Maddie Please - The Mini-Break

‘Benedict? Toby? Where is he?’

Toby blinked a bit. ‘Well his bike was chained up on the landing last night. I’ve told him he’s not supposed to leave it there and he says he’s going to sort it but he never does.’

‘But have you seen him?’ I said.

Toby’s eyes slid away from mine. ‘Isn’t he here? Oh I don’t know. You know. I mean – oh bugger, look anyone want another drink?’

I bit my lip and took a deep breath. Toby might be a bright spark when it came to financial matters and fund management – he wasn’t called Sedge the Hedge for nothing – but he was notoriously unreliable when it came to everyday life. Eventually, several bowls of tapas later and topped up with the best part of a carafe of red wine, I got a taxi back to my flat.

*

I felt quite excited as I got home. I was genuinely looking forward to seeing Benedict again. Maybe being away from each other had done the trick and it would help rekindle the spark we seemed to have lost. But the very first thing I noticed when I reached my door was Benedict’s blasted bike chained to a radiator. Yes I do understand it is far too valuable to be left outside overnight, though why he had to spend seven grand on a bike just to pedal less than two miles I’ll never know. It shouldn’t have been there at all. It should have been in the basement garage in the bike rack. The sight of it and its stupid anorexic tyres immediately ruined my good mood. I could so clearly visualise him in his equally irritating bike helmet and his monumentally unattractive bike gear as he steamed through Hyde Park, roundly cursing every pedestrian who got in his way.

With new and uncharacteristic reserve, I closed the front door quietly behind me and went to put my keys in the brass bowl, only to find it wasn’t there and a particularly vile ceramic dish had replaced it.

I went through into the kitchen and found Benedict sitting on one of my new Calligaris gas-lift bar stools watching a blonde chopping onions. She was wearing my Statue of Liberty apron over a dress that was falling off her shoulders at the top end and hardly covered her assets at the other.

‘What 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.