Charlie was now sounding more sincere than an MP telling his constituency he was campaigning to abolish Council Tax.
Willow was aghast. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Charlie’s friend, but she knew exactly what was going to happen. Not one but two men with the remote control. Two men to clear up after. Two men belching, picking their noses and scratching their privates as they lolled around in front of the television.
And how would Ben’s presence impact upon her private life with Charlie? Would Ben be slumped on the sofa at midnight, sobbing into man-sized tissues while she and Charlie tried to edge their way upstairs to bed. She could imagine it now… her keeping her fingers crossed for some action, but Charlie shaking his head.
‘We can’t leave him downstairs, babe. He’s crying his eyes out. Surely you understand?’
‘But I’m desperate for you to make love to me, Charlie.’
Whereupon her boyfriend would recoil in horror.
‘Good heavens, absolutely not. I couldn’t possibly perform knowing Ben is crying all over our cushions.’
Or, even worse, when Ben finally did make it to bed, his presence would encroach upon her and Charlie. She could see it now… Charlie’s lovemaking noises accompanied by the sound of Ben trumpeting into his second box of jumbo tissues. And then, when Charlie gave his customary “Oo-oh-oooh” upon climaxing, Ben would duet with sobs of “Ah-ah-ahhh”.
Willow wasn’t happy about Charlie’s bombshell news. However, she was a sweet girl and couldn’t bear for anybody to be having a rotten time – and Charlie knew that.
‘It won’t be for long, sweetie,’ he implored. ‘Just while he sorts himself out.’
Willow caught Jean glaring at her. She was tapping one finger against her watch.
‘Definitely only a few days?’
‘Promise,’ said Charlie, crossing his fingers for the second time that day.
Jean was now stabbing her watch so hard, Willow half expected the glass to break.
‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘Will I see you later?’
‘Briefly.’
‘Okay. Don’t leave without saying good–’
But Charlie had already hung up.
Twenty
Jean deliberately kept Willow late at the library insisting she make up the time spent talking on the phone to Charlie. Willow didn’t argue. She’d much rather work an extra hour for five lost minutes than have a verbal warning on her personal file.
As a result of leaving the library later than usual, by the time she got home Charlie had already packed and was ready to be on his way. He came down the stairs clutching an overnight bag, just as Ben arrived with an alarming number of suitcases and black sacks.
‘Hey,’ said Ben greeting them both.
He dumped the last of his belongings at Willow’s feet.
‘I really appreciate this. It means so much having good friends like you and Charlie.’
‘Our pleasure,’ said Willow, instantly feeling guilty at her earlier reluctance to put Ben up.
She glanced at Charlie and gave him a smile of commiseration.
‘Where’s Drummond sending you?’
The question took Charlie by surprise. He’d been so pre-occupied with Kev’s ultimatum and the importance of placating her, he hadn’t given any thought to the name of his make-believe destination.
‘Where am I off to?’ he repeated, stalling for time.
‘Cambridge,’ said Ben, leaping to Charlie’s rescue, just as Charlie said the first thing that popped into his head.
‘Brighton.’
‘Cambridge first,’ said Ben hastily. ‘Then Brighton.’
‘That’s right.’
Charlie nodded frantically.
‘The client has two offices and… er… I have to go to both.’
‘Couldn’t Drummond have let you go first thing in the morning?’ asked Willow.
‘Um, not really,’ said Charlie vaguely.
‘Why ever not?’
‘Why not?’ Charlie repeated, floundering for a plausible excuse.
‘Yes, why not?’
‘The client wants a breakfast meeting,’ said Ben, coming to the rescue.
‘Yes,’ Charlie agreed. ‘Six o’clock sharp.’
‘Well you can’t be in Brighton and Cambridge for breakfast, can you?’ said Willow with a laugh.
‘No, no, you’re right. Which is why I’m having a breakfast meeting at six o’clock in Brighton and then a working lunch with the client in Cambridge. He shifts location faster than a speeding ticket.’
Charlie forced himself to laugh.
‘The guy’s an utter nightmare.’
‘I see,’ said Willow.
She didn’t really see at all. She stepped over one of Ben’s suitcases and set her handbag down on the hall table.
‘Well surely you have time for dinner before you go?’
‘Sadly not.’
Charlie was desperate to get out the door before Kev started calling his mobile. The last thing he needed was demands to know why he wasn’t yet at The Beagle and Bugle. He was already running later than he would have liked.
‘The client hinted at…’
He racked his brain for an appropriate answer.
‘A supper meeting,’ said Ben helpfully.
‘That’s it!’ said Charlie, offering up a silent prayer of thanks for Ben being quicker off the mark than he was right now.
He couldn’t cope with all these lies. He needed to scarper before any more whoppers were told. Despite Willow looking baffled, she wasn’t challenging anything that had been said. If she did, Charlie would just have to blame Drummond for everything.
‘And now I really do need to dash.’
He gave Willow a perfunctory peck on the cheek. Turning, he tripped over a pile of Ben’s stuff, then stumbled out. As the door slammed behind him, there was a moment’s awkward silence between Willow and Ben. They’d never been alone together before. Without the glue of either Anna or Charlie, neither was quite sure what to say to the other.
‘Sorry about all this,’ said Ben.
He gestured at all his gear filling the hallway.
‘And I’m sorry about you and Anna,’ said Willow.
‘These things happen,’ Ben shrugged.
‘If you don’t mind me saying’ – Willow ventured – ‘you don’t seem terribly upset.’
Ben decided to come clean.
‘I’m not. To be honest, the whole thing is just a massive relief.’
‘Oh.’
Willow was heartened to know she wouldn’t be listening to Ben working his way through the vast box of tissues she’d discreetly placed by the spare bed.
‘And… is Anna upset?’
‘I’m not sure. If anything, she’s simply dismissive. I think she wishes I was more like her. You know, feisty. Someone who joins in with the crockery throwing, instead of ducking. She told me I have all the passion of a pensioner at a rave.’
‘Right.’
She didn’t really know what to say. Anna was the chalk to Willow’s cheese. She had nothing against Ben’s ex-girlfriend, but Anna wasn’t the sort to call up for a cosy natter. In fact, Willow couldn’t imagine Anna pouring her heart out to anyone. Unlike Emma, Willow’s best friend. Indeed, Willow couldn’t wait to ring and offload to her. That’s what besties were for. Willow knew Emma would totally sympathise at Willow’s current predicament, from hearing about jackbooting Jean to domineering Drummond. And as for Ben… Willow could almost hear Emma gasping “Noooo” at being landed with Charlie’s best mate.
Feeling a smidgen happier, Willow decided she’d make the best of things with Ben for now.
‘I guess I’d better make a start on some dinner while you put your belongings away.’
‘Sure.’
Ben returned Willow’s smile but struggled to look her in the eye. He was bloody annoyed with Charlie. He’d been dragged into being an accomplice for Charlie over whatsername. Kev. Huh! What woman was called K
ev?
Not for the first time did Ben realise just how trusting Willow was. Anna would have shone lights in his eyes to get to the truth. She’d always been able to sniff out a porky-pie.
He picked up one of his cases, then abruptly put it down again.
‘Do you want me to help you prepare dinner? I’m very domesticated. Anna trained me well,’ he said with a deprecating laugh.
Ben didn’t add that he’d nearly always been the one to prep their evening meal. As far as Anna was concerned, her job was far more exhausting than Ben’s, which was reason enough for him to do the cooking. And the clearing up. And anything else she’d ordered him to do. Thank goodness he’d extricated himself. That was partly why he’d reluctantly agreed to go along with whatever Charlie was up to right now… because Ben knew Charlie was desperate to disentangle himself from a woman who was sticking like Velcro and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
At some point he was going to sit Charlie down and do some straight talking. It was one thing to help a mate out of a tricky situation, but not when he had a gorgeous girl like Willow at home. She had “Perfect Partner” stamped all over her. Ben also wanted to make it crystal clear to Charlie never to take advantage of him again. His conscience was giving him hell over the whole thing.
‘Help?’ Willow queried, interrupting Ben’s thoughts.
‘Yeah. I could peel the veg or…’ he trailed off.
Willow was so flabbergasted at Ben’s offer of assistance, for a moment she could only gape at him. Blimey. When was the last time Charlie had ever done such a thing? She couldn’t remember. Actually, she could. It was never.
‘Really, it’s fine. You sort your stuff out.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ said Ben, now feeling a bit gauche.
‘I’m sure.’
‘Right, then I’ll… ’
He pointed at the staircase.
‘Yes,’ she said, and this time gave him a proper smile.
Half an hour later, delicious smells were wafting up the staircase to Ben in his new bedroom. His stomach let out a growl of hunger. He’d managed to fit most of his clothes in the small wardrobe but had now run out of room. Lifting the frilly valance around the bed, he discovered it was a divan with two empty draws. Thank goodness. He was just folding the last of his belongings away, when Willow yodelled that dinner was ready.
She had opted to lay the small table in the kitchen, rather than the one in the dining room where she and Charlie usually ate. Willow liked to court romance which – whippy cream aside – was usually thin on the ground. She often lit a pretty candle centrepiece to add some ambience. Consequently she didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of eating in there with Ben. However, the kitchen’s bistro table was very casual. It was often used as an additional prep surface, and regularly covered in flour and pastry trimmings.
‘Something smells good,’ said Ben, coming into the kitchen and rubbing his hands together.
His voice was over-jocular, and Willow could tell he felt as uncomfortable as her about their eating together.
‘Listen,’ she said, placing her hands against the work top and giving him a frank look. ‘Don’t feel you have to sit here making conversation with me.’
‘O-Oh,’ said Ben, looking both surprised and relieved.
‘If you want to read the newspaper while eating or watch the telly’ – she indicated the small flat screen on the other side of the kitchen – ‘then I really don’t mind.’
‘Is that because you want to disappear into the pages of a romance?’
He nodded at the Kindle languishing near the hob. She’d obviously been reading while stirring the gravy.
She hesitated.
‘Only if you’re reading too.’
‘I don’t read romances,’ he teased. ‘But I do like scrolling through the news on my phone.’
He removed his mobile from his back pocket and set it down by his knife and fork.
‘My habit used to drive Anna mad.’
Willow laughed.
‘Well it won’t drive me mad and, yes, I’d like to do nothing more than read my Kindle whilst mindlessly eating.’
‘Feel free then,’ said Ben in delight.
Willow gave a small sigh of relief and placed her Kindle on the table.
‘Glad we’ve sorted that out,’ she grinned.
They ate their dinner companionably. Ben read an article about Prince Harry’s fury with the press and the way they were treating wife Meghan, while Willow imagined that she was the heroine in the sizzling hot romance she was currently enthralled with. In her mind’s eye she could picture Charlie as the bad boy billionaire who – despite his incredible looks, charming personality and stonking wealth – had only just realised he was madly in love with his personal assistant. Willow had no trouble letting her imagination put her in this character’s shoes. Now Charlie was saying he couldn’t dictate another letter until he’d dictated exactly what he was going to do to her. On his desk. Which was huge. Like a certain part of his anatomy.
‘I feel sorry for Harry and Meghan,’ said Ben.
Willow tore herself away from the billionaire who was panting harder than a randy mongrel pursuing a Crufts’ winner.
‘Why’s that?’
‘Well, they don’t have it easy, do they?’
‘What, you mean, with all their wealth, servants, and luxurious accommodation?’ she teased.
‘I think Harry’s pretty down to earth. He was living in a very twee cottage before he married Meghan. It didn’t even have air conditioning.’
‘Ben, the average homeowner in Britain doesn’t need air-conditioning,’ Willow pointed out.
‘We will in the future,’ said Ben darkly. ‘Global warming will see to that. I don’t know about you, but I hardly slept during our last summer.’
‘It was a sticky one,’ Willow agreed.
‘You’re not kidding. Thirty-seven degrees in Mosley, and that was in the shade. It’s ridiculous. Since when did England ever reach that sort of temperature? And apparently this is the shape of things to come. My new place has air-con,’ he said happily.
‘Your new place? Have you found somewhere to rent already?’
Charlie had promised Ben would only be with them for a few days, so this line of conversation was as welcome as the word on the doormat in Willow’s hall.
‘Oh, I won’t be renting,’ said Ben shaking his head. ‘There’s no point. Not when I have plenty of equity and the means to get a mortgage.’
Willow’s mind began to whirr. If Ben was buying a property, he wouldn’t be staying for “just a few days”. More like several weeks. She gulped at the thought of just how many weeks. When she and Charlie had bought their house, the conveyancing had dragged on for nearly five months.
‘So… ah… where are you looking to buy?’
‘Over at Ebbsfleet. They have some amazing high-spec apartments. It’s a newbuild.’
Willow exhaled discreetly. Okay. Not too bad. Builders of brand-new properties always put their buyers under immense pressure to complete in twenty-eight days. As Ben wouldn’t be in a conveyancing chain, the time target was achievable.
‘That’s brilliant,’ she enthused. ‘The location is every commuter’s dream. Which Phase have you set your sights on? One or two?’
Phase One had been built ages ago but was close to towering pylons. Phase Two was more pleasing on the eye but… hang on. When she’d recently driven past the development, there had been a socking great banner on display. Two words had blazed across it. Sold Out.
‘I’m not buying from either,’ said Ben.
Willow’s stomach lurched. If Ben wasn’t buying an apartment on Phase One or Two, then–
‘Phase Three?’ she quavered.
‘Got it in one,’ said Ben delightedly.
Willow tried and failed to match his enthusiasm. Phase Three wasn’t even underway. Ben might be living with her and Charlie for up to a year.
Oh boy. She couldn’t wait to
ring Emma and offload about THIS.
Twenty-One
‘You’re a really good cook,’ said Ben, putting his knife and fork together.
‘It was only a fish pie,’ Willow shrugged.
‘Only a fish pie? Listen, if Anna had cooked this, I’d never have heard the end of it. She’d have expected praise to the rafters.’
‘Doesn’t Anna like cooking?’
‘No. Her idea of providing a meal is sticking some fishfingers under the grill and shaking out some oven-ready chips on a baking tray – and still expecting praise to the rafters. I was the one who did the cooking.’
‘You?’
‘Yes,’ Ben nodded. ‘Why are you looking so surprised?’
‘Sorry, I didn’t know I was. I shouldn’t really be astonished. After all, there are loads of men out there who love to mess about in the kitchen. Look at Gordon Ramsey and Jamie Oliver. They’ve made millions showing us what to do with a frying pan, as if cracking the code to a mystery.’
‘Oooh, isn’t that a borderline sexist comment?’ Ben teased. ‘I’m sure there were heaps of men chopping chives or plaiting pastry long before Gordon and Jamie turned up on the box. Anyway, I quite like cooking. I find it relaxing.’
‘Really? One day you’ll make some lucky lady a wonderful husband.’
‘Not sure about that.’
‘Oh. Aren’t you into marriage either?’
Ben looked at Willow warily.
‘What do you mean by either? Are you comparing me to Charlie?’
Willow flushed to her roots.
‘I… no. Not at all. I just assumed…’
How had their conversation – so neutral up until now – suddenly taken such a personal turn?
‘What I meant was…’
Help. What had she meant?
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Ben.
He shifted in his seat.
‘Has Charlie broached the M word?’
Perhaps this was why his best mate was so desperate to get shot of that Kev woman. Could it be that Charlie was considering proposing to Willow? In which case, how amazing. The guy was finally growing up!
Willow's Wedding Vows: a laugh out loud romantic comedy with a twist! Page 9