You're the One That I Want (16 page)

I took us to the nearest pub I could find. It wasn’t one we’d ever been to before; we usually headed out to places that were nearer to campus where there would be loads of people we knew and a good vibe, but that night I didn’t care for friends or atmosphere. I just wanted to get shitfaced. That’s how we ended up in the Red Fox, a dingy little pub, only minutes away from mine. We must have walked passed it hundreds of times in our three years in Bristol, but never had any desire to venture through its doors. Outside, the pub’s crest-shaped sign swung wildly in the breeze from one hook, rather than two, it’s paintwork was flaky and peeling off, and burly men with ‘England ’til I die’ tattoos puffed on cigarettes while arguing about the football. Inside wasn’t much better with its den-like appearance. A lack of windows made it dark and the little peach-coloured lamps were near useless in their bid to brighten the place up. A pokey-sized place filled with wooden benches, covered in worn-down cushions, and sticky tables. It was uninviting, but I didn’t care. It served alcohol and that was all I wanted.

It didn’t take me long to accomplish my goal for the night, especially since I was ordering double Sambuca shots with every drink we ordered. Curled away in a dark corner
of the pub, hidden from the locals, we drank, whined about everything that was wrong with life and laughed at the stupidity of it all. The world was starting to turn into a blurry mess, and that was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to numb myself to the heartache Robert had caused, to distance myself from his infidelity. To forget. It didn’t work; eventually I’d slip back into thinking about him, cursing myself as I did so. I couldn’t help it. It was a pretty big deal to be dropped so carelessly by someone you’d loved for so long. And worse, for them to do so over the phone, telling you that not only did they mislay your trust but, perhaps, it would be best if they were to become a ‘free spirit’ for now, while they were still young and devoid of responsibility. Yes. That was the terminology Robert used. Free spirit … he’d picked a fine time to turn into a hippy.

I hadn’t seen it coming. Even though we lived miles apart, there was never a single time in those three years when I fretted about other girls, not seriously, nothing that was more than playful banter between the two of us. I’d trusted him, I thought I had no reason not to.

Hours into our heartbreak-drinking session, silence engulfed me as I stared into the bottom of my glass, hoping it would give me answers to the never-ending stream of questions that bubbled away inside me, that threatened to make me blub once more.

‘Penny for your thoughts,’ Ben smiled, pulling out a one-pence piece from his jeans pocket and placing it on the table in front of me. He couldn’t help but laugh at his own joke.

‘You know, I was just wondering why he’d do that to me.’

‘Oh Mad …’ he said sadly, his face falling with concern.

‘Am I not clever enough?’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘Maybe she was one of his sporting pals, all trim and toned – am I not fit enough?’

‘You’re being ridiculous, there’s nothing wrong with you.’

‘Maybe I should’ve joined you on more bike rides,’ I moaned sarcastically.

‘Nah …’

‘Am I not pretty enough?’ I slurred.

‘Of course you are,’ he said with exasperation.

‘Am I not sexy enough?’

‘Well, I –’

‘I mean, I’ve changed a lot over the years – there he is looking like the bloody Hulk and here’s me, always eating one or two chocolate Hobnobs more than I should.’

‘Why are you talking about chocolate Hobnobs?’

‘Because they’re always on my mind,’ I moaned. ‘See? Mr Fitness Freak with little Miss Piggy was never going to work.’

‘You’re not little Miss Piggy.’

‘Am I not good enough to be with him?’ I continued. ‘He was the popular kid, what did I think I was doing. He’s so out of my league.’

‘He really isn’t.’

‘What did I do wrong, Ben?’ I begged, persisting to badger him with my self-doubt, longing for my friend to tell me what I’d done to get myself into such a sorry mess.

‘Nothing. You did nothing wrong,’ he said, reaching
across the table to take my hand, which he firmly squeezed three times – for once it failed to comfort me.

‘I must have,’ I shrugged. ‘He shacked up with someone else. Some floozy.’

‘You didn’t do anything. You’re absolutely perfect, Maddy.’

‘Hardly.’

‘No, you are. It’s so annoying that you can’t see that.’

‘Oh Ben, lovely Ben,’ I cooed, leaning into him and resting my head on his shoulder. ‘I can always rely on you to make me smile.’

‘You really can, Maddy … I’ll always be here.’

‘If you were my boyfriend, I know you’d make me smile every day. You’d never give me any of this crap.’

‘I’d try my best to make you happy, that’s for sure …’

‘And you would!’ I chirped over the top of him. ‘You’d never have done this to me – you’re too kind and loving.’

‘You’re not so bad yourself. As people go.’

‘Tell me, Ben. Tell me what else you would’ve done if you were Mr Maddy Hurst,’ I said, sitting up and facing him, enjoying the silliness of the conversation.

‘I’d have made sure you knew exactly how special you are and how much you meant to me,’ he said, smiling at me.

‘And how would you have done that?’

He took a few seconds to think about his answer before saying, ‘I’d have started by telling you how much I’ve loved you since the very first day I saw you.’

‘Nice touch, bringing up our history – that’s priceless. Not a soul can compete with a lifetime of memories.’

He laughed before picking up his half-f pint of beer and downing its contents.

‘You’d have been a lovely boyfriend,’ I said, placing a hand on his arm. ‘I totally picked the wrong best friend to snog in Paris.’

‘Cheers,’ he said quietly, playing with his empty glass before holding it up to show me it needed refilling. ‘Fancy another?’

‘Do you even have to ask?’ I cheekily grinned, as I held up my own depleted drink.

I watched him plod off to the bar and wait for the barmaid to come – it was quiet, even though it was a Friday night, but that didn’t make her serve him any quicker, as she languidly continued to clean glasses while talking to one of her locals, oblivious to Ben standing there. Not that he was trying to get her attention, though. He wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he had his elbows up on the bar and was resting his head in his hands, rubbing his forehead. Something was clearly on his mind – he appeared agitated.

In my drunken state, it dawned on me that he’d spoken to Robert before I had, that he’d already confessed everything to Ben before calling me with the delightful news. I wondered if Robert had gone into more detail with him. Told him something that Ben felt uncomfortable knowing – perhaps also promising not to tell me. In the few minutes it had taken Ben to acquire the barmaid’s attention and come back with our drinks, I had convinced myself that it was the case. He knew things I didn’t, and I wanted to find out what they were.

‘Out with it,’ I practically barked at him as soon as his bum was back on the cushioned bench.

‘What?’

‘There’s something you’re not telling me.’

‘No, there’s not,’ he protested, but the reddening of his cheeks told me otherwise. They goaded me on, told me he was lying, that there was more he was keeping from me.

‘I know you know something about Robert,’ I insisted.

‘I don’t.’

‘He told you something, didn’t he?’

‘No, he really didn’t.’

‘Did he tell you not to tell me?’

‘What is this? There’s nothing to tell you, Mad,’ he said, his voice rising in panic at being put on the spot. His eyes were wider than ever as they proclaimed his innocence, but the clenching of his jaw and the guilty swallowing of bile fought against his claim.

‘You can’t keep a secret from me, Ben.’

‘There’s no secret.’

‘There is. Don’t lie.’

‘I’m not lying.’

‘Then why have you gone red?’

‘Because you’re being an idiot.’

‘I can’t believe you’re covering for him.’

‘Mad, I’m not,’ he sighed, looking more and more distressed.

‘You’re my best friend too, Ben. I know you two have this brotherly love thing going on, but you’re meant to be looking out for me as well.’

‘I’m always looking out for you,’ he frowned, hurt by my accusation.

‘Clearly not if you’re willing to side with him and keep secrets from me. What has he told you? Was it more than
one time? Different girls? Is it more than sex? Has he finished with me for her? Because you might as well tell me, I’ll find out sooner or later. I’ll be seeing them together. It’s better if it comes from you,’ I ranted, the alcohol and hurt causing me to push him further than I would normally.

‘It’s not about Robert,’ he blurted, looking shocked that the words had leapt from his mouth.

‘So there is something?’

‘Maddy. Please, just leave it,’ he groaned, looking around the pub as though he was looking for a way out of the very tight spot I had him trapped in.

‘Ben, what is it?’

I was relieved it was nothing to do with Robert, but the way Ben was acting troubled me. He was acting all sketchy and weird – there was definitely something troubling him and I wanted to find out what.

‘Ben, you can tell me. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You can tell me anything …’

‘You don’t get it, do you?’ he asked, his large Bambi-like eyes searching my face to see if I had even the smallest inkling of what he was hiding. I didn’t. I hadn’t the foggiest. He looked back down at the floor in despair.

‘Get what?’ I pleaded, taking his hand, my voice calmer than before. I hated seeing the torment on his face.

He took a deep breath to steady himself before he looked up and faced me, his eyes looking straight into mine.

‘I love you.’

‘Of course you do. I love you too,’ I smiled, stupidly
tapping him on the nose in a childish manner, a cringeworthy reaction to his words.

‘No, not like that,’ he said, getting frustrated with himself, or perhaps at me. ‘Maddy, I mean it, I really love you.’

I suddenly felt very sober as I watched my best friend literally spill his heart out. It was the last thing I expected to hear that day, but then again, I didn’t expect to get a call from my boyfriend telling me he’d cheated as he promptly ended our relationship either. It was a day of surprises.

‘But –’

‘Yes, I know, I know. Things are how they are … but if I had to wait a lifetime to be with you I would, because you’re the one I’ve always wanted to be with.’

‘You don’t mean that, Ben.’

‘I do.’

‘You can’t … you’re just drunk.’ I tried to laugh but the seriousness of the situation caused it to bubble in my throat and wither away.

‘I always have, though. You’ve always been the girl for me.’

With that, he leaned forward and gently placed his hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin. He paused and looked at me, really looked at me, inspecting my face with what could only be described as love and wonder. It was a look filled with meaning, the first time he was allowed to look at me with his heart open and the pretence dropped. The change and intensity enticed me. I could feel myself mirroring him, fascinated by the shift of emotion that felt strange yet familiar all at once – I knew that face, I knew him, but there was a new depth that I felt compelled to explore. It excited me. Thrilled me. Drew me in.

He edged his face closer to mine, focusing his eyes on my lips, that were just centimetres from his, and paused once more – something that wasn’t done on purpose to add suspense, but because he was nervous. As was I.

‘You okay?’ he asked, looking back up at my eyes.

I nodded, knowing what was about to happen, not wanting to stop it.

‘Good,’ he whispered, as he slowly leaned closer and kissed me. The touch sent an unexpected surge through my body. I pulled away and looked back into his eyes – noticing the love had been replaced by hunger. In that moment I felt like I wanted and needed him more than I’d ever wanted anything else.

The second time we kissed, it was me who leaned forward and cushioned my lips against his. As I pulled away I couldn’t help but grin at him, making me shake my head and sigh into my hands.

‘What is it?’ he smiled.

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this.’

‘Neither can I,’ he said softly, removing my hands from my face and kissing me back.

We sat at that corner table in the pub, gazing at each other with our new-found admiration and kissing like giddy love-struck teenagers, until closing time. When we were eventually kicked out (the barmaid made no effort to disguise her haste to get home as she swooped up our half-finished drinks), we aimlessly wandered around Bristol holding hands as though it was the most natural thing for us to be doing.

Ben stopped when we got to the river and pulled me
round so that my back was against the railings with him stood in front of me.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he beamed.

I smiled, it was strange hearing him say that.

‘I mean it. I’ve always thought so,’ he said, lowering his head for another kiss. ‘It feels so good to do that …’ he grinned. ‘I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to.’

‘Ben, why haven’t you said anything before? I mean, if you’ve seriously felt this way since we were kids, why did you keep it a secret?’

‘I was scared it would ruin our friendship if you rejected me.’

I couldn’t help but laugh.

‘… and then you got with Robert.’

‘Oh …’ Just the mention of his name caused a tug inside me. There’s only so long you can live in a fantasy world before the reality comes along to sharply put you back in your place. I pushed those thoughts away. Reminding myself that he didn’t want me, he’d slept with someone else. I didn’t owe him anything, I thought, as I concentrated on Ben – lovely Ben, who did want me and who I knew would never hurt me in the same way.