Page 27 of Wish You Were Here

Ben

I’m in bed with Jemma, and we have just woken up together again.

This is the third straight day she has stayed over at my flat, and it is beginning to feel like something serious already.

I think because of the two years we invested at university, as soon as we begin spending time together again, delicately balancing on the early beams of a new relationship, we are already so much further along the dating line than we would otherwise be.

What’s the dating line? Every relationship starts out at the beginning of the dating line.

Think of the dating line as a normal timeline, and at the beginning is moment zero – the second you begin dating.

It could be a first date or the moment you stare into each other’s eyes and realise, hang on a minute, there is something going on here – that’s the beginning of the dating line.

From then on, it’s just a matter of moving along the line with things like meeting friends, meeting parents, going on your first holiday together, leaving items at each other’s flats, going to IKEA together and a hundred other little things until eventually you either break-up or you decide to go the whole hog and get engaged.

The thing is, with anyone else, I would be starting at moment zero, but with Jemma, we’re already somewhere in the middle.

We’re in bed talking, she has her head resting on my chest, and outside it’s dark and cold. The world is slowly waking up.

‘I was thinking,’ says Jemma from below me.

‘Sounds ominous, like the time Simon said he had an idea.’

‘What was the idea?’

‘That we would save hundreds of pounds a year if we started brewing our own beer.’

‘What happened?’

‘We spent a fortune setting up a small brewery in our flat, creating our own signature brew, Bimon’s Beer—’

‘Ben and Simon’s beer, Bimon’s Beer?’

‘Correct. We spent time researching how to make different types of beer, we bought a kit, the best ingredients from Europe, and spent two months making our first pint.’

‘And?’

‘It tasted like piss. We threw most of it away. Although Simon still has four hundred Bimon’s Beer labels he had printed off, a dozen t-shirts and a couple of tote bags. I don’t know why he got so invested in the merch when it was just us.’

‘Okay, well my thought wasn’t quite so much about alcohol, than it was about you meeting my parents again,’ says Jemma.

She sits up, looking at me, but it’s hard to fully focus on her face because she’s not wearing a bra, and so her breasts are right there, and Jemma has incredible breasts.

My eyes are drawn to them, and I have to force myself to stop it and focus.

‘I know we’ve only been back together for a short time, Benji, but I told my parents about us and they’re excited to see you again. ’

Bear in mind we have only been dating for a few weeks, but again, we are already further along the dating line than we normally would be at this point. I understand her question, but also, it still feels quite soon to be sitting down for a cosy dinner with her mum and dad.

‘But I’ve already met your parents, Jem.

Many times. We shared a Christmas together one year, remember?

Your dad tried the Nigella turkey recipe, and we all agreed it was the best any of us had ever had.

Your mum bought me socks, your brother got me drunk on a bottle of Tequila and your gran kept calling me Ian. ’

‘I know you’ve already met my parents, but that was eight years ago, Benji.

I want you to meet them again,’ says Jemma, and it’s still hard to fully focus because she’s topless, but I also realise this is something of a turning point in our fledgling relationship.

It has only been a few weeks, but it’s moving quickly.

Lightning fast, now that I think about it, and she wants me to meet her parents again, which is understandable, but I still haven’t told her about Saskia.

There have been moments over the last few weeks when I should have mentioned Saskia, but for whatever reason, I just didn’t.

I think about saying it, but when it comes to opening my mouth and saying the actual words, nothing happens.

Instead, I just offer her a cup of tea. She must think I drink an awful lot of tea.

I’m not sure why I can’t tell her about Saskia, but obviously it isn’t good.

I have come up with a few theories on the subject.

Theory number one: The guilty theory. I feel guilty about my feelings towards Saskia because, clearly, I feel something towards her that’s more than just friendship.

Theory number two: The jealousy theory. Jemma won’t understand my relationship with Saskia, will be jealous and will ask me to stop FaceTiming with her.

I would fully understand this point of view, but the thought of not speaking with Saskia doesn’t bear thinking about.

Theory number three: The not quite the truth theory.

I will tell her about Saskia, but I will leave out key information like our ongoing sexual attraction and the fact that I think about her all the time.

Telling her I have an online friend in Australia I occasionally speak to is one thing but telling her the whole truth is something else.

I look at Jemma, and I want to fully invest in our relationship.

I really like her and could potentially see us together in the long-term.

If I were at work and presenting two different properties to a client, and Saskia and Jemma represented the options, I would one hundred per cent be telling them to go all in on Jemma.

She is the sensible choice, the more reliable option with a guaranteed long-term return on investment.

Jemma is offering me everything I have ever wanted.

She is a fully renovated investment property in a prime location, and I would be a bloody fool not to snap her up.

Saskia is a gamble property, which could pay off big time and change my life, but it could easily all go wrong, and I could lose everything.

As an asset manager, there is no way I would instruct a client to even consider Saskia when Jemma is ready and waiting to go. Always play the odds.

‘I’d love to meet your parents again,’ I say, and Jemma looks at me, smiles and then she moves herself on top of me. I’m lying on my back, and she is sitting astride me in just a pair of knickers. Clearly, something is afoot.

‘Fantastic! I’ll let them know, and we can get something in the calendar.

In the meantime, Mr Armstrong, what are we going to do about this?

’ says Jemma, reaching a hand down and feeling the bulge that has suddenly sprung up in my underwear.

I reach a hand up and feel her breasts, then she leans down and kisses me, and now definitely isn’t the time to mention Saskia.

As it turned out, Abigail stayed over with Simon last night, so when Jemma and I leave my bedroom, Abigail and Simon are already eating breakfast in front of the television.

Things in the flat have changed over the last month.

It wasn’t that long ago that Simon and I were both firmly established singletons.

Mornings were us, drinking coffee, nibbling on toast, on the sofa watching TV, lamenting the fact we were destined never to have sex again.

Simon would go off and make videos, I would head into the office, then we would reconvene in the evenings, drink beer, eat dinner, on the sofa, watching TV, lamenting the fact we were destined never to have sex again.

This was our life for so long, but suddenly we both have girlfriends.

‘This is nice,’ says Simon, as Jemma and I join him and Abigail on the sofa with cups of coffee. ‘The four of us. Oh, I know, we should go on a double date!’

‘Why?’ I reply. ‘We can hang out here whenever we want.’

‘Because it’s nice,’ says Abigail.

‘I agree,’ says Jemma. ‘Maybe dinner? I know a great little Indian in Brixton.’

‘Sounds perfect!’ says Abigail, and then before I know it, I am going on a double date with Simon, Abigail and Jemma.

We are a foursome. A couple of couples. After about thirty minutes, Abigail leaves because she needs to go back to her own flat because it has been days and her plants need watering, and Jemma wanders off to take a shower.

‘How’s it going?’ says Simon. ‘With you and Jemma?’

‘It’s going well, I think.’

‘You think? You don’t sound so sure, mate.’

‘No, I am. Jemma is brilliant. It’s just … I haven’t told her about Saskia yet.’

‘Oh, right. Why?’

‘I don’t know. That’s the thing. It isn’t even that big of a deal, right?’

‘Right.’

‘But for some reason, every time I try to tell her about it, I don’t, and now it’s become this secret I’m keeping from her, and the longer I go without telling her, the weirder it becomes.’

‘That’s quite the pickle you’ve got yourself into there, mate. Can I offer you some friendly flatmate advice?’ I nod. ‘Just tell her. Jemma is great, you’ve only just got together, and like you said, it’s not even that big of a deal. I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.’

‘You’re right. Thanks, mate.’

‘No problem. Oh, before I forget, I’m having a viewing party at the flat for the release of my next video.’

‘A viewing party?’

‘It’s the first in a new series, so I thought it would be fun to have a little party to celebrate.’

‘We’ll be there. I have been meaning to ask about you and Abs. How’s it going?’

I look at Simon, and he smiles at me.

‘It’s great, really great.’

‘Is it …?’

‘Is it what, Ben?’

‘You know, the Big L?’ I ask, and I’m not sure what I’m expecting because I’m sort of half-joking, half-serious, but Simon takes a moment before he looks at me and says with a completely straight face, so I know he isn’t messing about.

‘You know, I think it might be.’

‘Wow.’

‘I know,’ says Simon, before he stands up. ‘Right, I have to go.’

‘Where?’

‘Yoga.’

‘You do yoga? I didn’t know you did yoga.’

‘There’s a lot about me you don’t know,’ says Simon with a mischievous smile.

‘Like?’ I say before he leaves the room. He stops, looks at me and then says.

‘When I was sixteen, I had my own radio show.’

‘What?’

‘Flash Radio 97.3! I had an after school show from four to six. I played all the hits, and once I interviewed Natalie Cassidy.’

‘Sonia from Eastenders ?’

‘The very same.’

‘What happened? Why did you stop doing radio?’

‘The usual, Ben. Creative differences, a lengthy contractual dispute,’ says Simon. ‘Right, I’m off. I don’t want to be late for yoga. For a relaxing, meditative practice, they are surprisingly militant about punctuality.’

Simon leaves, and then I hear the shower being turned off.

I know Simon is right. I just need to tell Jemma about Saskia.

The only thing he doesn’t know, and the thing I didn’t tell him, is that it is a big deal.

Saskia means a lot to me, and I don’t know how to explain that to Jemma without it being weird.

I suppose I just have to do it because he is right about something, Jemma is great and she will probably be fine with it as long as I am honest, but the longer I leave it, the more reason she’ll have to be suspicious.