He sank to his knees, cocking his head and listening.
His voice strained a little as he reached back into the U-bend. “That woman keeps trying to get me to prevent Anette from taking her hearing aids out in public so she has a chance to be ‘normal.’ Right from the very first time you met Anette, you’ve always treated her like she’s just how she should be. And because of the things you do, when she looks at you, she sees that it’s okay not to care about what people think. Around you, she doesn’t have to be ‘normal.’ She’s just herself. That’s the conversation you were overhearing. Screwdriver.”
I scrambled to straighten the toolbox and handed him the first thing that looked like one.
“But . . . you don’t really like me. I keep messing things up.”
“Now, where,” said Ben, frowning as he used the end of the screwdriver to try to dislodge the clog, “did you get that idea?”
Bzzzzzzzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. Oh, God. He’d switched her to some kind of turbo function.
“You weren’t at Gil’s last week,” I said, somewhat weakly.
“We messaged you,” he said. “What else can possibly be in here?” he mumbled.
“You did?”
“We sent photos,” Ben said. He cocked his head. “Aha!” He yanked his hand out, wielding something triumphantly. It took him a full two seconds to realize he was brandishing a vibrator at me, on the maximum setting.
* * *
While Ben took a shower, I sat on my bed to update my friends on Clog Gate, as it would henceforth be known.
Ben is in my shower.
I pushed the rather distracting thought to one side on seeing I had over fifty messages.
SARAH: EVERYTHING IS RUINED. I’M CANCELING THE WEDDING
EVIE: what’s happened? Is everything OK?
SARAH: the stupid photographer has broken his stupid leg, dancing at someone else’s stupid wedding! He’s canceled with two days to go!! Jim is threatening to have one of his cousins step in!!!
EVIE: I’m so sorry, Sarah. Isn’t there anyone else?
I pressed a hand over my thundering heart. While I couldn’t have been more relieved to find Sarah was just being Sarah, I would also like to live to a ripe old age.
Without looking, I knew what Sarah’s response would be.
SARAH: Evie, you have to ask Ben
EVIE: it might not be as easy as that
JEREMY: Hot Widower!
SARAH: I’m begging you. Remember how you ruined my hen do? You owe me big time. He’s far more talented than an actual wedding photographer
MARIA: I agree this does seem like a perfect option if he’s free, but didn’t Evie say he was camera shy these days?
I slipped a pair of jeans and a jumper on as I considered what to do. Ben had already done so much for me.
He might have said he was no longer a photographer, but I knew part of him still loved it. Which meant there was still a chance he could find his way back to it, regardless of what had happened to make him stop. As small as it might seem, maybe this wedding could help. This could be my chance to return his kindness.
I’d do it.
I decided I’d show up for Ben.
EVIE: OK, I’ll try
SARAH: great! That’s all sorted then. Good thing I didn’t overreact
JEREMY: !
EVIE: I can’t promise anything
SARAH: it’s fine, I know he’ll say yes to you
MARIA: good luck, my love
I hovered outside the door of the loo, listening to Ben singing the title song from Singin’ in the Rain.
“Do you want a hot chocolate?” I called, before realizing I was offering him more brown liquid.
The singing stopped. “Yes. Thank you,” he called.
Clearly he had a strong stomach. “I’ve left a top on my bed for you.”
A few minutes later, Ben padded into the kitchen behind me, his dark hair wet and fluffy from where he’d half dried it with a towel. He was wearing my old Sheffield University hoodie, and it looked far better on him.
“Is that a Brick Park quote on your wall?” he asked. “‘Make it mean something’?”
“Yes,” I said. “My dad had it made for me.” So Ben could quote my favorite film, no big deal. I added extra marshmallows to his drink.
“Your hair,” Ben said.
I touched it self-consciously. It had gone straight back to its natural curl as soon as the water had hit it. “The styling’s all come out,” I said ruefully.
“I like it that way.”
I smiled, handing him the Gil’s-branded mug. “Here. Happy Valentine’s Day. Thank you for spending it unblocking my toilet.”
He laughed, then swapped his mug for mine. “Chip,” he said, pointing at the one he was now holding.
Once we’d settled on the sofa together, I spooned marshmallows into my mouth for strength before I began.
Here goes.
“There’s something I want to ask you.”
Ben blew on his drink, watching me with his steady eyes.
“Are you busy this weekend?”
He stopped blowing. “Just the usual. Why?”
“It’s my friend Sarah’s wedding.” I got my words out as quickly as possible. “I know it’s not what you’re used to, and it’s just a wedding, well, it isn’t ‘just’ a wedding to my friend, which is why this would mean so much, and of course Anette is welcome too.”
Ben sat up straighter, something like hope on his face. I carried on, encouraged. “Sarah will reimburse any costs, and pay you, of course, and the accommodation is already sorted because the original photographer had a room.” I glanced at my phone. Sarah had been firing details at me for the last fifteen minutes.
“You’re asking me to be the photographer,” he said slowly, sinking back into the chair.
“You’d be doing me another huge favor, and I know you’ve already pulled a sex toy out of my toilet this evening, but it would really mean a lot to Sarah.”
And the thing is, I willed him to know, I think it might be exactly what you need.
Ben remained very still. Come on, Ben, take a chance. Please.
He stood.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”