The Mini-Break. Maddie Please
the hell is going on here?’ I said, in a voice that had somehow raised itself by several octaves.
Benedict looked startled. ‘Oh hi, Lu, this is Tess. I’m not sure if you’ve met?’
The blonde waved at me with my eight-inch chef’s knife and carried on chopping.
‘I said what are you doing? Who is she?’
Benedict looked a bit wild-eyed. ‘You’re supposed to be in Devon. I didn’t expect you back for a few days. Tess offered to show me how to make French onion soup.’
‘I bet she did,’ I muttered.
‘She’s just a friend, Lulu,’ Benedict said patiently, getting the situation under control as though I was in the slow learners group. ‘I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss.’
‘Because I’m home now,’ I said. I was starting to feel a bit foolish, wondering whether I really had over-reacted. Benedict has that effect on me.
‘And it’s simply wonderful to see you, petal,’ he said, coming over to kiss me. ‘Have you had a lovely time?’
This is my flat, I wanted to shout. After all, Benedict had never paid a penny towards the mortgage. We’d had discussions about that before now and he had recently taken over paying the electricity bill. Why that should make a difference, I don’t know.
‘Percy was going to come round later for a quick drink,’ Benedict added, ‘to celebrate the Winston versus Hardman win.’
Percy was a particularly odious friend of his who seemed to do nothing but oil his way around the chambers of the Old Bailey pretending to be more important than he was.
‘To be honest I’m tired. I’d rather he didn’t.’
Benedict opened his mouth to argue and then, seeing my expression, did a bit of back-pedalling. ‘Okay. I’ll text him. Look, don’t be sulky, sweetie. I’ve missed you; I just didn’t know you’d be back today.’
‘Didn’t you notice my bags in the bedroom?’
Benedict looked vague. ‘No.’
The blonde pouted and looked at Benedict. ‘Perhaps I’d better go?’
‘Good idea,’ I said, pulling my coat off, ‘Tess.’
Benedict sighed. ‘Better find your things, sweetie, thanks anyway.’
She flounced off into the hallway, her pert bottom wiggling, and Benedict had the nerve to watch it go for a few seconds before I cleared my throat rather loudly and brought his attention back to me.
‘So what’s going on?’ I hissed.
‘God, nothing is going on. Look, Lu, you’ve got to stop being so neurotic.’
‘I’m not neurotic,’ I said.
‘You came back before I expected you.’
‘So this is my fault?’
‘No – well, partly—’
‘Okay, I’m sorry—’
As the words left my mouth I was furious with the way I was backing down yet again. I should stand my ground and sling him and the bottom wiggler out into the street.
At that moment the blonde returned looking petulant.
‘I’ve called an Uber; have you got some cash, Benny?’
Benedict gave her a fifty-pound note and they exchanged three, slow air kisses in a rather infuriating fashion. Then she gave me a little wave and a white, gleaming smile.
‘Lovely to meet you,’ she said.
‘So?’ I said as the front door closed behind her.
‘So?’ Benedict repeated, stabbing at his phone.
‘So what was she doing here? Why was she in my flat, in my kitchen?’
‘What on earth is the matter? Look, I’ve put Percy off – now come here, you’re getting hysterical,’ he said, holding out his arms and looking at me with the expression I know he thought was sexy and irresistible. I took a deep breath.
‘I’m entitled to be annoyed when I come home unexpectedly and find you entertaining another woman. How would you feel if you came back and found me with another bloke here?’
‘I wouldn’t mind a jot, sweetie. I wasn’t entertaining as you put it. Aren’t we above all that sort of silly insecurity?’
‘Well I’m not,’ I said angrily, ‘and if you’re so keen to see Percy all the time why don’t you go and live with him?’
Benedict looked a bit panicky for a moment. ‘What are you saying, darling? You don’t mean that. I don’t want to go and live with Percy. I love you, I like living here. With you. Come on, I’ve said I’m sorry. I was thoughtless.’
‘Yes, you were.’
‘Well let’s forget all about it. I promise I’ll be good.’
He looked at me with sad puppy dog eyes and a little pout and despite myself I laughed.
‘Oh stop it, you fool.’
‘Right, well let me pour you a glass of wine but first of all, come here and give me a kiss. You’re looking superb. The country air must suit you. Fancy a fuck?’
*
I woke up the following morning after a restless night avoiding Benedict’s hands. I had a shower and then, wrapped in a towel, sat on the side of the bath to consider my options. I’d definitely let Benedict off far too easily. Anyone else would have had a hissy fit and slung him out on his ear. Why hadn’t I? Don’t think I wasn’t tempted. I knew he needed to think about what he’d done. And show a lot more consideration on a regular basis. I needed more time away from him before doing anything rash. I would focus on my work and when it was finished I would decide what to do next.
I know I’m my own worst enemy and I should have brought some of my muscular, attractive men friends round to make Benedict sit up and rethink his attitude. It crossed my mind that Joe Field would have made short shrift of Benedict and his over-groomed, metropolitan body. He would have swept him, his hair products, anti-allergy nose drops and Xbox out in record time, but of course Joe Field was several hours away and I didn’t know anyone else like him.
My parents were somewhere in America touring around the national parks in a Winnebago large enough for a scout troop. I suppose I could have gone to stay in their house, but they live near Inverness and they have a lot of rules about smoking and wine consumption and knowing my luck the fridge would be empty and the freezer full of vegan, gluten-free, preservative-free meals. At my age I need all the preservatives I can get.
I mentally ran through my address book and couldn’t think of anyone who would have me in their house for an indeterminate time while I got some much-needed distance from Benedict or with whom I could bear to share a bathroom.
Property prices being what they were in London, hardly anyone I knew could afford to buy a two-bedroom flat and most of the people I socialised with these days were child-free like me and didn’t need to consider a flatmate, so that automatically meant a sofa bed. Perhaps I was getting soft in my old age? Or perhaps I was just too fussy. I suppose the same constraints applied to Benedict. And let’s be honest he’d have to be desperate to move in with Percy. I couldn’t do that to him no matter how cross I felt.
I could have gone to stay with Jassy but the following day Ralphie came back from Antigua.
I mean I quite like Ralphie; he’s handsome in a floppy, public schoolboy, blond Hugh Grant sort of way. He’s reasonably tidy and clean and well behaved – well he has to be after all the bad behaviour on cricket tours of years past, otherwise he’d lose his job. But for all that he has to be