by Clare Naylor
“I don’t really want to talk about it actually, Mum.” That was the other reason Liv couldn’t bear to leave Sydney just yet. Even though Ben had shown less than no interest in seeing her since the night of the party, she held out hope that one day his feelings towards her might mellow just a bit so they could at least be friends. And just being in the same city as him made her inexplicably happier, even though she knew that she’d completely ruined any chance she ever had with him.
“Why not? Did you have a tiff?” Elizabeth was so uncomplicated. She would never begin to understand why Liv had even begun to bother with all that dog-handling game playing. As if life weren’t complicated enough, she’d shrug, and shake her head at the whole thing. Pity she hadn’t been around to advise Liv two months ago.
“Not exactly. Let’s just say that he learned his lesson. He’s much too clever to have anything to do with some immature, scheming idiot like me,” Liv said, and it broke her heart to remember what had happened that night. “Still, who knows? Maybe one day I’ll meet some guy that I love as much as Ben. Did I tell you, Mum, about it being Ben Parker who I met that year in Aix on holiday?”
“You’re kidding! The boy in the cottage down the road with the dreamy green eyes? Oh my goodness, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. And you’re not speaking? Oh, darling, I’m sorry. There’s no hope at all?”
“He even refused to come to the wedding. Well, not exactly—he told Rob that he was away on some dig, but I imagine that it’s because he doesn’t want to set eyes on me. And I don’t really blame him.” Liv couldn’t bear to think about Ben right now. It was so painful that it sucked the air from her lungs. That she’d lost him. That Dave had even seen him in a restaurant last week and tried to smooth things over and he’d simply said he had no idea how anybody could do anything so malicious and he really was sure that he didn’t want to see her again. No, there was no hope at all. “Better go and get dressed then, hadn’t we?” Liv looked over at Alex, who was totally wiped out. “Come on; I’ll give you a hand.”
The church was littered with camellias and ivy. From the back, as Liv looked down the aisle, at the guests spilling out of the pews, it was her vision realised. Feathers rose spectacularly from hats and there was a low hum of anticipation. Liv’s stomach lurched for a moment as though she were the bride herself.
“Okay, sugar, let’s get to it.” They were already half an hour late, as they’d got stuck in traffic on the A3. Lenny had been driving and he wasn’t known for his lawbreaking abilities, unfortunately. Still, they were here now.
“Now or never,” Alex whispered, and held out her arm for Liv to slip her arm through, and they took their first step as the organ struck up.
Liv could see the cherry blossom bouquet in Alex’s hand trembling as they tiptoed down the aisle. This really is the real deal, Liv thought to herself, with just a flicker of envy as she and Alex took their final steps. They smiled conspiratorially at Luke and James, who were the groomsmen, all scrubbed in their morning suits, and a radiant Rob. And standing beside him, unless Liv was hallucinating, was Ben.
“That’s Ben. Alex, what’s he doing here?” Liv gulped as the wedding march came to an end and the vicar cleared his throat in anticipation of the proceedings.
“I have no idea. I know Rob got drunk the other night and left some slurring message that he better get over here or he’d never buy him a beer again, but I can’t imagine that would have made him come all this way,” Alex whispered over her shoulder, and the vicar gave them a disapproving look.
“Dearly beloved . . . ,” he began, and Liv stole another glance over at Ben. Who was looking at her. God, he had probably been granted the power of the evil eye and wanted to melt her in some reenactment of The Omen. She looked at her feet and tried to concentrate on her best friend’s wedding. She had better avoid him at the reception, too. Of all the days she didn’t want to get told off and called a malicious cow, today was definitely one of them. He looked so achingly beautiful in his grey morning suit with a scattering of freckles across his brown nose, his hair short and ruffled. In fact, he’d never looked more irresistible. And never been more inaccessible. Oh, why did he have to come, Liv wondered, and make me remember just how much I regret what I did? Ah, perhaps that was why he’d come. To make her suffer even more. Just as she was about to moan to herself that there was no God, she looked up and saw the crucifix and thought better of it. Nah, can’t afford to fall out with him, too, she decided.
“If any of you know of any lawful impediment . . . ,” the vicar continued, and after the tense moment when psychopathic exes are invited to leap out of the pews brandishing deranged reasons had passed uneventfully, the congregation drifted back into their various reveries, be that wondering if they’d turned the heating off at home or gazing mistily at the beautiful couple who had to cross land and seas and social divides to meet. On Rob’s side you could smell the money mingling with the incense, and on Alex’s side were many friends, some literary lions, and her tall, handsome brothers, who were a credit to her despite, the more senior members of the congregation thought, the rather uncomfortable-looking ring through Jame’s left eyebrow. Because most of Rob’s family had flown in from Australia they were determined to make the most of it and were already wondering when the fella in the dress would give it a rest and let them go and do what they did best: have a knees up.
It didn’t take long. The bride and groom, having been in a bit of a hurry to marry because Alex couldn’t face having to wear a flowing gown to conceal her tummy when a slinky one would do perfectly well, didn’t have the time to write their own vows. This pleased the vicar. In his experience such vows were usually embarrassingly earnest attempts at second-rate poetry.
Alex and Rob could have got married in Australia, but Alex, having agreed to spend at least a few years of married life there to begin with, had decided that she wanted to be married in England and while she was reasonably svelte. So had it not been for the fact that Liv had fled England a few months ago and forgotten to cancel almost everything from the dress to the morning suits to the napkins to the glorious Bedouin tent that everyone was now dancing the conga in, then they might have had a bit of a struggle arranging things.
The Carpenters tribute band, which Liv decided she would not be having to play at her own wedding, if ever she had one, played on. But the racket from the “Mr. Postman”–droning woman in the wig was so bad that the neighbours’ dogs were joining in and the cats were under the beds. Between the melon balls and chicken in white wine sauce Liv made her way across the garden into the house and escaped to the loo. All the time keeping a look-out for Ben, whom she had so far managed to avoid by diving behind guests with large hats whenever he so much as looked her way.
The loo door was locked, so she sat on the step outside and rubbed the red patches on her feet where her new shoes were rubbing like crazy. Five minutes later the door was still locked.
“Excuse me. Could you hurry up? I’m busting.” Liv rapped on the door.
“Hold on a minute,” a woman’s voice came from inside.
Liv imagined it must be a bit of a twisted-knickers-and-tights issue or something and took off her shoes for a second.
“In fact, I’d be really grateful if you could give me a hand.” The door swung open and there, lodged between the cistern and sink with a great big plaster cast on her leg, was Fay.
“Fay. Oh my god. Look at you.” Liv leapt up and ran to Fay’s aid. She took hold of her crutches and looked down at a giant plaster cast and a toe ring on the bare foot. “I’m so glad you could come. Alex has heard all about you and was so grateful for you letting me go to Oz and keep her company that she had to invite you. But god, how did this happen?”
“Believe it or not, I was learning to ride bareback. In Hyde Park. Not Arizona, but still . . .” Fay used Liv as a lever to prise herself out from the loo and collapsed on the steps.
“It’s great to see you, Fay. Only I hope you’re not going to try to p
oach me back, ’cause I think I’m staying in Australia for a bit.”
“Not a bit of it. I’ve got a much more efficient accountant who doesn’t know how to use the Internet so she doesn’t waste quite as much time as you did on Naked Brad.” Fay laughed. “Anyway, Livvy, what about you? Did you find your jackeroo?”
“Not exactly. But I had my knickerless lunch and even though I haven’t been hip enough to do rehab I’ve renounced drugs and had a huge affair, but . . . well . . . it’s all over now.” Liv wondered whether she should fill Fay in.
“Ben?”
“How did you know?”
“Well, I tripped this very handsome boy up with one of my crutches as we were coming out of the church and he was looking for you.” Fay nudged Liv and winked.
“Oh god, I wish it were like that, but miserably it’s all gone more pear-shaped than me.”
“Really? What happened?”
“Such a long story that I’m not even going to bore you with it. Actually, it’s more of a Theban play than a story. Or maybe one of those medieval morality tales.”
“Sounds nasty.”
“No, really, it’ll be fine.” Liv put on a brave face in the presence of her glamorous wonderboss, who was perhaps the most inspiring person Liv had ever met. And that was just her hair. “And besides, I did what I went out there for. I got over my broken Tim heart. I lived life a bit rather than just imagining it and I’m not even nearly as old as the girls in Sex and the City, so I reckon I can afford a few more years of single and fabulous before I have to start worrying about settling down. And you know I still haven’t had sex with a rock star. I reckon every girl has to do that before she meets the man of her dreams, right?” Liv looked pleadingly at Fay, who took her hand and smiled sympathetically.
“If I were being completely naff I’d tell you that for every door that closes a window opens or something.” Fay laughed quietly. “But you know you’ll be fine, don’t you?”
“I know.” Liv pulled a pen from her handbag. “Can I sign your cast? Right here, next to . . . . Hey . . . when did you let Robbie Williams near your leg? Did you get his phone number?”
It was now one in the morning and Not-the-Carpenters had been replaced by a Boney M–playing DJ. The hardier guests were still giving it loads to “Rasputin” and Alex was sitting on Rob’s knee and they were both having a very earnest conversation with the Little Bloke and patting the little bump.
“Liv, I’ve been looking for you.”
Liv, who had flaked out on a chair having danced a polka with every male member of Rob’s family and a couple of his young nieces, turned round to see Ben, whom she had forgotten to avoid in her whirling frenzy. “Ben, please don’t let’s have this conversation now. I’m exhausted. I know what I did was unforgivable, but do you think perhaps you could just not remind me of what a horrible bitch I am until tomorrow?”
“Three nights ago I was at home on my own, about to watch some documentary on the Discovery channel, and couldn’t be bothered to cook.” He pulled up a chair next to her and handed her a glass of champagne.
“What are you talking about?” Liv opened her heavy eyes and squinted at him suspiciously. “Have you been smoking crack?”
“Anyway, I thought maybe I’d get a Chinese. Then I thought nah . . . what I really want is an American hot.”
“An American hot?”
“Pizza. From Arthur’s. Spicy, pepperoni. Family-size and a Coke.”
“Ben, I think maybe we should get Tim to take you back to your hotel room. Where are you staying?”
“So I knew that I had some flyers somewhere with Arthur’s number on. I mean I can’t believe that after all these years of vegging on the sofa I don’t know it by heart, but then I guess when I was going out with Amelia we were more a sushi couple than your pizza types. What type are you by the way, Liv?”
“Four-eight-five three-o-three-nine.” Liv had taken two mouthfuls of champagne and was trying to ignore the fact that Ben was talking complete rubbish and simply be delighted that he was talking to her at all. It was clearly a drug-induced, temporary state of affairs, which was even more reason to take advantage of it. If he hadn’t snapped out of it in five minutes she might even attempt to kiss him. Or put her hand on his thigh.
“What’s that?” It was his turn to be puzzled.
“Four-eight-five three-o-three-nine. Arthur’s phone number. I’m a pizza girl.”
“I knew you were.” He took hold of Liv’s hand. “So I went out into the hall and rummaged through my drawer and found the flyer for Arthur’s. And just as I was scanning the list, looking for my American hot, I noticed that somebody had scrawled all over it.” Ben looked at her with such excitement you’d have thought he’d just worked out how to split the atom. Then he pulled a piece of scrunched-up paper out of his pocket and waved it in her face.
“My note?” Liv suddenly realised what he’d been going on about. “You found my note?”
“Only three days ago. I found your note. You see, until then I thought that you hadn’t given a damn. You’d showed up late when I’d given you a chance to explain and then I never heard another thing from you. It was as if you just didn’t care at all. As if all the dog-handling stuff had really been a game and once you’d got me, made me like you, you lost interest.”
“Oh my god, you didn’t really think that, did you?”
“What else was I supposed to think? Anyway, I didn’t get your note until after I’d told Dave that I never wanted to see you again. After I’d told Rob that I wasn’t coming to the wedding because I couldn’t bear to be in the same room as you. And after I’d decided that I hated you.”
“But—” Liv tried to interrupt, but Ben was kissing the piece of paper.
“And I know that I’ve been a stubborn bastard and that I wouldn’t listen to you and that whatever this dog-handling thing is, by the way, it is complete bollocks, because if you had ignored just one more of my phone calls I was going to give up on you completely.”
“I’m so sorry, Ben,” Liv said—but even though she was sincerely sorry and the whole thing had been a miserable disaster, a slow smile had begun to spread across her face. What he was saying was that he used to hate her but that now he’d read her note he’d forgiven her. This was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to her. How could she help but smile?
“No, I’m sorry. Really, Liv. Anyway, the thing is that what you did was pretty shitty.”
“I know and believe me, I’ve regretted it every single minute since it happened. I’ll probably regret it for the rest of my life.”
“And because of that I’ve found someone else,” Ben said gravely.
Liv’s smile vanished. She nearly buckled as he said this. “So soon?”
“I knew that I had to do it. You see, I figured that if you were really into all this game playing, needed someone to manipulate, to jump to your commands—”
“Ben, I’m not like that; please don’t think I am. I don’t blame you for finding yourself another girlfriend, I know I’ve messed up, but—”
“Do you want to see a photo?” Ben put his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a photo.
“Actually, I don’t think that I do. This is pretty tough on me because despite what you think, I really do love you. So no, I don’t want to see a photo of some other girl you’ve met. Thanks all the same.”
“You do?”
“Do what?”
“Love me?”
“Yeah. I do. Well, I did. And I always have. So I probably always will.”
“Here, just have a quick look.” Ben pressed the photograph in front of Liv.
She nodded miserably but couldn’t make out the girl in the picture because her eyes were blurry with tears.
“What do you think?”
“Ben, please, could you just leave me alone now?” Liv disentangled her hand from his and was about to stand up.
“Isn’t that the most beautiful shiny hair you’ve ever seen?
And those legs . . .” Ben was gazing at the photo and laughing. Jesus, he really was a sicko.
“Bye, Ben.” She stood up.
“And all ours.”
“Ours?” Liv nearly fled. Near miss. What? He’d hired some girl for them to share? He was an ubersicko.
“He’s called Felix. And I figured that while you had this thing about dogs, about training them, well, while Felix was living under the same roof as us then you wouldn’t have to hound me so much.” Ben laughed at his feeble joke.
Liv looked at him in disbelief. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“I bought us a dog, Liv. Look—he’s kind of a mutt. I thought maybe they were a bit more intelligent. A bit easier to train, right?”
“A dog?”
“Called Felix. I hoped that even if you didn’t want to move in with me when you got back to Sydney, then you could at least take him for walks on the weekends. Maybe you could even stay over sometimes. He’d probably like that. Or we could come and visit you if you like.”
“Ben. You’re insane.” Liv pulled the picture out of his hand and found herself staring at the cutest, most hairballish puppy she’d ever seen.
“I mean I know it’s a big commitment and stuff, but I really am serious about you, Liv, and I figured that maybe we’re ready to take this step and—”
“He’s beautiful.” Liv put her arms around Ben’s neck and kissed him. She couldn’t believe it. He’d bought her a dog. Them a dog. They were going to be a dog-owning bona fide couple with responsibilities and a life together, all three of them. “Thank you; thank you. Oh, Ben, you’re so amazing. I mean this is wonderful and . . . what about Amelia?” She stopped for a brief reality check. Just in case something horrific were lurking round the next corner waiting to bite her on the bum.
“She’s going out with a rock star.” He grinned.
“Thank god. I mean good for her.” Liv’s smile got wider. “And you mean this? Felix is ours?”
“Yes. If you want him. If you want us.” Ben had hold of her hand and was waiting for her answer.