The Couple

by Helly Acton

  ‘We insist you stay with us tonight, in the barn at the back,’ Betty says, beaming. ‘It has everything you need, even a workstation.’

  ‘There is just one thing, though,’ Marius adds, glancing at Betty. ‘It only has one bed.’

  ‘That’s amazing, thank you so much,’ Ben says, turning to Millie for her response.

  ‘It’s so kind of you both, thank you,’ Millie replies, smiling calmly.

  Inside, she’s having a meltdown.

  As Adrian reminded them the other day, Slide has a strict no-sliding policy between employees. If anyone at Slide found out they’d shared a bed, her reputation would be toast, as would her chances of that promotion.

  A few hours later, and a bottle of wine and cheeseboard down, Ben stands at the sink, washing up slowly and rhythmically as he stares out of the window. Sideways raindrops pop on the glass in front of him like hot corn kernels being swept away by the occasional whoosh of wind. Millie sinks lower into the armchair. After accepting that there is little they can do to exit the situation, she’s hunkering down. The half-bottle of Cab Sav has probably helped.

  He’s so neat, she thinks, as she stares at his back. She likes his straight shoulders. His symmetrical head. How he isn’t particularly broad or tall, he’s just solid.

  Suddenly, he turns around and marches towards her. Then he scoops her up from her chair like she’s light as air, carries her up the ladder and throws her down onto the bed in a burst of passion. Clasping her hands above her head while his weight slowly presses down—

  ‘Millie?’ Ben says.

  ‘Yes?’ Millie replies, leaping out of her head and blushing.

  ‘Do you mind if I have the first shower?’ he asks.

  ‘Of course not, go for it,’ she replies, watching him rummage through his bag.

  He glances up at her and she darts her gaze to the painting next to him, squinting her eyes in fake thought.

  ‘What’s on your mind?’ he asks, smiling at her.

  ‘What’s on my mind?’ she repeats slowly, buying time.

  She follows up with a fake yawn.

  ‘You,’ she says. ‘You, stroking my hair as you lie on top of me, looking back and forth between my eyes before closing yours and kissing my lips like you’ve been wanting to kiss them since we first met. Your soft, warm, firm hands running down my neck, over my shoulders and onto my chest. Your lips moving further down, kissing every inch of me hungrily until you reach the top button of my jeans—’

  ‘Millie?’ Ben says.

  Millie sits up and pokes her head over the back of the armchair to see Ben staring at her through the crack of the bathroom door.

  ‘Sorry, can you pass me my towel, please?’ He points to the bannister.

  ‘Sure,’ Millie says, standing and pulling up the waist of her jeans.

  ‘Thanks,’ he says, narrowing his eyes at her with teasing suspicion. ‘Belle, are you falling asleep at eight o’clock on a Friday night?’

  ‘No! I’m just thinking about all the fun we’re going to have when you’re out of the shower,’ she replies.

  ‘Excuse me?’ He laughs.

  ‘Do you know how to play Snap?’ she says, picking up the pack of cards on the coffee table.

  ‘Doesn’t everyone?’ He laughs. ‘Out in a sec.’

  Millie throws the cards down when he closes the door and slumps into the armchair. A new panic sets in. Does Ben think she’s boring? He must. Here she is, on a Friday night, with half a bottle of wine inside her and the best she can think of is Snap. Ben’s probably staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror right now, wondering how he’s going to make it through the next few hours without storming outside and screaming at the sea to take him.

  Adventurous Ben bends rules and breaks routine. He travels long-distance on a one-way ticket with no hotel booked. He eats insects and treks hills with impossible-to-pronounce names. He has girlfriends and sticks his fingers up at anyone who raises an eyebrow.

  Millie adheres to rules and loves routine. She travels short-haul, return, with a hotel booked and a backup list just in case, and a spare outfit change in her hand luggage. She researches where she’s going, reads all the reviews, and follows the itinerary which is in her backpack and on her mum’s fridge. She’d never have a boyfriend because it would mean straying from her life path. She wouldn’t get promoted. Her mum would die of a heart attack. June would ditch her for somebody single.

  Speak of the devil.

  June:

  Everything OK? Call when you’re safely back in civilisation x

  Millie climbs up the wooden ladder to the mezzanine bedroom, where she crawls under the floral quilt of the world’s cosiest double bed, wishing it was a splintered old futon with a scratchy pillow and guaranteed backache.

  Before Millie can type out her reply, the bathroom door opens with a click downstairs and she hears the ladder creak. When Ben appears, she bursts out laughing. He’s wearing a towel wrapped around his torso like a strapless top and has a shower cap on his head.

  ‘What?’ Ben asks.

  ‘Nothing. You look marvellous.’

  ‘Do you mind? Your laughter is doing nothing for my body confidence,’ Ben says. ‘Now, can you please close your eyes while I put on my boxers. And don’t look! I know your type.’

  Millie pulls the quilt over her head and feels her hair mess up. She should wash it tomorrow morning but, without her straighteners, she’ll look like she’s stuck a fork in the toaster, all day. Normally this would give her anxiety, but she doesn’t feel as self-conscious in front of Ben. It’s his sense of humour. He sees the silly side in everything. That’s when his dimples are at their deepest and his eyes are at their twinkliest. A burst of eucalyptus reaches her, and she breathes it in quietly and deeply.

  ‘I’ll make the tea, you sort the cards,’ Ben says, as he retreats down the ladder.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Millie mumbles through the covers.

  Millie’s eyes pop open at the screech of a seagull right outside the window. She turns her neck to the other side of the bed to see if Ben’s awake. She’s alone.

  ‘Ben?’ she says, yawning.

  It feels like she’s been asleep for hours, which confuses her. How could she sleep so deeply in a new bed, next to a co-worker, with no alarm set? She expected to sleep with one eye open, if not both, listening to her heart thudding through the pillow. This morning, she feels strangely calm. Perhaps it’s the smell of the lavender on her pillow, or the sound of the sea outside. Although it is a bit unnerving that it’s the only sound she can hear.

  ‘Ben?’ she says, louder.

  Millie stands up, opens the curtains and stares out of the window across the wide sandy beach under blue skies, waiting for the fear of the unfamiliar to kick in. But it doesn’t. At least, not immediately. Who cares that it’s already 10 a.m.? Or that she hasn’t exercised, eaten or pinned down her Saturday plans? Millie doesn’t feel tortured by regret; she feels tortured by the realisation that this little slice of reckless bliss will soon end. And that her carefully curated routine – that she really does love most of the time – will restart in less than twenty-four hours. She feels a jab in her bladder. How long can a man spend in the loo?

  ‘Ben?’ she says, loudly. ‘Are you OK?’

  No answer.

  ‘Ben?’ she repeats, walking across the creaking mezzanine. She creeps down the ladder and taps on the bathroom door, softly, then louder, before pushing it open a few centimetres.

  ‘Ben? I’m opening the door with my eyes closed,’ she announces.

  When there’s no protest, she pushes it open fully. The bathroom is empty. Ben won’t have just left her here, will he? She glances around, looking for his bag.

  It’s gone.

  Twenty

  ‘First pee, then panic,’ Millie whispers to herself on the chilly toilet seat with her thumbs tapping at her screen in a rush.

  Millie:

  Where are you?

  Ping!


  She lifts her head abruptly. That was from right outside.

  ‘Millie?’ Ben says through the door. ‘Are you toilet-texting me?’

  ‘No!’ she shrieks, turning the tap on and scrambling to finish up as quietly and quickly as she can.

  ‘OK. I have a surprise for you,’ he replies.

  Millie’s heart sinks. Feeling strangely calm about a spontaneous night away is one thing, but morning surprises in her pjs are another level of unfamiliar, and she isn’t ready for that. Besides, shouldn’t they be packing by now? It’s almost lunchtime, and the car rental will be clocking up the late fees.

  Surprise! The storm washed away the car.

  Surprise! I’ve harvested fresh mussels for breakfast!

  Surprise! Adrian found out and we’re both fired!

  Millie stares at herself in the mirror, wiping smudges from under her eyes and using her fingers as a comb. There’s no time to wash it now. When she pushes the bathroom door open, she sees Ben standing with a straight back to the fireplace, holding a church leaflet to his chest.

  ‘Are you . . . here to talk to me about Jesus?’ she asks, her eyes narrowing.

  He frowns and looks at the leaflet.

  ‘Ha, no,’ he says and laughs, and then switches on a serious face. ‘But you have sinned. Twice! One, you fell asleep before we could play Snap. Two, you took up so much of the bed with your extreme starfish pose that I had to sleep on the floor.’

  ‘I accept no responsibility for what I do in my sleep,’ she says, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the idea of him seeing her sleep. She flicks the kettle on. ‘So, what’s the big surprise?’

  Ben steps towards her, smiles and holds out the leaflet. On the front cover in big letters is TENBY – Discover the Delights of Our Little Harbour Town. It’s Shrimply the Best!

  Millie flicks through the leaflet and looks up at him.

  ‘Let’s go!’ he cries. ‘The storm has passed, it’s a beautiful day and you can see where your mum went on holiday.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Millie says, weighing it all up in her head.

  ‘But that’s not actually the surprise,’ he says, leaning behind the armchair and dragging out a wicker basket covered in white ribbons and overflowing with an assortment of picnic foods. Millie’s eyes light up as she spots peanut brittle, caramel fudge, fresh pastries and bacon butties. There’s also a hot flask and a mini bottle of champagne resting on a tartan blanket inside, next to two tiny flutes.

  He looks pleased to see her smiling.

  ‘When did you have time to do this?’ She laughs.

  ‘I woke up early, as anyone would with their head resting on cold, hard wood, not that I’m bitter or anything, then I went next door and Betty mentioned a place down the road that does these summer picnic baskets, and I got there just as they were opening.’

  Millie loves Morning Ben, talking at lightning speed.

  ‘But, in a shocking twist,’ he continues, ‘that’s not the surprise either.’

  ‘If you pull a kitten out from under your shirt, I’ll do anything you say,’ Millie says, smiling.

  He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and begins to read.

  ‘11 a.m., depart Laugharne. 11:31 a.m., arrive Tenby. 11:45 a.m., park after five attempts and an argument about why I’m choosing to park in the space furthest from the exit. 12 p.m., tuck into our coffees and butties on Castle Beach.’

  ‘Ben, that sounds fun, but—’

  He holds his finger up in the air.

  ‘12:30 p.m., board HMS Tenby Two. 1 p.m., arrive Priory Beach on Caldey Island. 1:15 p.m., suggest sea swim. 1:20 p.m., decide to paddle instead. 2 p.m., toast to the joys of spontaneous adventure with a lukewarm glass of cheap fizz.’

  ‘What about the—’ Millie begins.

  He holds up another finger.

  ‘4 p.m., depart Tenby. 4:33 p.m., arrive Laugharne. 5 p.m., depart Laugharne, destination Cardiff. If we catch the 7 p.m. train to London, we’ll be back in Battersea by 10 p.m. at the latest. The surprise is, I made an actual itinerary, Belle. I’m quite proud of it and I thought you’d be very impressed. What do you say? Say yes. Yes, is what you say. She says yes, everybody!’

  ‘What about the car rental?’ She giggles.

  ‘I’ve extended it.’

  ‘OK. Bit presumptuous.’

  ‘Meh.’ Ben shrugs.

  ‘Tenby is in the opposite direction to Cardiff.’

  ‘Yes, this is true.’

  Millie stirs her tea, thinking desperately of reasons why she shouldn’t go. It isn’t because she doesn’t want to go. It’s because it doesn’t feel right. She’ll have to re-wear dirty clothes. She’ll have to scrape her hair into a bun, which she hates because she thinks she has weirdly shaped ears. Ben might have made an itinerary, but this wasn’t on hers. Then again, neither was last night, and she’s survived. She could even go as far as to say that she’s enjoyed this short break from her schedule.

  ‘Come on, what’s the rush to go home? Have you got anything you have to be back for?’

  There’s Bruce, although she could ask Aarati to fill his bowl again. Surprisingly, her next-door neighbour adores the cantankerous cat, despite the patchwork of scratches on her arm. Then there’s June. Millie missed Movie Tuesday, and she postponed last night’s dinner to tonight. If she goes to Tenby with Ben, that’ll be the third time she’s flaked on their plans this week. She can’t remember ever going a week without seeing her best friend.

  ‘I was meant to meet up with June tonight,’ Millie says. ‘I haven’t seen her since last Friday.’

  ‘Ah,’ Ben says, putting the picnic basket down and his hands in his pockets. ‘Well Belle, I’m not the one with plans, so it’s totally up to you.’

  Millie sips her tea as her mind splits in two. She needs to spend time with June. She’s been a bad friend this week. But they could always meet up tomorrow, couldn’t they? June would understand why Millie wants to see Tenby, where Vivian and Nan went as children. But whether June, Queen of Sceptics, will believe her reasoning is another matter. And if June pushes her for the truth, Millie will undoubtedly crumble. The real reason is that Millie wants to spend time with Ben. Her heart is craving it. But her mind is telling her to play it safe and go back to London as planned.

  Millie sinks her shoes into the soft warm sand and breathes in the salty air of Castle Beach, imagining Vivian and Nan doing the same. She’s found the precise location of a photograph she has of her mum as a child in Tenby, taken by Nan. She puts her hand on her hip, turns to the side and smiles at Ben’s camera to recreate the shot.

  ‘The photo I have of Mum is in black and white. I didn’t realise how colourful these streets would be,’ Millie says, staring at the terraced houses above the beach, painted in pastel shades and looking back down. ‘This sand is like caramel.’

  ‘It might even feel like caramel if you were brave enough to take your shoes off, Belle,’ Ben laughs. ‘What are you scared of, sand between your toes?’

  ‘Yes! For the rest of the day,’ she cries. ‘Nightmare. You’ll regret it on the train back to London.’

  ‘Now that we’re here, I need to tell you the one rule I live my life by,’ Ben says.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘When you’re on a beach, you have to dip your toes in the water. Even in the dead of winter. Even if there’s an army of armed sharks on the shoreline. Even if dipping your toes in the water means—’

  ‘OK, OK, I’ll do it!’ she says, laughing, standing up and slipping her shoes off with her feet, before gingerly placing her right foot then her left foot on the sand.

  ‘Instant regret?’ Ben looks up at her.

  ‘Immediate.’ She shakes her head, sinking her toes into the grains and flicking a few at him.

  ‘Hey, I thought I said regrets are pointless? But still, that’s not beach etiquette, Belle,’ he says, standing up, dusting himself off and grabbing her hand, pulling her towards the sea. ‘Your punishment is five seco
nds of full-foot submersion in the waves.’

  ‘It’s too cold!’ Millie squeals, laughing, letting go of his hand when they reach the shore in case someone sees.

  The mini waves feel like melted ice, and Millie’s feet sting and turn bright white in the water. Still, there’s something cathartic about plunging her toes into seawater this clear, cool and clean. She takes two steps further in and gasps as the water laps at her tingling calves. When she looks up, Ben is taking a photo of her. She pushes her hair back and smiles.

  ‘Sorry, do you mind?’ Ben says, appearing from behind his phone. ‘You’re blocking the shot.’

  Millie looks behind her at the island backdrop.

  ‘Very funny,’ she says, turning back to him as he takes another photo of her deadpan face. ‘So, we’ve done coffee, butties, sand-flicking, toe-dipping. What’s next on our itinerary?’

  Ben takes the paper out of his pocket and points towards a yellow boat tied to the harbour jetty. ‘All aboard HMS Tenby Two!’

  ‘Does this take you back?’ Millie asks Ben, shivering on the breezy deck of the boat, as they pass a fisherman bobbing on his tiny boat in the water.

  ‘It does,’ he replies. ‘I never caught a thing. Have you fished?’

  Millie shakes her head. ‘Our holidays were to gated spa resorts with kids’ clubs.’

  ‘Sounds all right,’ Ben replies.

  ‘They were beautiful. I mean, we didn’t get our toes dirty, unless you count mud baths. And we never left the resort walls. Mum was extremely protective of us like that.’

  ‘I’m sure it came from a good place,’ he says.

  ‘I guess. But I suppose it’s also the reason I’m not the world’s most adventurous spirit, too. You know, I see photos of people dangling off cliffs, rattling around in tuk-tuks, racing down rapids, and I wish I could be more like that. But I can never quite get there, like you seem to. Everything I do has to be safe, sensible. Planned in advance.’

  ‘Maybe you’re more adventurous than you think you are,’ Ben replies. ‘You’re here, aren’t you? How’s the sand feeling between your toes?’