Ben coughs, sudden and hard. Something caught in his throat.
‘Are you okay?’ Ria asks.
‘Yep,’ Ben gasps.
‘I was saying he has a huge old television . . .’
Thirty-Three
‘Ben . . . you asleep?’
He snaps awake at her voice pushing through the layers of sleep. Her tone is different; she sounds worried. He looks up to see her standing in the doorway to his room, bathed in a silvery glow of moonlight streaming through the windows. A screech outside. A thunderous roar from far off. An instant reminder of where he is in time and place.
‘Ben?’
‘Yeah,’ he whispers, gruff and deep from sleep. ‘What? What’s up?’
She hesitates, not speaking. He can sense her nerves.
‘Safa? What’s up?’
She goes to turn away, but stops and moves forward, then stands with her hands at her side, suddenly afraid and not knowing what to do. He rejected her before, but that was the old Ben. Not this Ben. Hearing Ria and Derek has played on her mind. Seeing Ria coming back so much calmer tonight, laughing and smiling softly. Still sad, still with tears in her eyes, but like the bad energy is gone. She thought what Ria did was wrong but right. Things are black and white to Safa. Anything in between is too difficult and weird, so she shies away and puts the wall up and tells everyone to fuck off.
Ben sits up, instantly worried. ‘Safa? You okay?’
She moves fast, as though worried something will happen to stop her. She closes the door and crosses through the moonlight to his bed. ‘Budge over.’
‘Eh?’
She doesn’t wait, but sinks down on to his mattress as he slides over to make room. She lies on her right side facing away from him. He stares. Too stunned to do or say anything.
He swallows, blinks and starts easing himself down with the instant worry of what to do. She’s right there and only wearing a vest top and knickers.
She turns to look up at him, the whites of her eyes so clear, the shape of them, the contours of her face. She saw a picture of Steph tonight and hated it. She hated it with a passion. She hates that Ben had that connection. Like jealousy, but not jealousy. She doesn’t know what it is, only that she didn’t like it.
‘Lie down,’ she whispers, her voice strange in both their ears.
He lowers slowly, taking care that his groin does not touch her backside. His right arm goes under the pillow. His heart thunders.
‘Safa . . . are you okay?’
‘Fuck’s sake, hold me.’ She tries to sound like Safa, bossy and hard, but it comes out soft and asking instead of telling. She turns again, blinking at him. ‘If you want to . . .’
He moves to cocoon, sensing it is right, feeling it is right. His right arm moves under the pillow as she lifts her head so he can slide it under her. His left arm goes over. She moves back into him. Her heart whumping through her back so hard he can feel it. Her whole body trembling. The thought of Safa being scared makes him move closer, holding tighter. She curls up and moves back. He moves forward and lowers his head so his mouth is but a millimetre from the top of her head hardly believing this is happening.
‘We’re not having sex.’
He smiles into the darkness at the blunt voice of the woman he adores so much. ‘Okay.’
She winces at herself. Why did she say it like that? This is bliss, lying here. It’s so nice. He’s so warm and cuddly. Safa doesn’t do cuddling, but right now she loves cuddling.
‘I want to have sex . . . but . . . not now.’
‘Okay.’
That’s even worse. Now she sounds like a cock-tease.
‘I’m not a cock-tease.’
‘I know.’
Stop talking.
‘I did want sex that night I came in . . .’
‘Yeah?’
‘Like loads . . .’
Oh god, now she sounds too eager.
‘I’m glad we didn’t,’ he says.
Why did he say that?
‘Me too.’ No, she’s not. She wishes they did have sex. ‘I did want to have sex, and I wish we did.’
Oh, you twat.
‘Me too,’ he says.
‘But we can’t have sex now.’
Stop fucking talking.
‘Okay.’
‘I want to have sex now.’
‘Er . . .’
Now she’s confused him. Stop confusing him.
‘Am I confusing you?’
‘No. You’re Safa.’
What does that mean?
‘I’m shit at this stuff, Ben.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘I never had friends before.’
Oh my god. Why did she say that? Why isn’t he saying anything back?
‘Why aren’t you saying anything back?’
‘I’m listening.’
‘Not like a girlfriend. Like a girl who is a friend . . . Not a lesbian friend.’
Shut up.
‘Okay.’
‘I’m not homophobic. I meant I never had a mate, like a girl mate. Like Emily.’
Seriously. Shut up.
‘Okay.’
‘Or a boyfriend.’
‘Okay.’
‘I fancy you.’
Don’t tell him that.
‘I fancy you too.’
Yes! He fancies her.
He moves position, re-adjusting to get closer, more comfortable. She pulls his hand in to her chest and realises the back of his hand is pushing against her left boob. Can he feel the nipple? What if he feels the nipple?
‘Can you feel my nipple?’
Shut the fuck up. Please. For the love of god.
‘Er, no . . . No, I can’t.’
What if the nipple gets hard? What if he gets an erection? What then?
‘Safa?’
‘What?’
‘Stop worrying.’
‘Okay . . . but what if you get a hard-on or my nipple gets erect?’
‘It’s fine.’
It’s fine. Ben said it’s fine.
‘Ben?’
‘Yep?’
‘Some cunting, fucking bastard sexually abused me . . . so . . . And, like, men always say how pretty my eyes are and try and fuck me, but I did want sex with you that night. And I want sex now and I fancy you and I’m horny, but I got worried and . . . And Ria did that tonight and it made me think and I saw that cunt Steph and . . . And I’ll never lie to you or anyone and I’ll never let anyone ever hurt you like that Steph did and I know I’m a fucking nightmare, but . . . Well, say something then, for fuck’s sake.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay? What does that mean? Just okay? What’s okay?’
‘I’m not the man who did that. You have friends now. You have Mad Harry Madden and me and Miri, and Emily likes you, and I will never lie to you. I won’t try and fuck you ever. Men don’t do that, Safa. Real men don’t do that. I won’t do that, and if you tell me who that man is, I will kill him, and if I don’t, then Harry will. You are gorgeous and I am willing myself not to get an erection and offend you, but if it happens, then it is because I adore you more than you could ever know, but on every level of you being you and not just because you have tits and nice eyes, so, yes, this is more than okay. You make everything okay.’
‘Oh.’
Wow. He said all that.
‘Okay?’ he asks.
‘Okay.’
Okay. It’s more than okay.
‘It’s more than okay. Sleep now.’
‘Okay, Safa.’
‘If you get an erection, it’s fine now.’
‘Okay.’
‘And if my nipple goes hard, then that’s also fine.’
‘Okay.’
‘Night, Ben.’
‘Night. Safa.’
‘You can kiss my neck if you want.’
Thirty-Four
‘Morning,’ Emily says, walking into the main room.