Page 31

The Beginning

When the doorbell chimed at midday, I was there. Sophie burst through the door mid-ramble, and Lucy followed in an obvious panic, dragging Isac past the small iron gate.

“Hi Sophie, Isac, come on in.”

I just about managed to maintain a cheerful tone. “This is Susan and Derek.” I gestured to my parents as the three of them entered the small hallway.

Derek was sat in the lounge, but we could see him through the door, his ankle propped up on a stool.

“I made gingerbread men. I thought you could help me decorate them,”

Susan told Sophie and Isac excitedly.

I looked at Lucy, who was completely fraught, following her back outside so we could talk.

“So, he’s out?”

I fumbled as quickly as I could form the words.

She nodded. “They’re releasing him now. No charges, thank god. I swear Ivy, I would’ve lost it. I would have actually lost my shit this time.”

I agreed, nodding, hugging her tightly as she clung to me.

“I wouldn’t have worked with the police on any of it, not until they released him. We would have found a way.”

“I know, I know. Are you sure you’ll be okay with the kids? Thank you so much for this. Thank Susan again for me.”

I smiled at her as we withdrew. “Of course, Susan has baked three whole trays of biscuits; it’s been the first time she’s smiled in days. Just… ask him to text me or call me, will you? Or something. Just… let me know that you’re both alright.”

“Of course,”

she replied, relaxing slightly and pulling her keys out of her pocket. “It’ll take just under an hour to get to Rose Cottage, he needs to go there and calm down. I spoke to Catherine and sorted it all.”

“Good. How did you convince him?”

“‘Convince’ isn’t the word I’d use. He ran into a burning building after more than twenty years of repressing his feelings about Dad, not to mention everything else. He needs time. He could have got into serious trouble.”

“I know. I feel awful.”

“I know, but listen…”

She took my hands. “I was starting to worry he couldn’t care anymore, you know? Yes, this is all a mess, but I don’t remember ever seeing him like this. Saturday morning, he was so worked up because he hadn’t spoken to you. I barely had time to sober up. He never talks to me about stuff. When Susan called, he lost it. I mean, dick move from you.” She smiled, but I could tell she was only half joking. “How could you not tell me you’d fallen out like that? I know what he’s like, believe me.” She squeezed my fingers. “You don’t keep secrets, okay, not about weird text messages, or my idiot brother. Not from me. I bloody love you, but I swear I’m going to bang both your heads together, Jesus Christ.”

Some part of me deep inside clicked into place, like it had always been there.

“I love you too,”

I said, smiling.

I took a second to gather myself before I went back into the house. Isac was hovering by the door to the lounge, shuffling nervously.

I popped a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “What did you bring in your backpack? Is that a spaceship on it?”

He nodded shyly. I gently took the bag and led him to the rug between the sofas. Looking through the bag, I found a new magazine with some toy cars attached to the front.

“This is Derek, my dad. He’s one of the people I was looking for, remember?”

Isac nodded, still unsure.

“He loves puzzles, and when he was young, he used to fix motorbikes. In fact, he is very good at making things and fixing things.”

The sound of Sophie giggling rang through the house from the kitchen. I started going through the glossy pages with Isac while Derek took the cars out of the packaging.

We were halfway through lunch when my phone finally buzzed.

Lucy

I’ve just dropped him off to get his car and some other stuff. I’m staying to make sure he goes. His phone is totally dead, but he’s okay, I think. It’s hard to tell, to be honest. Are the kids behaving? xx

Me

Oh, thank god. Of course they are. Sophie is decorated like a gingerbread man herself, I’m afraid, and Isac and Derek started sketching out some sort of racetrack to build. What did Ben say? xx

Lucy

A lot, as you would imagine. Asked about you, mostly. I’ve offered to stay with him, to get the kids for the weekend. I don’t like the idea of him being on his own, but you know what he’s like xx

Me

I agree, not after the fire. I could go, to support him. I could get the train? xx

There was a long pause. I could see her three dots bouncing up and down on the screen.

Lucy

You need to rest xx

Me

I’m fine xx

Lucy

Even if that were true, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. You can’t drive, you two haven’t even spoken, and Ben is not in his right mind right now xx

Me

If it were you or me, he’d go. We don’t need to talk about before, but he shouldn’t be on his own. I can get the train, I know the way xx

Lucy

Susan and Derek need you, Derek needs to rest, not worry about you xx

Me

It’s Ben… xx

Lucy

Exactly xx

Another pause.

I re-read the messages. My pulse quickened at the thought. The thought of him on his own was wrong. I was sure he’d be exhausted, and probably not excited to see me, but he’d been there when I needed someone so many times. I could always come back if it went badly.

Lucy

Look, he’s my brother, so this is hard. I care about you both, a lot. Go if you want to, but only if you’re in love with him like he is with you. Please. I’m worried about him. Think about it. I’ll see you when I get back xxx

The train whirred as the fields merged in a blur of green.

I’d already known the answer to Lucy’s question. With each passing station, my nerves grew. My brain played out a hundred things he might say as he opened the door – many of them negative. Susan and Derek hadn’t disagreed with me going. In fact, Derek had said, in front of Lucy, that I should go, because ‘Ben needs people’. Then, just as I’d thought my emotional tank was full, Isac had tapped me on the shoulder. He’d pulled out a photograph, set in a decorated cardboard frame he’d made, from Lucy’s bag. It was of me and Ben at their house when we’d gone over for dinner; when I’d given Isac the camera.

I took the photo frame from my weekend bag and put it on the train table. I touched my fingertip to the glossy faces. We had been laughing, not realising anyone was watching. The way I was looking at him – eyes wide, teeth showing, the way he was looking at me – captivated… who would have known those two people had a care in the world?

The train journey was surreal, and I’d had to rush to catch it. It had been a relief that I didn’t have time to stress about what to wear. I’d felt strange slipping into the green velvet underwear set I knew he liked; it felt presumptuous, and inappropriate, but I liked it, so why wouldn’t I wear that, right? The dark mauve, short, belted dress had been an easier choice.

I decided I’d call a taxi at other end for the last bit of the journey: the fifteen minutes Lucy had driven in a frenzy all those months ago. I wondered, if me and Ben had met as two normal people that day, if I’d just been a neighbour, or something simpler, whether we would have been drawn together like we had been. I considered how things would have developed if we’d just had sex, if that was all this really was after all? Attraction? Maybe Ben had just been acting on his sense of duty?

The thought felt like a splinter.

Could we really know how we both felt, in amongst all the mess?

As my station was called, a missed call came through. My signal had been dipping in and out throughout the journey.

Ben

Tell me you’re okay? How’s Derek? I only just got my phone working. I tried to call, but it rang through xxxxx

Me

Thank god they let you out. Me and Lucy were so worried. I’m so sorry, I told them to let you go. Told them I wouldn’t co-operate, but it was no good. Are you okay? Derek is fine, back home recovering. I’m fine.

Ben

I was worried about you, too. I’ll be following it up. The whole thing was absurd. How are your lungs? Derek’s heart? Lucy said you had the kids, are they alright? Are you not home? We need to talk. I need to talk to you about everything. I meant to on Saturday. I should have xxxxx

Me

I’m on the train x

Ben

Why are you on a train?

The brakes screeched and I made my way onto the platform at the familiar little station. Standing there was surreal, but the taxi I’d called was ready and waiting, so I didn’t dwell on the feeling. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but I asked the driver to drop me at the top of the road, where the verge started. Part of me was nervous about seeing Ben, wanting to prolong the moment. A silly, sentimental part of me wanted everything to come full circle.

The verge squelched under my feet. I paused in the dark, remembering the awkwardness of our exchange when I’d left on foot for the station before. I thought about how my heart had skipped a beat when Ben followed me and reached for my arm. My phone buzzed in my pocket again. I was committed, so I ignored it and kept walking. I didn’t want to read his text telling me not to come. I’d known that day that I should’ve just walked away, yet every part of me had wanted to stay.

The front of Rose Cottage appeared piece by piece as I slowed, letting go of my memories and feeling the more real nerves of the present. It was hard to make out in the dark, but the light was on downstairs, reflecting off the silver Audi parked in exactly the same spot to the side. I rested a hand on the little gate, looking down the path I’d first walked with Lucy. Back when she had stopped. Of all the people, she had stopped.

I toyed with the idea of it being fate, but that would mean everything that had occurred before that pivotal moment was also meant to happen.

Getting into Ben’s Audi for the first time had been nerve-wracking. I’d felt giddy and foolish, suddenly alone with him. Looking back, it made no sense for him to have been so insistent.

My feet dared to crunch down the path, heading round to the side, towards the light, but as I was drawing a deep breath, the white door swung open, the light from the house highlighting Ben. His dark hair was wet, swept away from his handsome face, his smart glasses perched on his nose, hiding his soulful eyes. He was wearing jeans; nothing else – just out of the shower, no doubt.

I stilled.

He stared.

The breeze dragged loose hair over my face. I tucked it back, forcing a smile.

He didn’t smile back. He strode barefoot down the path to where I stayed rooted, sweeping me up into his arms. I let out a strained whimper as his fingers laced through my hair and he held me, wrapping his familiar body around mine. I could smell his soap; his aftershave. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.

Leaning back, he took my face in his warm hands, running his eyes all over me as we stood in the front garden, surrounded by rose bushes.

“I’m alright,”

I whispered instinctively, seeing the panic in his eyes.

His thumbs moved over my cheeks. “How? Why did you come?”

I felt myself smile as everything stilled in the way it always did with him, as every other thought and doubt and feeling fizzled away.

I shrugged, keeping my arms around his back. “Because.”

We looked at each other for another rich, full second. Neither of us had any words. Maybe we didn’t need them. I hadn’t seen him this raw, this fraught, before.

Then his mouth broke into a smile, his shoulders lowering, relaxing against me. That was enough. That said it all between us somehow.

He bent down, scooping me up and easily tucking my legs around his waist. I pressed my lips to his, shutting my eyes and gripping his neck. I didn’t need to know anything else in that moment; all I needed was him. His hand was pressed into my shoulder blades, keeping our chests together, stopping me from falling back.

Until I bounced steadily on top of a mattress.

The second he drew away, I pulled him closer, my body raging with an overwhelming urgency, appeased only by his frantic, breathy kisses. His tongue pushed my lips apart, sending my body arching further into his as his fingers ran all over me – up my legs, across my hips, over my face. I needed him everywhere, all over me, all at once. He dragged his lips from mine as his fingers fought the poppers of my navy coat, the layers of clothing peeling away. Each piece bought us closer, but it wasn’t enough. My hands roved his bare back; my nails gripping as he swiped my dress off in one motion, immediately finding my breasts, cupping and kissing.

My head tilted back with a groan as I reached for his trousers and felt him. Felt him fully. Appreciated his hardness with my palm and tugged at his belt. He lifted his head, gasping for air as he kicked them off. I couldn’t help but laugh as he hesitated while pulling my tights off. We laughed together, temporarily broken out of our lustful haze, remembering. We settled back into each other’s company like we always did. It was easy. Complete.

When his nose pressed into the lace of my green underwear, my nails dug deeper into his firm shoulders. I felt every part of my body, head to toe, as his tongue slipped a long, ravenous stroke at my margins. We had touched each other tenderly, admired and caressed each other for weeks, but this was nothing like before. This was driven purely by need; a long, stifled need. His eyes shot to me as a wicked grin spread across his face. Dropping to his knees, he pulled me to the edge of the bed, fingers marking my thighs. I gasped, but he didn’t stop. He slid off my underwear. After all that time, after all that tension and build up, he was finally between my legs, both of us drunk on each other and wanting more, needing more.

We were finally about to have it all.

The cool air hit my sensitive skin first as I was exposed, then I felt his warm breath and soft, slick tongue. My shoulders dipped back into the mattress as my spine flexed with pleasure. His mouth moved hungrily up the sensitive inside of my thigh; I could feel the tip of his nose and the drag of his lips. My leg tensed as he squeezed. His other hand took my breast and cupped it over the top of my lacy bra. My body was his and he knew it. My body was his and I didn’t care. He knew it as my hand lunged for his and our fingers locked. All I could feel was his tongue, his hands, the increasing pace of his breath.

The tip of his tongue danced in circles before it plunged inside, releasing waves of indulgent ecstasy down my legs and all the way to my toes. I wanted him, I needed all of him. I felt my body humming with pleasure as it built and built, my core aching to be filled as he worked me into a frenzy.

I gripped his hair and pulled him away, sitting up slightly so I could run my hands up his legs, stopping to grip him briefly, before exposing everything inside his boxers: all that was left between us. He helped me to pull them down, happy to oblige, sliding a hand under my back and pressing the other on the mattress near my head, dragging me up the bed and crawling between my legs. So ready. So hard.

With a single move, his lips were on mine as my tongue danced with his. I nipped at his lip and he pressed closer against me, sending another wave of tingling pleasure, my body pleading for him, my mind wild. I felt a ping as he undid my bra and threw it to the side, pressing his chest back against me. He looked into my eyes, catching just a single rushed breath, before diving his tongue into my mouth so deeply I could feel nothing else. I moaned desperately against his lips, and it was at that exact, perfect moment that he thrust inside of me.

He groaned deliciously into my mouth, but it didn’t feel like it came from his lips. It felt like it came from his entire body. His forehead came to rest against mine as the pleasure took hold, his fingers tightening on my breast, escalating everything as he thrust, deep and steady. I moaned, letting my body bow to him, to mould and clench around him. We were the perfect fit and the harder I felt him become, stretching inside me, the more I needed.

He increased his pace as I groaned with each stroke – with each sensation – until we both totally lost control. Until my body shook. I shouted his name, finally breaking through our perfect silence, and he pulsed in time with me, groaning as he sunk his teeth into my neck.

We lay there breathlessly, still connected: my pulse racing; his breaths deep and unsteady.

Shifting together, we lay silently beside one another. Ben reached for the duvet and covered us both, tucking me tightly against his hot skin. For the first time, I noticed the cosy, raised room we’d been in before. He must have carried me straight up the metal stairs; I had been so engrossed in him I hadn’t paid attention to anything else. The chunky furniture and taupe walls were only lit by the light of the lounge.

Still, neither of us spoke. Ben nudged his arm under my neck so we could face each other, our bodies further intertwined. His hand stroked the tussled hair from my face. His eyes shut briefly before he planted a soft kiss on my forehead, his fingers brushing my back. My heart lurched in my chest. I realised he still had his glasses on; they were wonky against his thick eyebrows. Steadily, I guided my fingers to straighten them, to frame the eyes I was so completely lost in. I kissed the smile that broke on his face, a lingering brush of my lips on his. Ben’s hand tucked my face into his neck and we slotted entirely together. Even our feet found each other as we lay there.

I didn’t realise how tired I’d been until we’d found that moment of perfect peace. When I stirred from my sudden sleep, which must have been half an hour or so later, Ben was still fast asleep. The dim light highlighted the trail of clothes on the floor and I couldn’t help but smile. I crept up and slipped on some of my short pyjamas, leaving him to rest. The metal steps were cold on my feet as I snuck down into the familiar kitchen.

As I moved through the cottage, I drank it all in all over again. The tartan armchair, the small sofa, the window to the garden, the fox draught excluder, all of it was as it had been. I noticed on the worktop there was an unwrapped pizza by the oven. I popped it in and made myself a drink of orange squash – the taste sweet and fresh on my tongue. It felt homely here, more than I would’ve thought. My shoulders lifted, a slight chill shuddering through me, so I paced across the living space to sit in the armchair whilst the oven whirred.

After I’d texted Susan and Derek, my hands rubbed some warmth into my arms. I’d reassured them; told them that Ben had been pleased to see me – which I supposed was one way of putting it.

It was funny how life worked, how many ‘what ifs’ came together to form most of our lives. What if the car hadn’t broken down? What if Sophie hadn’t fallen in the river? I stood as I heard the stairs clang, and spotted Ben stretching and walking down in his boxers, interrupting the quiet.

“Stay there,”

he said easily as he softly smiled at me, walking over.

My happiness made me almost delirious, like we were in a dream. It was almost too much, too easy. The feeling of just being content, of being safe. I was determined to savour every drop.

I tilted my head awkwardly, standing by the chair as I silently watched him draw closer. As if my words would shatter some sort of wonderful illusion. He ran a hand steadily over my waist and positioned himself behind me, looking out of the window at the peaceful darkness beyond. I could see our reflection, see us stood together, see his smile. He looked happy.

“What are you doing?”

I asked as he traced two fingers up my arm. My neck rolled at his touch.

“Reminiscing,”

he answered as his palm reached my shoulder and stopped. He planted a long, soft kiss on the back of my scar.

I blinked with realisation, watching in the glass.

“I didn’t have you down as the sentimental type,”

I joked, partially to break the tension as the emotion rose from deep inside me.

His lips kissed their way up my neck and I watched as my chest arched up in response.

“I’m not, but I remember when you showed me.”

He paused to brush my hair around to my other shoulder, the ends tickling my skin as the movement exposed more of my neck to him. “And even though I was shocked – guilty, because I’d been so dismissive – this tiny, terrible part of me got distracted by undressing you. Now, here we are.”

“Here we are,”

I said, a little breathily. I turned to him. “I put the pizza in the oven. You didn’t eat it.”

“I had other priorities.”

He grinned. “I am hungry, but I’m hungry for other things.”

We swayed closer to one another. I felt the warmth of his breath as the material of his boxers tickled my thighs.

“You should eat.”

“You should be begging me to take you back to bed.”

I swallowed as I felt my body spark. “Oh, is that so?”

He hummed, running his fingertips lazily up my thigh. I lifted myself onto my toes; our lips grew closer, but didn’t touch, as we tested each other.

“Maybe you should be the one begging me, Ben? Begging for me to let you.”

I tried very hard to keep a straight face as his fingers teased higher; as I grew more and more sensitive.

He pulled away. “We need to talk first.”

I recoiled from the sudden space. “You want to talk? Blimey.”

“I mean it,”

he said more firmly. “We… I have things I need to say, should’ve said.”

When the pizza was cooked and I’d grabbed a jumper, Ben insisted I sit down in the armchair, covering my legs with a blanket. I’d already eaten, and certainly wasn’t thinking anything sensible, so I enjoyed a mug of tea as we relaxed and caught up on everything. The police had held Ben to get a statement, needing him to be calm, and not wanting us to corroborate. I mean, that wasn’t exactly how he worded it, but it was the gist. Ben had needed a couple of stitches on his arm from climbing through the window to reach me.

He climbed through the window.

I’d wanted to ask more, but my throat choked at the thought. At the thought of what he’d done.

“I knew you were coming on Saturday,”

he admitted.

My body tensed at the change of tone. I watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

“I wanted, needed, to talk to you. About before. But I don’t know, seeing you again, just you and me… You do something to my brain, I swear. It’s like I can’t think.”

I smiled at him instantly; the last few days has cracked me open and I was done hiding my feelings, fighting my body. “You knew I was coming?”

“Of course. I’d been running over in my head what I was going to say. That wet t-shirt did not help me focus, that’s why you have to stay over there.”

He gestured to the armchair, to the blanket covering my bare legs. “So I can get all of this out.”

Of course, he’d known I was going to be there. Of course, he’d wanted to talk. Something in my chest fluttered as my eyes widened with anticipation.

He continued, taking a deep breath. “When you started saying that you wanted to leave, I panicked. I realised that you wouldn’t be just mine. That you’d want to go out in the world, and I got, well, jealous. When you came to me, I should’ve understood, but instead, I put my own feelings first and got offended. I should’ve given you space. You were right.”

“It’s okay,”

I soothed, needing to reassure him, clutching the corner of the blanket.

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have said what I said about the show. For what’s it’s worth, you really held your own, especially with the questions about Sam, but the rest was just hard for me to watch. I knew I’d hurt you, and when I came home and you were gone, I knew I should’ve fixed it, but by then I thought it was too late. Then Saturday night was a mess, and then the fire…”

“I’m sorry too,”

I said, leaning towards him, my heart pounding. His words were singing to me, telling me everything I’d been trying so hard to convince myself I could live without. “I knew I was hurting you, but the more I tried to explain, the worse I made it. If I’d known you were going to be upset by the way I acted on the show, I would’ve done things differently, it was just the heat of the moment. “

He frowned. “You have absolutely nothing to apologise for, as usual. You did nothing wrong.”

“I can’t believe you went into the fire, Ben. What that meant to you…”

His eyes were wide and intense as he replied, his voice breaking. “It was about what you mean to me, Ivy. I didn’t even think, not about anything, except you. God, it petrifies me that you went back in for Sam. After everything. You’re worth so much to so many people… I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been too late. When I found you, for a few seconds, it was like you were dead. I… I felt like I might die as well.”

His words were raw and powerful and filled me with choking emotion.

“What happened, Ben?”

He sighed, and began to fill in the gaps.