The Art of Letting Go (The Uni Files) (33 page)

20th March

Period watch: Nothing.

Ben leaves in three days.

Yesterday’s little drama is still playing in my mind on a constant loop. It’s all I can think about and every time I do I find it hard to breathe. My heart feels heavy just thinking about it. Ben actually wants to have a baby with me. I can’t get my head around this. Even
I
am not sure I want to have a baby with me.

I feel like I’m too young, but then I remember that I am twenty-six and that’s not really that young anymore. Just because I act like a teenager does not mean that I am one.

I wonder what a baby with Ben would be like? Would it have black hair and blue eyes? Or, would it be dumpy and frumpy like me?

21st March

Period Watch: Nothing.

Ben leaves in two days.

We have sex a lot. I’m starting to think about my friend vodka again.

I may have to conduct a panic buy at the supermarket. Instead of purchasing ‘end of the world’ supplies such as tinned beans and Spam I will buy a ‘Ben’s gone’ survival pack. Three litres of vodka, two bottle of gin, five bags of ice, some breadsticks, a jar of pickle and two boxes of Cheerios. I reckon that will see me through two weeks.

I am only joking. Obviously!

Okay, I am only joking a little bit.

22nd March

Period watch—Nothing.

I have just realised something: Taylor Swift has been very quiet of late. I can only hope that she does not come back out again tomorrow when he leaves. I am hoping that the lack of my own personal soundtrack might mean I have grown up at last.

23rd March

8.30 a.m.

And he is gone.

9.00 a.m.

Is it too early for a Bloody Mary, or just a Bloody?

9:12 a.m.

No Taylor. I think this means that I have grown as a person in the last few weeks. I shall go back to sleep enjoying the silence in my head.

10.00 a.m.

I can’t sleep. It’s impossible.

Now that Ben has finally gone, I can indulge in a complete freak out about the whole period thing.

Aaagh!

There we go. I have been waiting to say that for days.

Wait, there is more.

What the fuuuuuuuck?

Much better.

Now I can go into Boots, holding my head up high, and buy a flipping pregnancy test. I can’t believe I am in this situation just two months after Meredith was. I feel terrible about it. There are just too many variables that are not quite right.

My best friend lost her baby that she was actually pleased about only two months ago.

I have only been with my boyfriend for a couple of weeks officially.

That boyfriend has said that he actually wants the baby that may or may not be.

I know that if the phantom baby actually exists, then it is going to screw everything up for both of us.

How can I tell my best friend any of this when her own wounds are still too raw? I wish I could talk to her about it but I can’t put her through that, it would just be wrong.

11.30 a.m.

Okay, now I just have to pee on this stick.

12.00 p.m.

It’s quite hard to pee on a stick. It all has to do with aim and the angle of the dangle.

Three minutes and I will know.

12:03 p.m.

Or I won’t, because it doesn’t give me a clear answer. I have read the instructions five times, including all of the small print. If the test has worked then there will be a pink dot in the small window. If it is positive, then there will be a pink line in the bigger window. If it is not, then the bigger window will be blank.

Thing is, there is a dot in the small window, which makes me think the test is working and there is a line in the big window, but it is not that pink. What the hell does that mean?

I need help! I was foolish to think I could do this by myself. I need my friends.

1.30 p.m.

Meredith looked at me like I was barmy as I explained what I needed help with after I knocked on her door and interrupted her viewing of crap daytime telly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks.

“Because I didn’t want to make you sad,” is my limited reply before the wave of emotion I have been bottling for days crashes over me. I stand in her room with my bottom lip wobbling and she jumps up and grabs me in a tight hug. “You really are a complete dick sometimes,” she tells me as she squeezes the life out of me.

That was an hour ago.

We grabbed Beth and Jayne and then retreated to my room where we then read the fine print on a pregnancy test instruction leaflet like we were going to sit on an exam on it. An exam we would clearly all fail. We are none the wiser and it still does not give an answer either way.

“He is going to be really cross that you waited for him to be at Heathrow before doing this,” says Miss State the Obvious Meredith.

“Yes, I know, but it is just as well I did. Imagine if he had gone off, not knowing either way.”

“Lilah, he has gone off, not knowing either way.”

“Oh yeah.” I think about this. “Oh well, he’s gone now. All I have to do now is obsess about him being stalked by girls in black lacy underwear for two weeks.”

“No, you don’t. You know he will not be that stupid again.”

“Hmm.”

“Shall we go and get drunk somewhere?” suggests Beth.

We all sit there and think about it for a millisecond.

“Hell yeah,” we all shout and jump up.

But deep in my heart I know I can’t drink. Not until I know for sure. Visions of my baby with a vodka-filled bottle fill my mind.

“Um, Lil, what are you going to do about the test?” Jayne asks.

“Do you know what, Jaynio? I am just going to forget all about it.”

11.00 p.m.

And I have done for the rest of the day, helped along by my three very drunk friends and crazy dancing at Digby and a late-night pizza.

It’s all okay. He is gone, but I am still functioning. This is going to sound completely backwards but I think that being together the way we have the last couple of weeks has made this easier. This makes me hopeful that when it comes to the big parting in a few months it will all be okay. Yep, it is all going to be okay.

11:55 p.m.

Text from Ben.

Ben: I am here. Miss you. Try not to get too pissed. XXX

Me: Miss you too. Make good music
.

24th March

Oh dear! Taylor was back this morning when I woke up, singing a nice upbeat tune in my head
:
“Sparks Fly.”

I have to go see Big Baz today and put in a few hours at the shop. It's my first day of work, and all I want to do is lie in bed and hide under my duvet.

Ah, a text. Yipee.

Ben: Get out from under your duvet and go to work.

Me: It smells of you though ;-)

Ben: Jeez! Try to wash it before I get back!

Me: I did not agree to do housework whilst you are off gallivanting.

Ben: Go to work, Lilah. Love you.

25th March

Taylor Swift is singing “Breathless.
”

I dream of Ben being chased by girls in black underwear. They are all tall, blond, and skinny, and he is fending them all off with his guitar. A guitar is not a great self-defence weapon in the face of an onslaught of screaming near-naked beauties.

Yesterday I sold a recorder. It was not a great start to my new career.

26th March

7.30 a.m.

Today I get to open the shop. I have my own keys and everything. How big and important am I? Exciting stuff.

1.30 p.m.

Or not. It's lunchtime and all I have sold is some sheet music to an eleven-year-old. I have also polished every guitar in the place, lovingly paying extra attention to the only remaining Gibson. It must be missing its friend. I know I am. The other Gibson is in the States and obviously a little busy today. I try not to think about it.

10.00 p.m.

No texts or calls from Ben today. I’m not overly surprised. I knew he was going to busy. I’m just going to be a big brave girl and get on with it. Top marks for positive attitude.

27th March

No Ben again. I am sure there is a reason.
A very good one.

29th March

7.30 a.m.

It's Good Friday. I’m not sure what is good about it. I still have not heard from Ben. There is no work today, so there's nothing to distract me from my obsessed worrying. It’s only been six days and I am finding that this is really, really hard.

I have realised how futile it is, trying to convince myself that it will be easy in June when he leaves. I have been what? Three or four days out of contact and I am falling to pieces. It is not going to be easy at all.

I can think of no positive thoughts whatsoever right now, apart from the fact I have Coco-Pops for breakfast and not Cheerios. I'm going to get out of bed in a minute and perform the obligatory period check. If there is still nothing there, I will have to use the spare test I picked up from the nice grey-haired lady in Boots yesterday. Hopefully it will tell me something slightly more useful than a mixed result.

Oooh, there is some good news on this depressing Good Friday! Everything is going through at the house, and we should complete and exchange in six weeks. I have absolutely no clue what that means but it sounds like very good news.

9.30 a.m.

There is more good news. My period has finally started! That is the best news I have ever heard. I did the spare test. It came back resoundingly negative. Just one big pink dot, and nothing else. I’ll have to go and tell someone. Meredith is here, I believe.

9:35 a.m.

“Why are you crying?”

“My period started.”

“I thought that is what you wanted.”

“It is.”

Cue snot bubbles.

“Have you told Ben?”

“Not yet.”

“Don’t you think you should?”

“Yes.”

More snot bubbles.

9.40 a.m.

I am under the duvet.

What the hell is going on? Why on earth am crying? It’s just, if I had to be honest with myself, I think deep down I may have really wanted it. That I might have a little bit of him and when he leaves in June, I would have had a bit of him still, something amazing and perfect. I keep thinking of his words under that tree months ago when he wanted us to “Create something perfect just by chance.”

It would have been. It would have been Ben’s and it would have been perfect. Perfect with blue eyes.

Now I will have nothing. Nothing at all.

The snot is out of control. For the first time in a very long time I want my mum. Can I though? Really? That woman and I have not had a good relationship in years, but right now I just want my mum.

Sod it.

“Mum.”

“Lilah! What on earth has happened?”

“Can you come and get me please?”

“Forty minutes. Pack a bag.”

Just like that.

Text to Ben.

Me: Hey, hope you're having a good time. Just thought I would let you know my period started, so you don’t have to worry about the whole baby thing. Lilah. X

12.30 p.m.

Nothing back.

Nothing at all.

I grab a bag and waste time shoving some stuff into it. Then I wait outside for my mum. As I walk through the door, Meredith leans out of her window.

“Where are you going?”

“My mum’s.”

“What?”

“See you tomorrow or the day after, Mer.”

I blow her a kiss and head to the main gate.

I have left my phone in my room. Right now I do not think I want to be contacted by anyone.

30th March

I love my mum, and I love the fact that she drinks gin from midday.

Yesterday she picked me up in Dad’s Mercedes. I blubbed all over the leather. She didn’t ask me what was wrong or anything, just headed back to the A3 and our family home in Guildford.

“Is Dad going to be home?” I ask eventually.

Silence and I truly do not get on.

“Yes, he knows you are coming,” she says, turning toward me. “I think he is looking forward to seeing you, Delilah.”

“Really? Dad is pleased to see me?”

“We have missed you, him especially. He used to see you every day at work and now you never call. Well, not unless you are shouting about something.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

And I am.

“It’s okay. He just wants the best for you. It is hard for him to see you being a grown-up. He hasn’t handled it well at all.”

Mum may have just made the understatement of the year.

“Oh, Mum! I have not been very grown-up at all.”

And then I start to blub all over again.

When we get home, I head up to my old room and collapse onto my old four-poster. Mum wakes me up an hour later, the way only my mum can, with a gin and tonic in hand.

Then I tell her everything. I tell her all about Ben, and the underwear and the way we tried to stay away from each other but couldn’t. I tell her all about my health kick and the weight-loss. I tell her about Ben always supporting me and looking after me, even when I have been horrible. Then I tell her about the deal we have for the remaining three months and about the pregnancy scare and the way I feel today, which is even though there never was a baby, I really miss it now that it is not there.