasn’t the life and soul of the party. He probably spent most of his days with one eye on the calendar trying to work out exactly when he should have become a father. I couldn’t imagine why any girl would do that to him. I mean, it wasn’t as if it was some one-night stand that had resulted in her pregnancy. From what I could gather they were living together as a couple, so why would she do that? On what planet did she think her actions were acceptable? Ultimately of course the final decision would have been hers, but surely Ben had a right to know, surely he deserved the chance to offer an opinion?
I couldn’t get our feverish embrace out of my mind either. We had been drawn together out of sympathy, a mutual understanding of what each of us had endured in the name of love over the last few months, but those kisses, the lust his hands awoke in me meant much more than a quick sympathy fumble.
‘Can I come in?’
It was Jemma and she already had.
‘Are you OK?’ she asked, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. ‘Only, you’ve normally put in an appearance by now.’
She stopped suddenly, her eyebrows raised.
‘Oh,’ she smirked, ‘feeling a bit tired, are we?’
‘I didn’t sleep particularly well, but what do you mean?’
‘Haven’t you looked in a mirror this morning?’
I frowned and crossed the room to look at my reflection in the mirror hanging above the fireplace.
‘Or maybe you have,’ she giggled, ‘and that’s the reason why you haven’t come down. I could be mistaken,’ she concluded smugly, ‘but that to me looks very much like the kind of raw skin you’d get from snogging someone who sports a fine crop of facial hair!’
She was right and I was mortified. My neck and chin looked red raw. I cursed Ben and his beard. There could be no denying what had happened after Jemma and Tom left us alone now. I was just about to try to find something to say that would explain my tell-tale appearance when I heard another set of feet thundering up the stairs.
Ben stopped in the doorway panting and red-faced.
‘Don’t mind me,’ Jemma laughed, backing out of the room. ‘I’m just popping down to the chemist to get Lizzie some calamine. See you later.’
‘What was that about?’ Ben frowned. ‘Are you hurt?’
I turned to face him.
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘sorry about that, occupational hazard I guess. You’re the first girl I’ve kissed since – well, let’s just say – since I started growing it. I wasn’t sure what the impact would be. Does it hurt?’
‘Don’t worry about my face,’ I told him, brushing aside his concern in my eagerness to talk, ‘look, about what happened.’
Ben shook his head looking embarrassed.
‘I’m really sorry about everything,’ he interrupted, ‘I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the shock of telling you everything, I dunno.’
Clearly he regretted what had passed between us and although I was disappointed, I was still determined to be honest with him. At around three that morning I had decided that I needed to explain the truth behind my London trip and wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. I knew I didn’t have to, but I didn’t want there to be any confusion or doubt over my commitment to the Cherry Tree.
‘Have you got time for a coffee?’ I asked.
Ben gave his trademark shrug and I went to fill the kettle.
‘Let’s take this down to the garden, shall we?’ I suggested, passing him a tray loaded with the coffee pot, mugs and milk jug.
The spring day was bright and breezy and the air refreshing but warm with the promise of increased heat to come. We sat under the cherry tree with our backs to the Café, safe from prying eyes and ears.
‘Before we even get into what happened last night,’ I ventured, ‘I want to talk to you about my London trip.’
Ben finished pouring the coffee and passed me my mug.
‘It wasn’t just about the Café was it?’ he said. ‘I didn’t think it was.’
I could already feel my face beginning to colour with shame but I was desperate to completely clear the air that for some reason had been tainted ever since we first met.
I didn’t know if our moment of passion on the sofa would ever lead to anything more but I had to admit, if only to myself, that I still liked Ben a lot and that being honest with him was paramount. My relationship with Giles had been shrouded in trickery, secrecy and lies from the outset and look how that had turned out. I couldn’t put myself through that kind of deception again.
‘No,’ I said, ‘it wasn’t just about the Café, although in my defence I did learn a lot the morning I spent with my contact Deborah.’
‘OK,’ I said, taking a deep breath. ‘Before the Café launch I started getting these calls to my mobile. I never answered them and I didn’t recognise the number but I thought—’
‘You thought it might be Giles,’ Ben interrupted.
‘Yes,’ I admitted, ‘I thought it might be Giles.’
‘So you went to London to find out.’
‘So I went to London to find out.’
‘And was it Giles?’ he demanded bluntly.
‘If you would just let me explain without interrupting!’ I chastised.
Ben lifted his hands in surrender, picked up his mug and sat back in his seat.
‘No,’ I said, ‘it wasn’t Giles.’
Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t say anything.
‘It was Natasha,’ I continued, ‘Giles’s fiancée.’
‘How did you find that out?’ Ben rumbled, his vow of silence quickly forgotten as his voice thundered around the garden. ‘How can you be sure it was her?’
‘Henry, my old boss, recognised the number,’ I explained. ‘When I told him the dates of when the calls came through, he told me that during that time Giles had gone AWOL.’
‘So?’
‘So I guess Natasha assumed he might have been with me. It was only a couple of weeks before their wedding and he already had a track record for disappearing at inopportune moments, hadn’t he? I mean, a week before their original wedding date was when he hooked up with me the first time.’
‘Did he go back?’ Ben demanded. ‘Did he turn up?’
‘Yes,’ I said, unnerved by Ben’s almost explosive anger. ‘They were on their honeymoon when I stayed with Henry. No one knew where Giles had disappeared to, but Natasha forgave him and they were married as planned.’
Ben banged his mug back on the tray and quickly stood up. I looked up at him, my hand shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun. Distractedly he ran his hands through his hair. For a moment I thought he was going to ask how I felt but his expression suggested otherwise.
‘I can’t believe you cared enough to find out,’ he said, staring down at me sternly. He looked repulsed by what I had done. ‘After everything he put you through.’
‘Neither can I,’ I swallowed, ‘I let my heart rule my head; it was a moment of weakness.’
‘And if it had have been him, then what?’ Ben asked sharply.
I resented his judgemental tone and stood to face him.
‘I don’t know,’ I lied, thinking of my silly plan to lure Giles back to Wynbridge. ‘What would you have done if you thought your girlfriend had been trying to get in touch with you?’ I snapped. ‘Could you have dismissed her so easily? Would you have listened to your heart, or don’t you have one?’
Ben’s expression was unforgettable and I knew instantly that I had gone too far.
‘Sorry,’ I mumbled, ‘I had no right to say that.’
Ben said nothing.
‘I really am sorry,’ I said again.
Jemma had invited me to lunch the next day and I was hoping to see Ben and apologise again for my despicable comment. Tom’s mum Maureen had also been invited and the plan was to have an afternoon off from the Café but I reckoned it would be less than half an hour before the conversation took its natural course and led us back through the door.
‘Can you help Ella lay the table?’ Tom asked as soon as I arrived. ‘She can’t manage on her own but she won’t let me help.’
‘He’s in her bad books again,’ Jemma smiled, cuffing him playfully with the oven gloves.
‘Not another row about a canine companion, is it?’
‘Yes,’ said Tom wearily, ‘she’s trying to use the fact that we’re busy with work and the Café as leverage now.’
‘But surely she understands there’s no one here all day to look after a dog?’
‘Nope, according to Ella a dog would fill the gap in her life that her working parents can no longer fill.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I see.’
I took the proffered basket of cutlery and headed into the dining room to help my wayward goddaughter.
‘Did you have a dog when you were little?’ was her opening gambit.
‘Nope, sorry,’ I said, ‘you’re out of luck trying me. I didn’t have so much as a goldfish.’
‘How come?’
‘Because pets are smelly, noisy, messy things,’ I told her.
‘No they’re not!’
‘I know that,’ I said, ‘but that’s what my mum always used to say.’
Ella didn’t say anything else. Clearly I wasn’t worth investing any more time in.
‘Hang on, chick, you haven’t laid enough places,’ I told her as I counted the haphazardly laid placemats. ‘We’re one short.’
‘No we’re not!’ Ella scowled, marching around the table tapping every setting and announcing who it belonged to.
‘You’ve missed Ben out,’ I said, ‘or has he been naughty and has to eat in his room?’
‘He’s not here.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘OK.’
‘He’s gone to Spain,’ Ella announced.
‘Of course he hasn’t,’ I laughed, thinking Ella had misunderstood. She had a reputation for misinterpreting information gleaned whilst eavesdropping.
‘He has,’ she insisted, pouting and folding her arms. ‘Daddy took him to the airport last night. Didn’t you, Daddy?’ she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes at her father who had just come in with assorted plates and bowls.
‘Didn’t Daddy what?’ he asked hesitantly.
‘Take Ben to the airport, of course!’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I did.’
‘There!’ said Ella. ‘I told you, Lizzie, he’s gone to Spain.’
I didn’t know what to say. I stood and stared at the pair of them, the cutlery I was supposed to be setting frozen in midair. Suddenly I felt very hot, my heart was hammering and I could feel hot stinging tears pricking the back of my eyes.
Why hadn’t he told me?
‘He’s gone to stay with his dad,’ Tom frowned. ‘Surely he told you? He said he was going to tell you.’
I shook my head.
‘He said he had some stuff to think through, that he needed a bit of space to come to terms with a few things.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I smiled.
Tom opened his mouth to say something else but I cut him off.
‘It really doesn’t matter,’ I said again but rather too brightly this time, ‘I’m not his keeper. It’s not up to me whether he stays or goes.’
I began carefully laying out the cutlery again and Tom bent down and scooped Ella up in his arms.
‘Come on,’ he said, jiggling her up and down and giving me a sidelong glance, ‘come and be my lookout for Nanny Maureen.’
Chapter 16
I knew I had no real reason to resent Ben leaving, that there was nothing real, nothing tangible between us that meant he had to stay, but nonetheless his disappearance wormed its way into my ego and steadily chipped away at my already fragile self-cnfidence. Frustratingly his absence from the pub in the evenings also took the edge off my willingness to carry on with my shifts and, coupled with my desire to focus on the sewing courses, it wasn’t many days after he went that I made my excuses and resigned.
‘We’re really sorry to see you go,’ Evelyn told me as we cleared away after my last shift, ‘but I’m pleased about the Café. It’s good that you and Jemma have found a way to realise your dreams. Too many people forget what they started out wanting or lose faith and give up. I’m really proud of you, Lizzie. You’ve both worked really hard and Tom, of course. I hope it’s a huge success for all of you.’
‘Thanks, Evelyn,’ I smiled, ‘so do I.’
As Deborah suggested, I had signed up to an online small business start-up course and told myself, as I worked steadily through the information, that running
another session was the real reason why I was giving up the shifts in the pub. I had a nice little nest egg sitting in the bank so money wasn’t a problem and I knew that being able to dedicate all my time to the new venture was a total luxury. I didn’t mention my tumultuous feelings about Ben Fletcher to anyone.
‘So I guess I’ll see you Friday then,’ Evelyn said as she began cashing up. ‘Are you fully booked?’
‘No, not yet,’ I told her. ‘There’s still room for a couple more people, but I’m not too worried if all the spaces aren’t taken. To be honest I hadn’t been expecting to run another session so soon!’
‘So who has signed up so far?’
‘Well there’s Helen, of course,’ I explained. ‘She missed out first time round because her son was sick. She was the person who asked if I’d consider running it again, actually. Apparently Sarah and Rachel haven’t stopped going on about how much fun they had. Then there’s a lady called Angela, she was on the first course and enjoyed it so much that she wanted to come again.’
‘Sounds like you made quite an impression!’ Evelyn laughed.
‘Then there’s a woman called Alison,’ I continued, ‘but I’ve no idea who she is.’
‘Oh, that’ll be Ali Fletcher,’ Evelyn nodded, ‘she’s the only Alison round here.’
‘Ali who?’
‘Fletcher,’ Evelyn said again. ‘Ben’s mum. I dare say she’s missing him now he’s rushed off to be with his father and you never know, what with her being such an old gossip,’ she said, eyeing me astutely, ‘we might even find out why he went off in such a hurry.’
‘Oh, I’m sure he had his reasons,’ I said evasively.
‘Well anyway,’ Evelyn laughed, thankfully abandoning the subject, ‘I’m not so sure you’ll be able to get me to sew in a straight line, but we’ll give it a go. I’ve been meaning to find a way of doing something with this place for ages,’ she said, looking around her, ‘but I never seem to have the time. Some of that bunting stuff will be lovely strung around the bar. I want rectangles though,’ she added fiercely, ‘and nothing frilly!’
‘Lizzie!’
‘What?’
‘There’s someone to see you!’