‘Oh, Thomas, you’d do that for me?’
‘Only the once, mind.’
I hugged him. ‘You said at the beginning of the year that I should be locked up. Do you still think that?’
‘Yup. You shouldn’t ever be allowed out in public on your own. You’re a menace.’
‘I quite like the sound of being a menace.’
‘Only you could take that as a compliment.’
‘Thomas …’
‘Yes?’
‘What do you think of Sam?’ I looked at him sweetly.
‘Not much. She’s pretty boring – art galleries, museums, dull, dull, dull. And she can’t cook like you, and I bet she’s really messy, and she’s not clever. I think she’s really thick. You’re far more interesting.’
‘Am I?’
‘Yes, more interesting altogether.’
Thomas looked so sincere, I laughed. ‘But is she better looking than me?’ I was enjoying this game.
‘What? You’re joking! She looks like a hatstand.’
‘Hatstand Sam. I love you, Thomas.’
‘Oh, God, you girls get so mushy and now my best mate’s come back from a year away and he’s turned into a poof.’
‘Ben? A poof? No, maybe he’s learned to use a washing-machine but get him down the pub without the Hatstand and things will be like they used to be.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Of course. However, for me things will never be the same again.’
‘No, babe, they’ll be better.’
‘You know, Thomas, I think they will.’
When Thomas left, I had a revelation: I had to face my relationship with Ben and work out why it had affected me so deeply. I had adored him, that was clear, and that had set the course of our relationship. I had done everything for him. All Ben had to do was dress himself and wipe his own bottom – I drew a line, you know. My friends used to say I did too much for him, especially Jess used to say that I was behaving like a housewife, not a student. And I was, but I was happy. At no point did Ben ask me to do any of this for him, but I don’t expect he would have stayed with me for so long if I hadn’t.
I can’t accuse Ben of taking advantage of me because I offered. At the end of the first year when we all moved in together, it was my idea. My friends didn’t mind: they liked Thomas and they liked Ben, but most of all they liked me. When the hockey team found out we were going to live together, they said, ‘What the hell are you doing getting yourself tied down to a bird?’ They said this in front of me. And Ben replied, ‘Look, she does my laundry, cleaning and feeds me – oh, yeah, and I get sex every night, more than can be said for you.’
The lads thought he was cool. I knew the pressure he was under so I assumed that he couldn’t say he loved me, which was what he meant, he had to pretend he only wanted me for my whiter than whites and my Jif bathroom. I understood, that’s what guys were like. But, well, come to think of it, that had probably been the truth, the love thing was only in my head.
Ben made me laugh sometimes, but he didn’t compliment me or show me much affection. I loved him, but he never told me he loved me. I would ask him, ‘Do you love me?’ and he would grunt, which I took as a yes, but it was really no answer at all. I think I wore out the phrase ‘I love you’ when I was with him, perhaps I said it so much because I didn’t know myself. Poor Ben. From the start he didn’t stand a chance. I coveted him from a distance, I made him mine. When did he get the chance to love me? He didn’t. He didn’t even get the chance to know me.
Was Ben ever mean to me? Yes occasionally. Once after a hockey match they’d lost when Ben had played badly, his teammates accused him of playing like a girl. He stormed off and I ran after him, telling him, thought he’d played well and everything else nice I could think of.
Ben turned to me with a thunderous look in his eyes. Will you stop following me like a fucking sheep. I am not Little Bo-Peep and contrary to popular opinion you are not a sheep. So fuck off and leave me alone. Then he stalked away. I cried all the way home, and that night Ben locked me out of our room and I had to sleep in Jess’s. Of course, all my friends felt Ben was behaving like a bastard, but I was just worried that he’d never speak to me again. In the morning, Ben came downstairs and kissed me. I looked at him, expecting an apology, but he shrugged and that was that. He never apologised and I didn’t want to upset him by mentioning it. When he locked me out of our room I should have been furious, but instead I told myself that he was upset and I accepted his behaviour.
Listen, girls, an imbalance of power no matter who creates it is not the basis for a lasting relationship. God, I had clarity. This was great, why hadn’t I done this before?
Another time when Ben and I weren’t speaking, I wrote him a poem. God, I didn’t shout at him, I wrote him a fucking poem. I gave it to him and said, ‘This is how I feel,’ and he read it. I still have it:
I saw you sitting on a leaf,
The leaf was green, you were blue
I said come here, come to me
I thought how much I did love you
I saw you sitting in a field
The field was yellow, you were blue
I ran to you, I touched your face
I told you that I did love you
And on it went. I watched him read, and it seemed to take an eternity. I didn’t understand the poem myself, and I realised that giving it to him had been a mistake. He had a puzzled look on his face for the first half, and an expression close to amusement for the last bit.
‘Ru, what the fuck is this supposed to mean?’ I shrugged. ‘What do you mean, I’m blue and I sit on leaves? Have you gone mad?’ I shrugged, hurt. Ben kissed me. ‘You’re crazy. Maybe you should think about seeing someone.’ I think he was right. I mean, I’m no poet, and Ben certainly wasn’t a poetry reader. What I should have done was told him why he’d upset me, not given him something that neither of us understood. I never wrote poetry again.
After every row, I would find a way to apologise; I would take him breakfast in bed, I would give him imaginative oral sex, I would buy him a present, I would promise never to get hysterical again. I would do this whether I was in the wrong or not. The seeds for my dependency were sown. I tried to make Ben depend on me, but somewhere along the way I lost myself.
I behaved quite badly sometimes over Ben. The worst was in the first year, when this girl, Angela, started coming to watch the hockey. I found out that she fancied Ben. Anyway Jess and I used to call her the Virgin, because we’re bitches and I couldn’t imagine that she’d sleep with anyone. Ben was nice to her and I hated that. I told everyone what a cow she was and I spread some nasty rumours about her. Jess and I were drunk and we told the college gossip queen that Angela believed she’d been impregnated by God. She had to put up with sniggers, and people saying, ‘Are you going to call your first born Jesus?’ She hadn’t done anything except tell someone she fancied my boyfriend. With Ben I became someone I didn’t like very much. After Ben I continued being someone I didn’t like very much.
My parents didn’t like Ben. In the true tradition of fathers my father thought he wasn’t good enough for me, Ben was all wrong: he played hockey, not rugby. My mother didn’t like Ben because she said he never spoke. We all went out to dinner once and, well, Ben said nothing, except yes and no, and ‘Bank manager’— that was when mum asked what his father did. She said he was the most boring person she’d ever met, I defended him by saying he was shy, which he was. He had no trouble talking when he was with his friends. But, then, as the words ‘tits’ and ‘bums’ make up most of their conversation I expect he was a little stuck.
My friends liked Ben – well, at first they did. They liked him because I liked him, but they just got mad when I was upset. I think sometimes, though, they were just as mad at me. Even Thomas, who was Ben’s friend first, would get mad about the way he treated me sometimes. If the words ‘stupid cow’ spring to mind, well, I was and still am and at last I’m slowly beginning to realise this.
But Ben and I had good times together. I thought I loved him, which meant I did love him. I thought he was The One and he was my first love.
I felt that this was the last stage in my purging process. I am purging myself of Ben. When you’re an alcoholic or a drug addict, the first step to being cured is to admit your addiction. That’s how it was with Ben. I had been through a number of phases in trying to get over him: denial (he doesn’t mean it, he’ll be back), depression (my life is over without him), ignorance (other men), confrontation (tonight’s dinner). This stage was truth (finally admitting the reality of our relationship), which left rebirth (getting on with my life so that I no longer missed Ben or resented him). Then it would be truly over for me.
Tears were running down my face – tears of relief. I was feeling better, clearer, stronger. I was exorcising my ghosts and I was ready to start living again. Not partying or pulling, not getting a career and becoming a today woman, but learning what I really wanted from life. I needed to learn how to like myself and trust myself before I gave myself to anyone else.
I slept fitfully, and awoke the next morning with a horrible headache and puffy eyes. But I felt better than I looked: I had got rid of Ben, and I could get on with the rest of my life. But first, to make sure, I had to go and see Katie.
Chapter Nineteen
The princess waited for her prince on his white horse, white being the symbol of all that is good, and princes being very nice too. They were both going to rescue her, from evil, boredom, sadness. She wanted to be rescued. But when the white horse came, there was no prince. She was startled: there had to be a prince – how could there be a rescue without one? She waited by the horse, but the prince never came. She waited for a year for this rescue, but now it was time to face facts. Yes, she was to be rescued, but no, the prince was not involved. The princess jumped on the horse and rode off, on her own, into the sunset.
***
I told Katie what had happened at the dinner party and afterwards: that I had made a fool of myself, the phone call, and then the self-evaluation.
Katie looked thoughtful. ‘You’re over him,’ she said.
I had an empowering dream that Sunday night. I dreamt I was sitting in a huge wooden chair – it was bigger than me, it was throne-like. It was in the middle of a huge and otherwise empty room. I was relaxing in it, thinking, singing to myself, I was happy. Then there was a knock at the door, and in walked Ben. He approached the chair and knelt down. He asked for forgiveness and he asked for my love. I told him that he didn’t deserve either and I asked him to leave. He left, crying.
Then Simon walked in. He approached me and apologised for taking advantage of me. He was begging for another chance and he promised he would never ever hurt me again. I told him he was not worthy of me and I ordered him away.
Mike followed. He apologised for lying to me, he said he had some father-son issues, but he realised that was no excuse for making up lies about his importance. He also apologised for taking advantage of me and getting me into so much trouble. I told him abuse of power was the worst way to behave especially with someone as vulnerable as I was. I sent him away with a flea in his ear.
Julian came and asked me to take back what I said about him, about his penis especially. He begged me. I looked at him and told him that that was the price he had had to pay for his arrogance, which is not a quality that deserves praise. He left vowing to change.
Wayne was next. He looked at me with disgust; he didn’t need forgiveness. I did. I told him I was sorry to have caused him distress but I hadn’t been myself then. He nodded, and I told him he could go.
Philip came and said he wished he’d called me. I told him that it was too late for regrets. He asked for another date, I said no and he left.
Nathan arrived, looking very cool. He said he should have been honest with me about his being gay but he found it hard. He blamed the drugs, they were making him behave like he did, he was sorry for scaring me. He looked genuine and I almost felt sorry for him. I told him to get help for his drug problem then come out of the closet. He thanked me and left.
Then Guy apologised for being a fascist, Seb apologised for leaving me alone, Barney apologised for not calling and the five thousand men said they were sorry for being such idiots. I waved them all away.
Mark arrived. Mark the angel, the beautiful. He apologised for what he had done to me. He called himself all the names under the sun. He explained he was commitment phobic and wished he wasn’t, but now he felt he might be able to give me what I wanted. I was tempted, believe me, but I shook my head. I told him he was a cad who had betrayed my trust. I cared for him, he let me down. I told him to leave in the knowledge that he would never be forgiven.
Just as I thought I was free, Ben came back. He asked for one last chance, he said he loved me. Those words I had so longed to hear. I sighed and told him he was too late, I didn’t need him any more, I was all right. I told him I was ready to fall in love properly, equally and happily. I asked him to leave.
I told Katie about my dream. ‘It sounds like one of your daydreams. Are you sure you were asleep?’
I thought for a second. ‘No,’ I replied.
***
Ben had been the most significant thing in my first year out of university, even though he wasn’t with me. For the first part he left me and I spent all my time wanting him back, then in the last part, he gave me the answer I needed, or helped me to find it.
It was a Monday when I decided, a week after the dinner party. I will always remember, because it is very rare for me to make any kind of decision on a Monday. But it was a year and a little bit after leaving university, on a warm day, that I decided. I was going to leave London, England, Ben and my memories. The only thing I wasn’t leaving was Katie. I would ask her to come too. When you make a decision of this magnitude and, believe me, I was talking about more than just a holiday, it makes you feel strong, emancipated and shit scared.
But I had decided. Of course, after months of agonising I had made the decision very quickly. It was like doing the crossword: when you cannot get an answer you puzzle over it and it bugs you because you can’t find the answer. The next day you’re sitting on the loo, or having a bath and the answer comes to you in a flash. The feeling of relief is immense. That’s how it was for me. I had finished my own personal crossword: I wasn’t on the loo when it happened, I was on a horribly packed tube on my way to work.
I got to the office on a huge adrenaline rush, enough for Katie to ask if I was on speed, but I couldn’t tell her. I thought about it all day, not about where we’d go or what we’d do, but just about leaving. The difference between what I was doing and what most travellers did was that I didn’t plan to come back. I wasn’t going for a year, I was going for as long as it took. Maybe I would come back, and maybe I wouldn’t. Was it significant that Ben had been travelling? Probably. He had grown up, changed, become a different person. Now I knew it was time for me to grow up, I think and I hope that I did it more for myself than for him.
I waited until the next evening to tell Katie.
‘I know we’ve been playing at changing things, Katie, but we haven’t done anything drastic, apart from not sleeping with every man we meet, of course. We haven’t really changed our lives, though.’
‘Are you trying to depress me again?’ Katie asked.
‘No. I’m trying to tell you something, so shut up. What I think we need is to go away. London doesn’t hold the key to our happiness door, so we have to leave.’
‘What, just leave?’
‘Why not? Nothing holds us here. Maybe we’ll realise that this isn’t the answer, but at least we’d be trying something.’ I was very excited.
‘Where? Where will we go?’
‘Wherever, everywhere, I don’t know. I want to see some of the world, really see it. There’s so much. It doesn’t matter where we start or finish or what.’
‘OK, so we plan a trip, or a leaving, and we go. I think we
should go to Africa, then South America and then the USA for starters. If we want to go anywhere else, we can. We need money, though.’ Katie was getting excited. Our old friend Money again.
‘We’ll just have to save every penny. It should be easy now we don’t go out. And I’ve got some savings, if not much.’
‘I’ve got money saved, too, not a fortune but a bit – don’t look so surprised. I know I’m not a rainy day type, but money only has so much use. Let’s aim for six months. Is that unrealistic?’
‘Totally unrealistic, but you never know.’ I laughed. ‘Anyway, we should be able to get jobs when we’re away.’
‘Ruthie, you’re a genius.’
‘Thank you.’ I took my praise well. ‘Katie, there’s one condition.’
‘What?’
‘I’m only going if you promise not to become a druggie hippie.’
‘Only if you promise not to sleep with every guy you meet.’
‘Bitch.’
We celebrated with a bottle of Bud, and sat smiling like idiots. We couldn’t stop. For the first time I felt really happy and so did Katie. It was the start of our brand new life.
There were many reasons why I decided I wanted to go away. I wanted some fun, to see the world, to meet new people – but it was more about leaving than going somewhere new. It was about leaving Britain, London, my parents, my friends and of course my ghosts. It was about leaving the career world, and my husband hunt and starting afresh. I had gained some sort of clarity, now I wanted more. I was leaving and I might never come back. Really. Deep down I was sure I would, I might find the thing I was looking for along the way. I might also come to terms with how things were and find that what I’d left was not so bad after all. I wasn’t just running away, although I know that’s what you probably think. It just wasn’t that. I was running to something, not away from it I wanted to embrace life, corny but true. I saw a future, opportunity. Ruth Butler was going to do something with her life.
Rubber Gloves or Jimmy Choos? Page 33