The Art of Keeping Faith (45 page)

14th May

Ben:
Nothing

There is no food in my kitchen. The whole street may know it. Well they would if they could hear my slamming of the kitchen doors and drawers above the God-awful noise Bodge-it upstairs is making.

It is not a drill today. Oh no, the noise today makes the drill of last week sound like fairies giggling on Ecstasy.

I want to go up there and shout, but I am too hungry.

Too hungry to do anything apart from bang cupboard doors.

Five minutes later

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Making breakfast.”

“That’s spaghetti?”

“No shit, fuck face.”

“Do you want me to make you toast?”

“Aaaaaagh! Do I look like toast is going to satisfy me? No, toast is shit and I don’t want it.”

Tristan eyes me from the kitchen doorway.

“What do you want?” he asks me with a certain level of caution. I can hardly blame him.

Erratic no longer covers my behaviour. Last night I ranted for about forty-five minutes about Richard being a two-faced wanker and then ate an entire family bar of Cadbury’s, which I then threw up.

“What I want, Tristan-Know-it-all-Arsehole-McCannon, is a fucking bacon sandwich.”

Then I start to cry.

Meredith tiptoes in and Tristan turns to her in exasperation.

“How long does this bit last for?”

She thinks for a moment. “Another six months?”

“Shit.”

“Shit,” she agrees.

“I am here you know. I am actually in the room with you. I can shitting hear you!”

I start to hack at the butter with a carving knife in preparation to melt it on my breakfast spaghetti.

“Put the knife down, Lilah.” Tristan edges toward me.

“What, am I scaring you?” I ask while brandishing the kitchen weapon.

“No, put the knife down and I will take you out for breakfast.”

I glare at them both some more.

“I can’t, I have to go to class.”

“It’s seven in the morning.”

“Oh.”

“Put the knife down, Lilah. We will go for breakfast and then I will drop you both at campus,” Tristan coaxes me using a tone I have never heard from him before.

It reminds me of something.

“How will we get home later? I can’t walk that far, it will kill me.” My lips start to wobble again.

“I’ll come and get you! Come on Lil, let’s go and get some crispy bacon.”

Then I realise what his voice reminds me of; Ben and his don’t scare the kitten (or Lilah) voice.

And then I start to cry some more.

Me:
Will you come home and teach me to make a bacon buttie? Just once and then I will never ask for anything again.

16th May

Ben:
Nothing

7.00 a.m.

“Are you coming onto campus today to watch that movie?” Meredith pokes her head around my door to ask.

“Nope.”

“Are you going to do anything today?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay, then.”

“Are you still okay to come and look at my dress with me on Sunday?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then. Uh, Tristan and I might be out this evening.”

“That’s nice.”

“Okay then. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Cue me pulling the duvet up.

I don’t want to see anyone. Ever.

Half an hour later

“Hey guys, how are you both on this glorious sunny morning? Who fancies a coffee?”

Tristan and Meredith are both in the kitchen staring at me.

“Thought you were not doing anything today?” Tristan says around a slice of toast.

Mm, toast. Yummy.

“Who said that?” I grab the toast out of his hand and shove it in my mouth all in one go.

“Uh, you did about half an hour ago,” Meredith says.

“Duh, no. I have gotta go to campus to watch that movie. Hey Meredith, do you want to drive Deathtrap there?”

Meredith glances at Tristan. “Uh, yeah sure. That would be great.”

“Excellent, I will just have some more toast and then we can set off early, what you guys up to tonight? Do you fancy going out for Tapas? I am really bloody hungry.”

Meredith gives a nervous giggle.

“That sounds nice,” she tells me as Tristan glares at her. “Hey, Lilah, will you come to that dress fitting with me on Sunday?”

“Ooh yeah that sounds great. Who else is coming?”

“Just Beth and Jayne,” she confirms.

“Oh that sounds fun, a lovely girl’s day out. Ooh, maybe we should see what they are doing tonight and make a night of it.”

“Ooh, yeah. Let’s,” sarcs Tristan.

“Cool, go and get ready then and I will make some brekkie.” I wave my hands at Meredith to shoo her out of the kitchen.

“Um, Lil?” she calls.

“Yep.”

“Can I have that in writing?”

“What?”

“All of it?”

“Very funny. Now bugger off. We need to get going. I need to get some books out from the library.” I turn back to my task at hand singing along to the radio as I do so.

“Okaaay.”

I can hear them muttering under my singing as they walk away, something about crazy scary but I have no idea what they are talking about.

“Oooh, I love this tune, let’s turn it up and dance,” I call after them, but they are nowhere to be seen.

7.00 p.m.

“I am not coming out.”

I am lying face down on my bed and am bright red from where I have been crying for half an hour.

“That’s a tenner you owe me,” Tristan tells Meredith before walking back off down the hallway.

Smug bugger.

“Why not, Lil? Come on, you have been excited about it all day.”

“I. Am. Not. Going. Out.” I bang my fists into the mattress.

“What on earth is the matter?”

I turn to face her and I can see her holding in a laugh.

“Nothing fits.”

“What? Of course everything fits, you’re skinny.”

“Nope. Nothing fits. It all feels uncomfortable, everything; my bra’s, my jeans, and even my T-shirts are too small.”

“Well I don’t know why, you have not put any weight on yet.”

“Well how do you explain this then?” I stand up and show her my jeans. They are done up but they feel all wrong.

I do a few squats to prove my point.

“It’s not funny.” I glare at her when I see her struggling not to laugh again.

“No, it’s not. Lilah, you look great. Best you have looked in ages.”

That’s not that hard. I’ve looked dog rough for weeks.

“Hmph.”

“Why don’t you wear a dress? Then you will not feel all tight around the middle.”

“I thought you said they don’t look tight.”

“Oh, my God, they don’t. But obviously they feel it. Let’s go to my room and you can borrow one of my dresses.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Now come on. Go and splash your face and then you can come and take your pick.”

I leap from the bed and smother her in a bear hug.

“Thank you, thank you. You are the bestest bestie ever.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now come on, I have not eaten all day waiting for this Tapas.”

“Really? You haven’t eaten all day?”

“No, what did you have?”

“Two bacon and avocado baguette’s from the café, and three packets of crisps.” It may have been four, but that sounds a bit excessive.

“Oh.” She says this in a voice that says that fact explains everything.

Me:
If you were here you could help me do my jeans up. Or I could wear your sweat pants and T-shirts. Nothing smells of you anymore. I miss it.

17th May

Ben:
Nothing

According to my friends I look amazing; my hair is shiny, my skin is clear and they all want to know what push up bra I have purchased.

I may be glowing at the moment, but I don’t think it is glowing as such, but more a case of serious Meat Sweats.

Work is mental and very noisy, so I have been down to McDonalds to get a snack. Five cheeseburgers. I was going to share but I ended up eating them all myself and then going back to get something else for Baz. I only got myself a medium fries on my second visit. Oh okay, they were large.

This is a little bit of a concern. After weeks of not eating, my appetite is back with a vengeance. And apparently the baby likes greasy meat produce.

This is fine apart from the fact I am supposed to be hiding the bump until the end of June and the way things are going I may well be the size of a house by then.

According to Google—my main source of pregnancy information—I am now fifteen weeks pregnant. It seems that you have to cart about a baby for forty weeks, which means I have a long, long way to go.

This is good and bad. Good because it gives me longer to track down Ben and tell him before I just bump into him one day while pushing a stroller around.

Bad because I am simply going to be enormous.

Me:
I keep waiting for the sound of your key sliding home in the front door. Do you still have your keys, or have you thrown them away?

18th May

Ben:
Nothing

Baz is the best boss ever.

As I was preparing to slouch out the shop yesterday and try to walk off my mammoth lunch he called me back.

“Hey, Lilah. I have a gift for you.”

“Is it Slim Fast? Because if it is, it’s not going to work.”

Baz was shocked by my eating capacity at lunchtime.

No,” he laughed. “Although if you are planning to win Ben back I would probably suggest not putting on three stone in cheeseburgers before you do so.”

“Whatever. Anyway, what do you want? I have got exercise to do.”

“I managed to get this for you, I thought it may help with the getting Ben back plan seen as you are hell bent on not just calling the poor guy.”

Ah, the phone call. How easy would that be? No I must remember just what it is that I need to tell him.

No phone calls, not now. It is too late for a simple phone call.

Baz handed me an envelope which I had a little peak in before setting off around the shop screaming the place down. The drums rattled as I stomped past them like Godzilla.

Inside the envelope were not one, but two tickets to the Isle of Wight festival.

There are no tickets to be found, believe me I have tried.

My Isle of Wight plan was consisting of crossing the water to the island and then attempting to get over or under a fence and dodge security.

I flew over to Baz and strangled him in one of my death grip hugs.

“Baz, you are the best. How on earth did you get these?”

“Well, I still know a few people here and there.”

“Oh, my God. I love you.”

“Okay, take it easy, girl. Just make sure that if and when you get to speak to him you say the right words.”

I hugged Baz again as tight as I could and then started to cry. Again.

I then ran all the way home to tell Meredith and Tristan that they would not need to worry about bailing me out of jail.

Three weeks and then I will be face-to-face with Ben and able to tell him the truth.

Me:
Can you tell security not to arrest me when I clamber on stage? I need to tell you something. Baz is right. I need to find the right words.

19th May

Ben:
Nothing

Or I won’t.

When I get to campus Beth and Jayne are standing on the lawn waiting for me with a newspaper in their hand.

Headline, front page. Sound Box cancel all summer gigs.

What the bloody hell am I supposed to do now?

The article said nothing of any use to me at all apart from confirming that the rumoured problems in the band were continuing and that as a result all live gigs for the foreseeable future had been postponed. Money would be returned.

What rumours? I have been stalking the Internet at least an hour, sometimes a lot more, a day and there has not been one whiff of a rumour at all.

If there had been, Dirty Bitches R’Us would have told me.

Later

Well they know now.

Uproar, I tell you.

I am just reading through five pages of comments—all of which involve a lot of swear words.

Bloody crap balls. I just don’t know how much worse things can get.

Me:
Can it get worse?

21st May

Ben:
Nothing

2.00 a.m.

Worse. Worse. So much sodding worse.

This time it has nothing to do with Ben. But that is the only good bit of news.

Beth is here, completely hysterical.

She woke us up by hammering the front door down about half an hour ago. It has taken us until now to calm her down.

She is drunk. Actually drunk does not quite cover it; she is Lilah drunk. Well old Lilah drunk.

“Beth, what on earth is going on?” I ask as I rub her back. She has just thrown up in a quite spectacular style; thankfully she made it to the bathroom. Just.