Page 42 of How We Loved

March

8th March!!!

Bloody March! What the hell? It’s a miracle I even found this diary under the mountain of washing, mainly babygrows and vests, that dominate a large percentage of our bedroom. Oh and bibs. Never understood them before… now I do.

Ben has a small UK tour starting today, and Hope and I are going with him. It was never in any question because I know that if I don’t go, don’t show that this works for us as a family, it’s just going to set him back again, and that would be a tragedy. He’s writing the most beautiful lyrics and melodies.

Away from Soundbox and the combined style they developed together, he’s developed this unique sound. It’s heavenly. He’s such a stubborn arse though he’s refused the record company's request for a full album and compromised with an EP until Hope is one.

I know right! Compromised… who the hell does he think he is? Ed Bloody Sheeran?

Anyway, off we go. Me, Ben, and the baby. Oh, and Tristan and Mer… Trist has to come and give it large in his capacity as manager. His ego is now the size of a small planet. What’s the biggest planet? Oh, who knows. I can’t remember any planet names now. I can’t even remember my own name.

Later

A very strange thing just happened. Zoe called. Zoe Benedict. I’d totally forgotten she rang just as I was going into a bout with Hope. Note to self: Braxton Hicks shouldn’t be confused with ACTUAL labour. Zoe is the woman I owe my love life too. Okay, so maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but she’s definitely helped me out. Firstly, back last January when I forgot Ben’s birthday for the second time. Then again in June when I was trying to find him and get him to come home.

Anyway, it was all a bit surreal, and I’m still processing. Zoe is still at the tabloid where she went after leaving the magazine that published my Ben Birthday piece.

And now... I can hardly write it.

Okay, here we go. She wants me to serialize my diaries for the paper.

Seriously... I had to cut our conversation short because Ben was clock-watching, and I could see he was nervous about hitting the road, baby in tow for his first solo gigs. At least this time I wasn’t cutting the conversation short to push a baby out of my fanny. Small mercies and all that.

Anyway, so I kind of just left it as a ‘wow, are you for real? I’ll get back to you’. I’m not sure if I dreamed it, I could have done; I’m running on a significant lack of sleep right now. I haven’t told Ben. I don’t know. He seems pretty stressed out. I don’t want to throw another spanner into the carnage that is our existence.

As we hit the road, I couldn’t help but think about Zoe’s offer. It was tempting, of course. The chance to share my thoughts and experiences with the world is exhilarating. But at the same time, the thought is enough to make me puke. Why would anyone want to read about my life? Hell, for most of it, the first year Ben and I met we were pissed - hardly scintillating reading. Plus, let's not forget here that Ben is stupid famous; it would be like inviting cameras into our home and having butt lifts to rival the Kardashians. What would people think? What would Ben think? Would he feel embarrassed or exposed? I couldn’t take that risk. No, it’s crazy. Right. I’m going to forget about it and focus on Ben. This is his new thing. I’d say big break but he’s had that already. Big break for being solo then. The greedy bugger is having two.

10th March

I feel like Gwyneth Paltrow from two decades ago. Ben got Hope these cute little blue (let's not be guided by gender stereotypes) ear defenders, and she and I stood at the front of the stage in Manchester. The venue was much bigger than I was expecting, and I was the proper rock girlfriend down in a VIP area where some of the record execs had gathered along with Tristan and Mer. Mer wanted to hold Hope because she knew I was looking super cute and wanted in on my vibe, but I wasn’t letting go. Tristan was talking with the execs, and I actually hate to say this, but it kind of looked like he knew what he was talking about.

That’s Tris though; he’s always been a first-class bullshitter.

I did notice it was only the women that listened though. The gig was incredible. Ben was on top form. Hope looked like she was having a whale of a time in her little ear defenders. Until she fell asleep and I had to hold her in my arms that went dead after about twenty minutes. In the end, I snuck backstage and found a quiet spot to sit. I could still hear Ben though, and man I’ve never been that proud.

Never been this proud.

We’re on to Dublin now and then back over the water to Scotland and working our way down the country.