Page 80 of How We Began

Take it.

It’s going to hurt, fuck will it hurt, but the pain would be worth it.

I linked my fingers in his. “Sounds great, although as we aren’t proper boyfriend and girlfriend, I think I should ask for separate rooms.”

The press of his lips against mine cut off my little giggle. It was only a short kiss but I didn’t let him escape. May as well make good use of the tree whilst we were standing there.

Ten minutes later we headed back to the bar, readjusting our clothes as we went, to find Tristan and Meredith on their second bottle of champagne. This time Ben really did congratulate them, giving me a wink as he did.

I’m not sure what the wink meant. Actually, I’m not sure of anything right now. All I know is that he’s asked me to go away with him and it’ll just be me and him, and that’s got to be a good thing.

3rd February

Went to look at a flat with Meredith and Tristan. It was a complete shit hole. I made it to the kitchen and then walked out.

It’s not that I am a complete snob (maybe a partial snob), although I’m aware that the flat in Putney is luxury to say the least, but I’d expect someone to at least clean a little if they have prospective buyers coming around. This place was disgusting. It smelled like someone had been violently sick and left it for a week. There were dirty takeaway cartons everywhere and ashtrays full of dead spliffs.

What an absolute waste of time and lung capacity. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to get that stench out of my nose and off my clothes. I told the estate agent not to bother showing us a place like that again.

He apologised profusely and said that it would never happen again.

4th February

It happened again.

This time there was a man still asleep on top of the bed just wearing a pair of dirty stained boxers. To be fair, he looked more surprised than us, but I think I can safely say it will be hard to visualise that bedroom ever again without also seeing a large hairy man prone on the bed legs akimbo.

Not good.

Ben thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard when I told him about it.

He’s not helping with the flat search, for obvious reasons, since it is not like he will ever be spending any time there.

Oh, just kick me when I am down.

Ten days to Valentine's Day. I don’t know whether to get a card or not.

5th February

Professor Johnson, one of our lecturers, is the craziest man I’ve ever encountered. He leaps from desk to desk attempting to keep us all awake, blinding us with information as he attempts to coax us into some form of class participation. He normally manages it, hell, sometimes I even forget to go red whilst answering questions. Okay, I’m sure I still go a little pink, but at least I haven’t burped out loud in class for a while.

This morning he talked about Elizabeth I, and her supposed love affair with Robert Dudley. Imagine being so sexually frustrated that you have people’s heads cut off for fun. Oh, I know that is not really what happened, that would be so much better. I might even write an essay entitled, “How to fabricate history to make it more exciting.” Maybe I should become a professional historian and that can be a specialist subject: How to recognise sexually repressed figures throughout History. Ooh. I quite like that.

I’m thinking of ending a love affair of my own.

No, not with Ben. We all know that’s ending anyway. I realised this morning whilst on the Cross Trainer that I can’t really afford the gym anymore. I think my keep fit regime will have to continue by taking my life into my own hands, and jogging around South West London with fear-induced adrenaline.

I wonder if I can get my money back?

Oooh. I just had another thought. Richmond Park is just down the road. I could run around there. I don’t think it’s that big.

6th February

It’s big. It’s very, very big with lots of scary deer with trees growing out of their heads.

I just about made it to class but now I need to die a million deaths whilst my legs recover. I’m beginning to think that trying to be fit and healthy has some serious drawbacks. The drawbacks being extreme pain and agony.

Sod being thin and healthy. I would rather go back to being frumpy and dumpy again. At least I could use my legs the majority of the time.