‘Youwere shocked!’ I followed him in.
‘You looked like something out of a horror film, standing there, your face all in shadow. I was ready to call your sister to perform an exorcism.’
‘Thanks a lot!’ I shook my head as Ben held up a whisky bottle. ‘I’m baking four hundred chocca mocha caramel muffins tomorrow, followed by the joy of Lottie’s recorder recital. I don’t need any other reason for a sore head. But I will have a chamomile tea.’ I found my handbag on the floor and pulled out a teabag.
‘You carry tea in your handbag?’ Ben flicked the kettle on.
‘I didn’t think you two were chamomile-tea-in-the-cupboards kind of guys.’
‘Fair enough.’
* * *
We settled on the sofas, me with tea, Ben with a beer. I tried to stuff the image of him a few minutes ago to the back of my brain. I should have felt mortified. I was the kind of woman who felt uncomfortable even talking about body parts, let alone seeing them. But Ben made it impossible to feel self-conscious. He cracked a couple of jokes about getting me to sign a flat-share agreement that included not barging into each other’s bedrooms in the middle of the night along with, ‘You know, the basic stuff like flushing the toilet after a number two and not borrowing each other’s toothbrush. I mean, I thought they were the basics, but I guess it’s safer to be explicit.’
He paused.
‘And by explicit, I mean clear and unambiguous. Not… naked.’
‘Does the agreement include not bringing up embarrassing incidents ever again, especially in front of other people such as flatmate’s sisters or parents?’
Ben paused again, face solemn, dark eyes dancing. ‘It does now.’
‘Can I please say sorry one more time?’ I asked.
‘I think the flat-share agreement says that you can’t, as that would require bringing up the incident.’
‘Okay, so can I say sorry about this whole thing, then? Cooper’s only been living with you for a few months, and now he’s moved his new wife in. It will only be for a few weeks, and I promise I’ll be a perfect flatmate. I’m really tidy, and love cleaning. I’m often out working at the weekends, and I make the best cakes, doughnuts, bread, pizza… anything really.’
‘What makes you think I mind you being here?’
I sat back, surprised. ‘Well. Living with a newly-wed couple is not what most people would choose.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve lived with a lot worse. A couple who’ve been married for years and descended into bitterness and loathing, for example. A couple where both parties used to sneak lovers into the house and expect me to cover for them. And, ah, yes, the couple who alternated between screaming abuse at each other and gag-inducing PDAs on the kitchen table. They were possibly the worst.’
‘That’s horrible. I hope you booted them all out for wanton violations of the flatmates’ agreement.’
‘Given that it was my parents plus assorted step-parents – five, if we’re counting – and their houses not mine, I hunkered down until I was old enough to boot myself out.’
‘Is that why you hate marriage?’
Ben took a slow swig of beer. ‘I don’t hate marriage. In principle.’
‘At Alia and Mervyn’s wedding you called it a noose for two!’
Ben burst out laughing. ‘Did I really say that?’ He shook his head. ‘In my defence, I had spent the day with a nightmare bride, been slobbered on and gnawed at by her monstrous bridesmaids and then scrabbled around in a skip. I wasn’t in the best of moods.’
‘So, whatdoyou think about it?’
He took another drink while he thought about it. ‘I think the very rare occasions it ends up working well in comparison to the hassle and the devastation when it doesn’t make it a completely illogical option.’
‘Since when did logic come into it? Marriage is based on love, not logic.’
‘Yours isn’t.’
I nearly choked on my tea. For a moment there, I’d forgotten I was no longer single.
Ben stood up, draining the last of his beer. ‘Which is why I’m giving you and Cooper better odds than most. His bedroom’s at the end of the corridor. The door to the left is the bathroom. If you need clean sheets then, well, next time tell your husband you’re coming.’ And with a wink, he left me to it.
