Page 74 of Playing the Field
‘Something I need to work through on my own. But thank you, I appreciate it.’
‘Well I’m here if you need me, but you’ve got to knock it on the head if you’re serious about playing for Crawford.’
‘Honestly, I can stop,’ he assures me. ‘It’s just temporary.’
‘Then I’m willing to pretend I didn’t see it on this occasion.’
We agree that when we go back inside, we’ll both forget this conversation.
I end up staying until closing time, to keep myself from moping about Ben, so I’m somewhat the worst for wear when I eventually stumble into my bedroom just after midnight. It’s only then that I start feeling bad for not even texting him back. He must be wondering what’s going on.
He’s usually in bed by now, but I decide to chance a call anyway. When he answers I can tell from the bewilderment in his voice that he wasn’t awake.
‘Hey, babe, everything okay? You get my message?’
‘I’m drunk,’ I confess. ‘I drank alot. I really missed you this evening.’
‘I missed you too. Did you have a good night at The Fox?’
‘I did. But now I’m... I’m quite drunk. My head’s in a spin.’
‘You probably need some sleep,’ he says drowsily. ‘It’s late.’
‘I know. I just didn’t want you to think...’
‘Why don’t we talk in the morning?’ he suggests. ‘When we’re both more with it.’
Because I want to talk now,I think, even if tomorrow’s more sensible. But what I actually say is, ‘Sure. I’m sorry I woke you.’
‘Night, babe, love you,’ he says quietly, ending the call before I have a chance to say it back.
My heart sinks as I stare at my phone in my hand. I know it’s the middle of the night, but I thought he might sound happier to hear from me. Instead, after not seeing each other for ten days, and now with another whole week to wait, it feels like we’re starting to drift apart.
41
After a restless night, I wake up cranky. I should be enjoying a leisurely breakfast with Ben on his terrace then heading out somewhere fun together, not nursing the worst hangover I’ve had in as long as I can remember.
Ben, on the other hand, seems bright as a button when he calls me before I’ve even emerged from under my duvet. ‘Hey, Lils, how’s the head this morning? I’m sorry I couldn’t talk last night. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. It sounded like you had quite the session though.’
‘I’d be on the painkillers if I could only reach them,’ I confess. So far even the walk to the bathroom cabinet feels like a NASA space mission. ‘I don’t think I’m going to be doing very much today.’
‘We all need a duvet day from time to time,’ he says. ‘I’d be in there with you if I had my way.’ Which would usually bring a smile to my face, thinking about us cuddled up together, but today only reminds me that he’s hundreds of miles away.
‘What did you do with your evening?’ I ask, then instantly wish I hadn’t when he tells me he ‘ended up seeing Georgie’.
He doesn’t elaborate, as per our agreement, but it sends my mind into overdrive. What does he mean by ‘end up’? Did she suggest it? Did he? And are they already so familiar with each other that he’s started calling herGeorgie?
‘I know it’s not what we said, but I think I might need you to tell me about it.’
‘There isn’t much to tell.’ I imagine him shrugging. ‘We had a drink at a place called the Alchemist. She had a couple of cocktails; I stuck to the alcohol-free beer.’
‘Was it fun?’
‘She’s easy company– funny. I think you’d like her.’
I doubt that very much. I brace myself for my next question. ‘And after the Alchemist?’
‘I dropped her home. I had the car.’ He’s in it now. I can tell from the slight echo. ‘I’ve told her I want to take things slowly after being burned in past relationships.’
