Page 12 of Close to You
‘Where do you want it?’ Ben adds.
I hold open my front door. ‘In the living room,’ I reply.
He lifts the box, then lowers it. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I figured David can move things around when it’s all inside.’
Ben bites his lip and it’s only then that I realise I’ve misunderstood what he was asking. He wasn’t questioning if I was sure about where to put the box…
Either way, the moment is lost and he crouch-walks inside as a grinning Jane watches on.
‘He kept claiming it was awkward, rather than heavy,’ she says.
‘Where’s David?’ I ask.
Jane turns towards the parking spaces on the road and then ends up looking back to me: ‘Isn’t he here? I figured he was inside. He left before us.’
I check my phone, but there are no missed calls or messages. ‘I’ve not heard from him,’ I say.
We stare at one another blankly for a moment. The journey from David’s place in Kingbridge is only a 20-mile drive to mine in Gradingham. It’s one road and almost impossible to get lost, even if he didn’t know where he was going.
‘Perhaps he had to stop for petrol…?’ I say.
Jane stares at me for a second too long, but then seemingly catches herself and turns away as Ben re-emerges empty-handed from my flat. The three of us head to the back of the van and take out more of David’s belongings. Ben hoists down another box that he insists isn’t heavy, while Jane picks up a rucksack that’s locked with a small padlock. I grab a duffel bag that is soft and probably filled with clothes.
We carry everything into my flat and put it down on the floor of the living room, next to the first box.
Ben straightens himself and massages his neck: ‘I need a smoke,’ he says. He takes a step towards the door and then adds: ‘Maybe David will be here by the time I’m done.’
There’s an obvious punch of annoyance and, though I don’t necessarily blame him, it’s very out of character.
With Ben outside, Jane and I are left perching on a pair of stools next to the kitchen counter. She makes a point of turning around to take in the space, asking where David’s things are going to go without actually doing it.
‘I didn’t know Ben was smoking again,’ I say.
‘He’s not… not really. He only has the odd one when he’s had a stressful day or week.’
I think about pushing it, asking what’s led to this particular slip, but I’m not sure I’d get an answer. It’s never a good idea with Jane to even imply that everything with her and Ben isn’t pure paradise.
Jane takes the impasse to glance around once more. We’ve known one another since we sat side by side in primary school. We’ve had numerous silly teenage arguments but always made up quickly. We’ve shared clothes and gossip; we obsessed about boys and bands. We’ve grown up together. It’s like I can read her mind and I’m certain it’s the same for her. We don’t always need words.
‘I know what I’m doing,’ I say.
Jane doesn’t bother to deny that this is what she was thinking. ‘I’m not saying you don’t,’ she says.
‘David’s landlord is selling up,’ I add. ‘It’s not his fault. I offered to let him move in. It was my choice. He didn’t ask.’
That’s largely true. We’d moved onto seeing each other most nights, even if it was only for a movie and a glass of wine or two on the sofa. He’d mentioned that he might have to move away after his landlord sold and it was clear at what he was hinting. He kept coming back to it before I finally caved. He didn’taskspecifically, but he might as well have done. I had to ask myself whether I wanted him to leave.
‘You don’t have to justify anything to me,’ Jane replies. ‘But it’s a big step. You only met at my birthday six weeks ago.’
The fact that she knows this apparently off the top of her head says plenty.
‘Didn’t you and Ben move in together during your second year at uni?’ I ask.
‘That was different,’ she says.
‘Was it? I thought you moved in together to save money and share costs…?’
