Page 43 of How We Loved

April

1st April

Hope and I are back home in London.

I guess the truth is I’ve been so busy since we’ve got back (well, apart from the two-hour nap I needed as soon as we got in) that I haven’t let myself think properly about the offer from Zoe.

I’m still shocked by it.

The tour noises were insane. I realise now that I’d forgotten how incredible it is to be in a space where so many people are buzzing over one person. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Ben sing live that I’d forgotten how incredible he is.

It’s not even something as cliché as magnetism or genius; it’s just him. Ben.

Ben is buzzing too. And working. He’s been so inspired since the tour.

Looks like he’s going to have more than one EP. There’s a reason Radio One has called him the breakout artist of the year. (Radio One! Come on!)

The tour isn’t over; we’ve just got a few days at home, and I’m realising just how quickly time is passing. I guess I thought that I’d be back to uni by now, but I’m not.

I’m following Ben around.

I probably should have made an effort to take Hope to some baby groups; she’s five months old, and she’s this little rock world baby. Has she even seen another baby before apart from Ben's sisters?

I don’t know.

Everything is happening too quickly. I can’t keep up; it’s like being in a never-ending marathon, and no one will let me stop for a bottle of water and one of those sponges the runners squeeze over their heads. Which has made me decide something pretty profound.

I’ve just got to tell Ben, and I’m not sure how it’s going to go. I mean, we’ve been having sex since we got back. And it’s been… Christ, I can’t even find the words. I think it’s because we’ve been so deprived of contact for such a long time. Ah, he’s home from seeing Baz. I guess there’s no time like the present. I’ll report back shortly.

Later

Okay.

I did it.

I told him.

He took it well.

I mean, he said no, but his no was more of a ‘let’s think about it’.

“Ben,” I started. He was in the kitchen making up the formula. I’d bathed Hope, and she was in my arms, smelling gorgeous, with fluffy dark hair that was soft and kissable. She also had a firm fistful of my hair, so when I walked in and Ben turned to look at us, he quickly stepped closer and untangled her fingers. “Man, she’s got a grip.”

“Yep, I’m trying to think of a future career it would be useful for, but I’m coming up blank.” He took her from me and placed her on his chest so she could look bright-eyed over his shoulder, and I took over milk duty. “It’s so good to be home, isn’t it?”

He gave me a wan smile. “I’ve become lazy, totally forgotten how brutal being on the road can be.”

“You’re not doing enough sit-ups.”

His mouth curved at the edges. “And here I am hoping this solo tour will show my musical skill, my talent as a songwriter. I’d like to think the days of abs are behind me.”

Darn it. I shook my head vehemently. “There will always be some drunk woman shouting from the crowd, ‘Show us your bod.’”

“Lilah.” He took a bottle and popped it into the bottle warmer. “That’s just you.”

“And there I was thinking you couldn’t hear me.”

“My love, you’re like a foghorn.”