by Jane Green
“A sheep?”
“We had a sheep with a twisted colon, and my mother insisted on having it operated on.”
“You’re so weird.” Evvie started to laugh.
“I know. That’s why you love me.”
“I do love you. But not as much as I love this!” Evvie flopped back on the bed. “In a week’s time I’m going to be sharing a New York apartment that will probably be grotty as hell. I’m going to enjoy this while I can.”
“I love that you now use the word ‘grotty.’” Maggie grinned.
“Remember when I had to ask you what that meant? I’m sure the model apartment will be bad.”
“It will be knickers on the radiators and tampons everywhere. But soon you’re going to be super famous, and then you’ll stay in luxury all the time. You’ll fly over to stay with me in my Westbourne Grove flat and you’ll be horrified at how I live.”
“I definitely won’t be,” assured Evvie. “By the time I’m twenty-six, I’m planning on trips to Africa to make the world a better place. I’ll be sleeping in mud huts on the floor.”
Maggie grinned. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Oh, please cancel France and stay here with me. Your parents won’t mind. They’ll understand.”
“I wish I could,” sighed Maggie. “I can’t get out of it. All the boys will be there, and Charlie’s leaving next week to teach rugby in New Zealand for a year. This is our last family get-together. I’ll phone you every day, I promise. Maybe you’ll find some sexy man in town to share this bed with. It would be a pity not to share it.”
“I’ll do my best,” laughed Evvie. “Although I’m pretty sure everyone decent has gone. Maybe I could have a fling with the local milkman.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Maggie said, before turning serious. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too.”
“Have an adventure this week and tell me everything. I’ll be lying around reading and waiting to live vicariously through you. I seriously am going to call you every day, and I expect exciting updates. What’s the number of the hotel?” She rolled over and looked at the phone on the bedside table. “I’ll write it down. Don’t forget to have fun. Oh shit.” Maggie looked at her watch. “I’ve got to run.”
Evvie walked her downstairs, where they hugged tightly, both of them laughing as they wiped away tears, unable to believe their three perfect years had come to an end. Then Maggie left and Evvie walked back up to her room, suddenly feeling very alone.
Without Maggie, the suite felt lonely and a little overwhelming. Evvie sat for a while looking out the window, with no idea what to do for the rest of the day, let alone the rest of the week.
Eventually she switched on the television and flicked around, watching the daytime talk shows. She wasn’t used to being on her own, could barely remember the last time she had been. Of course there had been times when Maggie and Topher were out and she was the only one in the house, but it was never for long, and there was usually studying to be done, or some other distraction. She knew she would never be by herself for long, but suddenly a week felt like an eternity.
The daytime shows led to old black-and-white films in the afternoon, with Evvie eventually falling asleep. She woke up in the evening, disoriented, not knowing where she was, or whether it was morning or night. Realizing it was night, and grateful that at least she managed to kill day one, she had no idea what to do for the rest of it, knowing only that she had to get out of this room that was rapidly feeling more like a prison.
Evvie had never thought of herself as someone who was not good at being alone, but it struck her that perhaps she was more of an extrovert than she realized, needing other people to energize her. But what kind of self-sufficient feminist could she possibly be if she wasn’t good at being alone? How would she be able to fulfill her dreams of traveling in the third world, helping women and children with education and health, if she couldn’t manage one week in a luxury hotel without a social life?
She could do this. She would have a great week, even if she had no idea what to do. She got up and opened all the cupboards in the room without thinking, before stumbling upon the minibar, the lower shelves filled with tiny bottles of alcohol, the upper one with giant Toblerones.
Toblerones. She stared at them, remembering the feel of milky chocolate melting on her tongue. She hadn’t had chocolate in so long, hadn’t turned to food for comfort for so long, barely at all since Dexatrim took her appetite away. She closed the minibar and walked to the bathroom, but she couldn’t stop thinking about chocolate, and how it would make her feel better.
Except it wouldn’t make her feel better. It would make her feel . . . nothing. That’s why Evvie had always eaten, because it numbed her feelings, and it was much easier to feel nothing than it was to feel fear, or anger, or loneliness. But the numbing never lasted. Afterward, she would be plagued by guilt and shame, but she never thought about that when food was calling, as it was then; never remembered how awful she would feel until it was too late.
If she ate it now, and had one lost evening, she could start again tomorrow morning. Plus, there was always the option of vomiting. It wasn’t something she did all the time, but a useful secret weapon when her willpower was nowhere to be found.
Don’t do it, she told herself, shutting the door, picturing her future, photo shoots, the other models living in the apartment, all of them happily existing on Diet Cokes and Marlboro Lights. It wouldn’t be worth it, she thought as the image of Toblerones lodged itself into her brain. “Distract yourself,” she said out loud.
Heading to the bathroom, she poured the entire bottle of bubble bath into the Jacuzzi and turned on the jets. By the time the bath was full, the bubbles were well above the rim of the bathtub. Compared to the pathetic shower she had had to endure the last three years—more of a dripping hose than a shower—sinking into a mountain of bubbles felt like the height of luxury. She lay there for just under an hour, adding more hot water whenever it got cold, amazed that there was still hot water after forty-five minutes. In the house there was never enough hot water for one person, let alone three.
Afterward, Evvie wrapped herself in a giant fluffy robe, played with her hair in the mirror, and wondered how she was supposed to kill the rest of the night. There were inevitably a few students left, the ones who had got summer jobs, who didn’t have families to return to, but Evvie didn’t know anyone who was still in town.
She would go for a walk, she decided. Maybe even a run, though she had always claimed an allergy to exercise. Afterward she might grab a drink at the King’s Head, see if she knew anyone there. Maybe they could do with some help. Hell, at this point, working in a pub for a few days seemed a far better option than watching television in a four-poster bed. Pulling on some leggings and a T-shirt, she clipped her hair back in a ponytail and headed out the door.
The town without its students was like a ghost town. Evvie had never realized before that half the shops closed down for the summer or were open on limited hours. With no one around to buy patchouli oil, tie-dyed dresses, and handmade wind catchers, there was little point in remaining open.
Evvie attempted a run, which quickly became a jog, which settled back into a walk, Evvie clutching the stitch in her side and breathing heavily. When the pain had subsided, she walked briskly up the high street to the King’s Head, nervous about walking in on her own.
Gone were the hordes of students. A few locals were dotted around, sipping pints, but it felt deserted, and sad. She hesitated in the doorway, but couldn’t bring herself to go in. It felt completely different without the students, and not a place she belonged.
Closing the door quietly behind her, she had made it halfway to the corner when she thought she heard her name. She turned, startled, to see none other than Evil Ben making his way toward her from, presumably, the
King’s Head. She had seen the locals, but she hadn’t seen him. He, on the other hand, had clearly seen her.
Great, she thought, with a deep internal sigh. The last person she wanted to see. She had nothing to say to him. It would appear he was slightly drunk, and she braced herself, wondering whether he would be Charming Ben, whom Maggie had encountered that time with her parents, whom she had had a vague glimpse of the other day in the pub when he joined them for drinks, or Evil Ben, whom she had worked with all those years ago.
It would only be seconds before she found out.
thirteen
- 1989 -
Evvie!” He walked toward her with—somewhat bizarrely—arms outstretched, as if he was about to hug her, and with what looked like a delighted smile on his face.
Evvie took a wary step back before finding herself embraced by him in what felt like a very awkward hug. Why on earth was Evil Ben hugging her? She patted him stiffly on the back before expertly disengaging herself.
She looked at him and realized he looked altogether too happy. “Are you completely shit-faced, Ben?”
He laughed. “Not completely. We’re on a scavenger hunt, and you, my dear Evvie, are exactly the woman I was hoping to see.”
“Who’s on a scavenger hunt, and why did you want to see me?”
“I’m on a scavenger hunt with my mates. It’s Rich’s twenty-fourth birthday, and this is how we’re celebrating. I’ve been stuck on item number eight.” He swayed ever so slightly as he reached into his pocket and brought out a piece of paper, handing it to Evvie to read.
She scanned the first few items, mentally rolling her eyes. A 36C bra. Of course. Take a picture hugging a teddy bear. She thought of Topher then, of his Sebastian Flyte teddy bear phase when they first met, as a pang of missing her friends washed over her that was so sharp, she inhaled deeply with a shake of her head before going back to the list. A pair of earrings that you have to wear at the final party. Find a lightsaber. Snog a celebrity and take a picture. Evvie looked up at Evil Ben.
“Item number eight says snog a celebrity and take a picture.”
“That’s why I was going to look for you. Someone said they’d heard you were here for a few days.” He grinned. “You’re the only celebrity I know.”
“I’m hardly a celebrity.”
“You were in that TV show, so you’re the closest thing I could find.”
“Even if that’s the case, I’m not going to snog you.” Evvie shook her head in disgust, appalled that he would even ask.
“Oh, go on, Evvie,” Ben pleaded. “It’s just for a scavenger hunt.”
“Why would I do that? What’s the big deal about a scavenger hunt?”
Ben shrugged. “Nothing, but I’m competitive. I was hoping you’d take pity on me. If I won, you could come to Rich’s party with me. How’s that?”
Evvie stared at him. Normally she’d say no. She would have no interest in going to a party with Evil Ben, but normally she wouldn’t be on her own with a very long week stretching in front of her.
“Go on,” said Ben. “I tell you what. Even if I don’t win, you could come to the party with me.”
“What makes you think I would want to go to a party with you?”
Ben paused, thinking. “Pity?”
Despite herself, Evvie laughed. “When you say snog, what do you mean? Tongues or no tongues?”
There was a long pause. “No tongues.” He peered at her. “Unless you want to.”
“I definitely don’t want to.” Evvie thought of Maggie’s face if she knew Evvie was even considering snogging Ben. But this was just a game, and at least going to a party would give her something to do. A kiss, especially one without tongues, meant nothing.
“Do you have a camera?” she asked, before Ben triumphantly pulled a small disposable one out of his pocket.
“One kiss,” she said as Ben whooped and fist-pumped the air.
“Here?” he asked, looking up and down the high street.
“No!” Evvie was horrified at the prospect of kissing in the middle of the street. Looking around, she saw the alleyway next to Dorothy Perkins, and pointed. “Let’s go there.”
Evvie walked in front of Ben, shaking her head to herself at what she was about to do. Never in a million years had she ever imagined she would be kissing Evil Ben.
They stepped into the alleyway and faced each other as Evvie suddenly felt a jolt inside her stomach. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but she didn’t like it. Let’s get this over with quickly, she thought.
“Ready?” she asked as Ben took a step toward her, holding the camera awkwardly at arm’s length. Evvie closed her eyes and tilted her head up, pursing her lips slightly, ready for the kiss. She could sense him moving closer, and she opened her eyes briefly, seeing that his face was then inches from hers, but his eyes were open, and he was gazing at her, which caused another jolt. He was not smiling, as he had been ever since he called her name, a smile that felt almost mocking to Evvie, that was completely in line with who she had always thought he was.
The smile had gone, his eyes were half-closed, and Evvie’s insides were stirring. With shock, she recognized it as a dagger of lust, but before she had time to even think about what that meant, Ben’s lips were upon hers, so soft, so gentle, her insides turned again as she pulled quickly away, her cheeks flushed, her heart beating a million miles per minute.
“Did you get it?” she asked, not meeting his eye, her voice harsher than she meant, to cover up unexpected feelings that made no sense whatsoever.
He stared at her, then looked at the camera, shaking his head before turning back to her. His smile was nowhere to be seen.
“I’m not sure,” he said quietly. “Can we try once more?”
Evvie closed her eyes again, and this time she felt a quivering in her groin as his lips touched hers. Without thinking about it, she parted her lips as he sucked her bottom lip between his and pulled away for a second before kissing her again. She let out an involuntary sigh as their tongues tentatively met, her insides upside down, her hands automatically reaching around his back. Then Ben was pushing her against the wall, grinding himself against her as she gasped, her body responding even though her mind was questioning what the hell was happening.
“Where are you staying tonight?” Ben broke off to whisper, kissing down the side of her neck as she groaned.
“Dinham Arms.”
“Can I come back there with you?” he whispered into her ear, nipping her earlobe as she shivered. Without answering, she took his hand, emotions and lust overriding whatever common sense she may have had when she left the hotel that evening, and they walked up the high street, not looking at each other, on their way to the hotel.
fourteen
- 1989 -
Evvie had never understood the big deal about sex. She had had sex plenty of times, and definitely enjoyed the feeling of power it gave her, but beyond that, she was pretty sure she had never had an orgasm, and although you would never have known it from the way she joined in conversations, she had a secret worry that perhaps there was something wrong with her.
It didn’t help that she was unbearably self-conscious about her body, terrified of being seen naked, convinced that however attracted men might have been when she was fully clothed, they would be disappointed in her naked. She insisted on all the lights being off, always, and used the duvet as a security blanket, hauling it off the bed to wrap herself in on her way to the bathroom. Even skinny, as she was thanks to the Dexatrim, she felt that her body would be somehow disappointing. Until now.
Every time Ben touched her, her insides would roll over, lust coursing through her body. They made it up to her room and onto the giant four-poster bed, where Ben left her top on, pulling off her trousers and her underwear, moving down her body until he was lapping between her legs. Instead of feeling self-conscious, vaguely e
mbarrassed, worried about how she would look, smell, taste, she allowed herself to be swept away on a wave, until she was aware that someone far away was gasping and moaning, the noise building and getting louder, and it wasn’t until afterward that she realized it was her.
She undressed Ben then, unable to stop kissing him, embracing him, wanting to squeeze him tight, taking him in her mouth but stopping to climb on his lap, not embarrassed when he lifted her shirt over her head, taking a nipple in his mouth as she reached down to guide him into her.
He made her orgasm again, this time inside her, allowing himself to come at the same time, and they sat, laughing softly, kissing, Evvie’s arms draped around his neck, both of them covered in sweat as Evvie felt her legs shaking and tears forming that she willed away.
This is what it was all about, she thought. I’m normal! This is why everyone makes such a big deal about sex. Finally, she understood. That wave of pleasure, so strong it was almost inhuman, the sounds that came out of her body without her realizing, the contentment she now felt, the satisfaction, the exhaustion.
“When can we do that again?” she said, grinning as he kissed her.
“I need to sleep for a bit,” he said, twirling her hair around his finger. “God, you’re beautiful. I am the luckiest man in the world right now. How are you feeling about this? Are you okay?”
“Am I okay? I feel amazing!” She didn’t need to tell him it was the first time someone else had made her orgasm.
“You’re amazing.” He smiled. “I think I’ve won the scavenger hunt. And the lottery.”
The smile was instantly wiped from Evvie’s face as she climbed off him. “You’re joking, right?” she said.
“Of course I’m joking.” He came after her, encircling her with his arms. “That was nothing to do with the scavenger hunt. You’re the most beautiful woman here, and completely out of my league. I’ve always fancied you, but not for a moment did I even think you’d look at me.”