Page 17 of How We Began

Question One: What is the exact colour of Ben Chamber’s hair?

Answer: Black, with a slight hint of chestnut in the sunshine.

Question Two: What is the subject’s trainer of choice?

Answer: Converse, with no preference on colour and not necessarily coordinated with an outfit.

Question Three: Where is Ben Chamber’s slightly crooked tooth positioned?

Answer: Right incisor. He sometimes taps it with a biro when thinking.

And so on.

5th October

Ugh, it’s Friday… the day of the ‘Talk’ with John. Meredith reckons I should just ring him, make it clear I’ve moved on at Uni, that I appreciate the time we spent together (all five arsing dates of it) but thank you, not again.

I can imagine Dad’s face though and Mum ringing to say, “Lilah, how awful of you, is this the way we bought you up, to just be rude and abandon people on the wayside?”

To which I’d reply, “Well yes, Mother, you taught me to just pour a gin and pretend everything’s okay, and I can’t see the difference between the two scenarios, so slide off your high horse and pour us a gin, won’t you.”

Gah.

I should cancel.

No, I should see him face to face. I’m a grown woman.

(Ten minutes later!)

Ben has noticed the giggling… I’m not a grown woman at all.

“Hey.” He knocked on the door and leant against the doorframe, his gaze assessing every inch of me.

I just stared at him.

“I wondered what you were doing. I thought we could have that date we talked about?”

The date… with Ben…

But then I remembered what I was supposed to be doing and a death march started to play in my head.

“Shit! Sorry, Ben, I’ve other stuff going on.” I waved my hand vaguely and his gaze narrowed a little.

A moment of silence hung between us… Then he said something I wasn’t expecting, “Are you pissed off with me about what happened at Fez?”

I jumped up from my bed and stalked over to him. “God, no! What on earth are you talking about?”

His hand slid down to mine, and our fingers entwined. The most natural feeling in the world. Skip over rainbows natural.

“I just thought maybe I overstepped some boundaries, you know, in the cab? You’ve been giggling and acting really odd this week—well, odder than usual.”

I flushed instantly, remembering what the overstepping of the boundaries involved and the subsequent giggling.

He ran a finger along my heated cheeks. “I did overstep them, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t.” For God’s sake, Delilah. Stop flushing.

He stooped a little so he could look me in the eye. “So?” The blues crinkled at me. Damn it. He was going to pull the words from me whether I wanted to give them or not.