Page 71 of How We Began

Did I, though? Would I love it next year when Ben was no longer there? I didn’t know.

We got stuck in a stale mate of silence while I tried to work out what to do.

I had to make a stand, and helping Tristan and Meredith was worth the sacrifice. So I bartered, “I’ll pay for the half the flat so Tristan is secure, and I will return to the Bank for the summer and see how we get on. Best deal, Dad.”

“Well done, Delilah. I knew you’d come to your senses. You’ve a great career in front of you. It would be a shame to waste it. I’m sure that John will be relieved to know his partner will be back to help boost profits.”

I hung up and my hands were shaking.

That hadn’t gone at all the way I expected. I finished my cigarette, leaning far out of the window, not particularly concerned if I fell out and landed on my head.

22nd January

“Absolutely not.” Tristan paced, which was an impressive feat considering the size of my room.

“It’s okay, Trist. I can afford it.” I couldn’t, but as I no longer needed to worry about being ‘broke in love’ it didn’t really matter.

He stopped and stared at me. They weren’t the only blue eyes staring at me. “What about your degree?”

Ah, so this wasn’t about the money.

I scrunched my face. “Well, I only agreed to the summer. I can still come back next year.” My words rang a little hollow in my own ears and I made sure not to look at Ben. He wasn’t even going to be here anyway, so really he couldn’t say anything. It ached inside of me though, like a hammer to the chest.

Tristan greeted this with a big raspberry, slightly lacking in maturity for a guy venturing into parenthood. “Bollocks!” he exploded once he’d sprayed us with saliva. Meredith curved her lip; I didn’t blame her. “You know that once you go back, you’ll never leave. That’s exactly what Dad’s planning.”

“It doesn't matter. You guys need a home.”

“We can get a smaller one. That flat is ridiculous.”

I’ve already thought of this. My money isn’t enough to buy a whole flat in the same area. All I could do was secure Tristan’s half.

Meredith started crying again while Ben was all about the staring, his face immobile and half in shadow.

“This is getting us nowhere. Can’t you just say thank you and we move on?”

“Thank you,” Tristan and Meredith both said at the same time and I grinned at them, momentarily forgetting the blue Death Stare being beamed by Ben.

“It’s okay, guys. I want to help you. I love you both.”

Ben got up and left. Not a word. I didn’t go after him, sure that he’d come back and tell me what’s wrong when he’s ready.

Except he hasn’t.

23rd January

And still Ben hasn’t come back.

He’s around still doing all the normal stuff, and doing the Ben Chambers’ stoic thing where he cooks delicious food and I get to listen to him play guitar. There’s just one snag. He’s not talking to me whilst he does it.

What on earth have I done for him to act this way? I just don’t get it.

I thought about it as I jogged around the roads of Roehampton at crazy o'clock this morning. I couldn’t face the gym, so instead I decided to go for a run in the local vicinity. Thing is, the local vicinity is a little scary: a huge estate filled with towering blocks of flats. I’m sure I saw a couple of burnt-out cars, but that could have been my imagination. It’s South London, for goodness’ sake, not a bloody war zone.

It’s fair to say my jog was actually more of a fast-paced run as I tried to get out of the dodgy areas.

As I completed my fast sprint, I thought over Ben’s recent behaviour. This, in turn, made me think of our history so far. It wasn’t pretty.

It’s still not pretty, even now I’m no longer hyperventilating from dodging dark alleyways and drug deals behind wheelie bins.