Page 27

Wet shirts

I rubbed my arms as the autumn breeze wafted through my thin jumper, waiting for Derek to collect me. I needed to get a proper coat. I dropped my bag on the floor and opened my phone.

Lucy

OMG! You were frigging amazing! How was it? xxx

Me

Really good! Everyone was super nice and I didn’t fall on my face. Ben didn’t approve, apparently xxx

Lucy

What, why? Ignore him, he does this. What was Robert like? xxx

——————

Charlie

Killed it. You killed it. *Chef’s kiss*. Don’t forget us little people when you’re famous! Tell me everything about Robert. Speaking of sexy men… DAMIEN MESSAGED ME! FIRST! He messaged me first! x

Derek drove in his usual, quiet way. I wondered if he would confront me about it all; be as angry as Susan had been. I didn’t really want to hear another rant.

“Ben is a complicated character. I don’t imagine he meant to come across so brazen,”

Derek said eventually, breaking the peaceful silence.

I looked over at him, hoping he was right.

Two days passed slowly, with me receiving even more Instagram messages and calls with offers of work. There was nothing from Ben. I was so mad at myself when my phone pinged and my heart sank at not seeing his name. He was out of line; he hadn’t turned up, he’d assumed I’d take the job. Luckily, I was wound up enough to not message him, although I did type a few angry words out a couple of times, well, fifty-odd times, before deleting them. Susan and Derek seemed pleased to have me, so I tried my best to focus on that. Guilt weighed heavy. Guilt that, when living with them should have meant everything to me, I kept thinking of Ben.

When my cast finally came off, I got another part of me back. Susan offered to take me shopping to celebrate after. Although my leg was weaker and I had to adjust my balance constantly, I felt like I glided around the shops. Picking out two-legged outfits had been a long time coming. I felt like I could finally, fully embrace the new me I was trying so hard to craft.

I was standing in the mirror that evening, trying on a few combinations, when Susan nudged the bedroom door open. Thankfully, they had a guest room – staying in the Maeve Museum would have been terrifying.

“It’s so lovely to see you on two feet,”

she said warmly. “Would you like some dinner?”

I smoothed a crinkle out of my new black t-shirt. “I was thinking of going for a walk, actually, now that I can. Only if you don’t mind, of course.”

She smiled, coming over to stand next to me beside the floor-length mirror. “Of course not. What’s up?”

I looked at myself stood next to her; I was slightly taller, but had her pale complexion.

“It’s nothing. It’s just an adjustment. My life is a constant adjustment.”

The words sounded more forlorn that I’d intended.

“It’s Ben, isn’t it? Have you two spoken yet?”

I shook my head, allowing myself to feel sad about it for just a second, before slamming the mental door firmly shut. Susan rolled her shoulders, stepping back to sit on the double bed. It was covered in lilac coloured bedding; the whole room was purple and cream, even the little teddy on the bed held a basket of dried lavender.

“You two have been through a lot. I don’t agree with how he’s behaving, but you need to talk.”

I wondered if Ben was on his own this evening. Probably. Hopefully.

When I looked at Susan, my heart sank. “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to feel like you and Derek aren’t enough. I’m so happy to be here, I am, I just… I think I might love him.”

She smiled at me. “I know.”

Instinctually, my legs took me the few steps across the cream carpet to sit beside her. I dropped my arms around her waist and she warmly squeezed me back. As I dipped my head into her chest, I was hit with an emotion that overwhelmed me from nowhere. It was warm and comforting. It was new.

We sat there for a few seconds, neither of us wanting to let go. She started stoking my loose hair and I took a deep, slow inhale. Her clothes smelt of lavender fabric conditioner.

“You know,”

she began, “I didn’t think I could love you more than I already do. But seeing the woman you’ve become, how you handle everything you’ve been dealt with such bravery, such kindness…” She adjusted one of her arms to wipe a tear from her face.

We looked at each other.

“It’s a gift. You are a gift.”

When I felt a warm tear trickle down my own cheek, Susan fumbled for some tissues on the small, wooden bedside table. As we patted at our faces, we both laughed, sharing in the moment.

“Thank you,”

I managed, choking on the words.

“Go for your walk, love. Take your time. I’ll leave something on the stove.”

“You two alright?”

Derek asked, concerned to see us both crying and laughing as he hovered in the doorway.

“We are,”

Susan assured him. “We are.”

Saturday night was pretty wild. I should have known mixing Lucy and Charlie would be chaotic, but I was happy to be dragged along for the ride.

Charlie was waiting at an elaborately converted church bar with multiple tequila shots when we found him. I smiled at his grey jeans and vibrant orange and red shirt. Funnily enough, me and Lucy had nearly matched outfits by accident. I was wearing pale blue jeans and my brand-new black corset bodysuit. I’d spotted it shopping with Susan – she’d seen me run my finger over the lace. It had felt like too much, too much of a statement, but Susan encouraged me to buy it. I’d had to ask her to fasten me into it before I left. It was nice having an occasion, and a pair of feet that could finally support some heels –the first new pair I’d ever owned. Lucy had come to Susan’s to get ready, and we’d all enjoyed a glass of wine before Derek dropped us at the station.

As I pointed out Charlie, Lucy barrelled over, kissing his cheeks with such effort he nearly tipped off his stool.

We quickly settled into each other’s company around a sticky table.

“So, tell me about Damien last night,”

I probed, sipping a wonderfully refreshing daiquiri.

Charlie shuffled on his seat excitedly. “Well, this morning—”

“This morning?”

I repeated, giving him a high five.

“You dirty finance nerds,”

Lucy scoffed as we all cheered.

“Yep, I love the boy. You can both be my bridesmaids.”

We laughed. “Steady on!”

“No, no, it’s the gay way,”

he insisted. “I was going to invite him out, actually, but I didn’t want to overstep.”

“Do it! Ben would hate this so much; let’s all have an office party,”

Lucy shouted, ordering more shots from a passing waitress.

I tried not to wince at his name. I’d told Lucy we needed some space, which she didn’t seem to think was anything unusual, so I hadn’t elaborated.

“Invite Damien,”

I encouraged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

We all got on so well; Damien was much calmer than Charlie, but had a wickedly dry sense of humour. He was dressed in a boldly patterned shirt as well, very different from his smart office attire. They insisted we take a photo.

“You look so hot, V, can I borrow the corset? Oh, I could get Damien to wear it for me!”

Charlie joked as we posed.

The bartender took a photo of the four of us holding up our glasses, faces bright with fun.

IvyMWhite Happy Saturday everyone! #bottomsup

A few people recognised me as the evening went on, but I didn’t mind. Some bought me drinks; some I took photos with. Everyone was friendly, full of life, and merrily drunk. Charlie and Damien had a hilarious time chatting up straight men and sending them to Lucy – window shopping, they called it –and Lucy enjoyed all the extra drinks, maybe a bit too much. I took a photo of Charlie and Lucy dancing around a pole together, then another of them on a table, then another as they circled a bouncer. Me and Damien chatted and looked on, enjoying the safety of the floor.

Eventually, we piled out onto the street, looking for a taxi. I was going back to Lucy’s, which was where Derek had insisted on collecting me from – we had a family meal the next day – while the guys were going back to Charlie’s again.

Suddenly, Lucy broke into a stagger towards a group of lads sitting on the roadside surrounded by a smashed glass. One dramatically clasped his bloodied hand.

“I am a nurse!”

Lucy yelled over the clatter of her heels.

I was impressed by how fast she moved before elaborately hitting the deck. Thank God we’d worn jeans. I darted after her as she tried to help them. They were all drunkenly shouting at each other as she tried to muscle in. Eventually, I convinced her to take the man to a local bar where they actually had first aid supplies. It wasn’t until we were finally in the taxi, after haphazardly grabbing some food, that we noticed Lucy had cut her hand.

“Oh my god! You’re bleeding, Lucy. She’s bleeding!”

Charlie shouted as I sat back in the seat.

I slid over and took her hand. She must have caught the glass.

“It’s alright, Charlie, we’ll sort it at home,”

I reassured him, taking off my blazer and using the sleeve to stem the bleeding.

“Thanks, honeybun, you should become be a nurse too,”

Lucy slurred happily.

I rolled my eyes and shot Damien a long-suffering look.

“Alright Lucy, just hold that, we won’t be long. You okay?”

She picked up a forkful of kebab. “I am having a wonderful time.”

Twisting suddenly, she went to yell at Charlie, but he and Damien were passionately making out, sliding against each other with the turns in the road. She looked back up at me, suddenly serious. “Ben fucking loves you,” she blurted, wielding the greasy plastic fork.

I swallowed, feeling instantly sober. At least she probably wouldn’t remember this conversation. Dropping the arm of the blazer, she grabbed my face, kissing my nose. Some sticky blood printed onto me, so I wrapped her hand back around the fabric.

I was glad Charlie was pre-occupied with snogging at that moment; he had strong opinions on the situation, constantly threatening to bundle me into his car and take me to Ben’s apartment to sort us out. He’d told me that Ben had been ‘salty’ with everyone at work, and if I didn’t do it for the overdue sex, that I should do it for them. I knew Ben had been hurt when I’d told him that I didn’t know what I wanted – he’d presumed I’d meant us – but the fact that he hadn’t even backed down long enough to talk to me about it felt sore. Charlie said he was just jealous, but being out of the apartment made me realise how intense things had been. It made me question what any of it had meant. Whether it had meant anything.

Lucy waved her fork again, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You two are a fucking nightmare, but he was more annoying on his own.”

I swallowed my guilt at not giving her the full story – that we hadn’t spoken in days; that he had been disgusted by me.

“Thank you, bitches, for an excellent night,”

Charlie announced, almost spilling his can of Coke all over the taxi. “Thank you, Damien, for being such a sexy information technicality man!”

“Alright, Charlie, let’s get you a coffee at home,”

Damien said, shooting me another look.

“Ivy finds my brother sexy!”

Lucy shouted.

I laughed abruptly, feeling strange as it rippled out. I took them all in, laughing and shouting and making fools of themselves. It was the best night out I’d ever had. My toes were sticky and my clothes smelt of alcohol and I was okay. It was okay. It was fun.

“Do you need me to pay the babysitter, Lucy?”

I asked as we turned down her road.

She cackled in response and I raised my eyebrows. I would have to deal with that when we got there, I supposed.

We staggered up the path through the torrential rain whilst I hooked Lucy’s arm over my shoulders, trying to get her to move faster. Charlie had offered to help, insisting that he make sure we get home safe, so Damien had held the taxi and I’d handed Charlie the key I’d taken from Lucy’s bag. I saw the porch light flicker on, grateful that I hadn’t been left to deal with Lucy all on my own.

Lucy’s heel hit a bump in the grass in the front garden and she dramatically twisted to the floor, dragging me with her as the rain tore at our faces. The grass thumped cold and wet underneath us as we collapsed in a pile of giggles.

“Oh, hello,”

I heard Charlie babble in the background as the door opened.

Lucy decided to completely roll on top of me in a fit of laughter, rain dripping off her hair onto me. I blinked as everything went dark and blurry.

“Oh Ivy, you are so sexy! Oh V, I love you!”

My body shook with laughter; I couldn’t even fight her off. She was so full of drunken exuberance that we became a mess of thrashing arms and splashing water. The wet mud seeped through my jeans, sticking them to my legs.

“Lucy! It’s bloody soaking wet, get off me, you drunken idiot!”

“Oh, Ivy!”

she continued, grunting as she was swiftly heaved off me and over Ben’s shoulder.

Ben.

I lay in the mud for a second, confused, propping myself up on my forearms and blinking away more rain. He thrust his hand out again. I watched a drip run down one of his fingers, hesitating to reach out.

“What are you two doing?”

He sounded so serious compared to the rest of them.

I tentatively took his hand as he pulled me easily to my feet. In my head, I’d imagined this moment – standing before him on two legs again – but, even with heels, I felt small, physically and emotionally.

“Thanks,”

I mumbled.

His hand felt electric in mine as we stood in the rain and Lucy thrashed against him. I think he felt it too, because he swiftly pulled away, turning his back to me and taking her inside.

“V?”

Charlie questioned, snapping me out of my trance as I stood there, curling my fingers. He looked decidedly awkward and suddenly sober.

“Thank you, I’ll go make sure she’s okay.”

He leant in and gripped my shoulders. “Are you okay? I thought you didn’t go into details with Lucy? Did she set this up?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. I didn’t know he’d be here.”

The rain dribbled cold down my face as I clutched my arms.

“Do you want to come back with us?”

he offered kindly.

I winced as Lucy yelled something about her kebab. “I’ll text Derek. It’ll be fine.”

“Go get inside, then, but let me know what happens. Don’t take any more shit,”

he insisted, pulling me in for a soggy hug.

As I pushed the front door shut, I could hear Lucy shouting after me from the downstairs toilet. My breath slowed when I saw Ben rummaging under the sink unit while Lucy sat on the toilet seat, water dribbling from her flattened hair.

“Shush, you’ll wake your kids,”

I tried, hooking a hand towel from the warmer around her shoulders.

Seeing the blood on her hand in the light, I picked up a flannel strewn by the sink and started wiping it, keeping my back to Ben. It was my fault. I should have told Lucy everything. Clearly, she thought this whole thing had been hilarious, hence the rolling around in the grass.

“Lucy, you still have a piece of glass in there, for Christ’s sake,”

I scolded.

Ben found the first aid box as I twisted round. Looking down into the box, my heart thumped. I pulled out the tweezers. I couldn’t even face the sight of his fingers on the box, the fingers that had made me feel such a spectrum of emotions.

His hands suddenly shot to my face, tilting my chin. “What happened?”

he asked, alarmed, looking at my cheeks.

His fingers felt warm and firm, too familiar, as were the hints of aftershave tickling my nose; the warmth of his eyes as they bore into mine.

“I…”

I choked, pausing for far too long. “It’s Lucy’s blood.”

“Hello?”

Lucy trilled. “Can this be about me, please, for once?”

I turned, causing Ben’s fingers to drop. Thank god for Lucy, as always.

Ben shuffled out of the door, leaving us alone.

Luckily, the glass was easy to remove and the wound was fairly small. I bandaged it up and convinced her to get into bed – though wrestled might have been a more realistic word. When I pulled the door shut to her bedroom, I headed downstairs to the kitchen to get her a drink.

“Do I need to take her in?”

Ben’s deep voice echoed.

He was walking towards me as I opened the cupboard doors, trying to find the glasses. My mind was racing. I couldn’t think. I was almost just opening and shutting the doors for the sake of it.

Casual as ever, he opened one I’d already looked in and handed me a glass.

I paused before taking it. “No, I got it out, I’m sure she’ll look when she regains her senses in the morning.”

We were stood barely two steps away from one another. It was too much, too tense. It was a rush of deleted text messages all over again, but this time in my head. I filled the glass and walked past him, biting down on my tongue, to take the water to Lucy. Running away.

When I’d tucked her in on her side, leaving a wastepaper bin close, I texted Derek, asking him to head over. My teeth were sugary and my vision diluted; I felt like a wounded animal, knowing this wasn’t the time for a fight.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,”

I said nervously, forced to face him again downstairs.

Ben looked different than before – somehow even more serious – as I allowed myself to look at him properly. I was used to him firing out lines and teasing. He looked… tired.

“I thought Lucy would’ve said.”

We kept to opposing sides of the kitchen. He stood perfectly still as I shuffled across on my feet.

“No. I’ve texted Derek. He’s on his way.”

“Oh.”

“She’s pretty drunk, are you staying?”

I asked, chewing the inside of my lip, desperately analysing his every move.

“Yeah. I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

“Good.”

There was a long, horrible, torturous pause. I sensed Ben’s eyes on me.

“How’s your leg?”

he asked quietly.

I drew a shallow breath at the thought, wiggling my toes as they ached from wearing the heels all night; marks from the leather indented across my feet. “Fine, thanks, having the cast off is a big relief.”

He nodded.

My wet clothes clung, heavy, and my skin prickled with goosebumps. “I’m going to find some dry clothes,”

I explained, walking away. It was a physical relief to leave the room.

My skin felt like ice when I wrenched off my jeans. I’d grabbed one of Lucy’s t-shirts from a clean washing pile and found a pair of tracksuit bottoms. Reaching back to unhook my corset, I remembered how I’d needed Susan to do it up. I was trapped.

“Crap,” I cursed.

I caught myself in the mirror – smudged black eyes, and a small smear of Lucy’s blood on my face. I ran the time down until Derek arrived, cleaning myself up, delaying facing the six-foot something heartbreak loitering outside. I’d thought about seeing him, about what I’d say, but the reality was too much, especially when my brain was laced with tequila. I sucked in a breath and pulled the clothes on over the corset. The wet shape seeped through the material almost immediately, but I refused to ask Ben to undo my top.

I tried to stride out as confidently as I could. Ben was leaning against the worktop as I got to the landing between the stairs and the door. He immediately put his phone on the worktop and headed towards me. I saw his eyes fall to my dampened chest.

He looked up at me questioningly. “Everything okay?”

“Yep.”

I felt my fingernails press into my palms.

He nodded. After everything, neither of us had a thing to say to each other.

My phone buzzed. “Derek’s outside,”

I said slowly, not moving.

“Oh,”

Ben replied, in the same tone as before. He almost looked… defeated?

Wincing inwardly, I walked to the door, but I couldn’t turn the handle. I couldn’t just walk away, not from him, not like this. I turned to find his eyes ready to lock with mine. They seemed to scream a thousand words, but I needed them from his lips. I needed something. My mouth twitched, but I scolded myself, supressing the desperate impulse to apologise for everything and nothing and just run back into his arms. I couldn’t. I needed something from him in that moment, after not coming home, after what he had said. It was his move, his turn to reach out.

Come on Ben, please. Give me something. Convince me it was real.

He said nothing, so I left.