You're the One That I Want

  ‘I don’t, Mum. Honestly.’

  ‘Why are you smiling like that, then?’

  ‘Because I’ve never seen you act like this before, that’s why.’

  ‘Oh …’ she said, suddenly unsure whether she should carry on or not. ‘Well, perhaps I should keep it a secret, then. You don’t want to hear it from me. Forget I said anything.’

  ‘Mum! Go on, you can’t leave it there.’

  ‘Ah, it’s just too exciting to keep from you, and there’s no one else I can tell,’ she practically screamed, bursting with happiness. ‘Robert’s gone and asked for permission.’

  ‘What sort of permission?’

  ‘Don’t be daft. To ask Maddy to marry him. He went over to see Kathryn and Greg yesterday – Carol told me this morning. They’re all so excited.’

  I should have guessed it would happen one day. They’d been together since they were sixteen and had lived with each other for three years – it was the next step, we weren’t kids any longer. The feelings it conjured shocked me – I was happy for them, but, mostly, I was sad. Sad that, if there was ever any doubt about the matter, Maddy and I would never have a chance of being together. It was a selfish thought, but it arose in me nonetheless, causing me to be annoyed at my heart for betraying me after all those years.

  ‘Didn’t he say anything to you?’

  ‘No,’ I said, managing to smile at my mother’s beaming face.

  ‘I expect he wanted it to be a surprise for you too. Oh, it’ll be a lovely day for all of you really, not just them two.’

  ‘Do you know when he’s going to do it?’

  ‘No idea, love. Next few weeks or months, though, I’d have thought. I don’t think he has a ring yet.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘I know. Exciting, huh? Better get looking for a hat!’ she beamed, unable to hide her excitement. ‘Ooh, and, well, I know Rob’s got two brothers, but I’m sure you’ll be best man. You’ll have to do a speech and everything. We can go through the loft and dig out some old photos. I think we’ve even got some from when I first met Carol. Yes, some great ones of you two eating ice cream in your prams, it’s all over your faces.’

  I played along with her joy, trying to ignore the panic stirring within me at the thought of losing Maddy, the girl I’d tried so hard not to love.

  That Saturday night Alice and I were on our sofa watching The Jonathan Ross Show, tucking into an Indian takeaway – something we treated ourselves to more than we ought to. It was a bad habit that had lingered with us since our university days.

  ‘Do you ever think about the future?’ I asked, topping up our glasses of wine, of which we’d had quite a few – another bad habit that had carried over from student life.

  ‘In what way?’ she asked, mopping up some pilau rice that had escaped from her plate and fallen onto her lap.

  ‘I dunno, what you think it’ll be like?’

  ‘Well, when I was six we were asked to draw a picture of what we thought the millennium would look like – I drew some elaborate flying car and a robotic dog. My teacher said I was unrealistic but imaginative … I guess I’m still waiting for my flying car to be invented,’ she shrugged with a giggle.

  ‘Not like that. I mean, where do you see yourself in five or ten years’ time?’

  ‘Oh,’ she tutted, tapping her fork against the side of her plate as she thought of her answer. ‘Editor of my own glossy magazine, with my own office overlooking the river – a vast upgrade from the shambolic mess I currently work in …’

  ‘Nice,’ I encouraged, watching her forehead crease as she contemplated her future.

  ‘Living in a massive house with a swimming pool and a pink Ferrari on the swooping driveway.’

  ‘Pink? Not red?’

  ‘This is my vision, not yours. Am I being unrealistic again? Was my teacher right?’

  ‘Not at all,’ I laughed. ‘You can have your pink Ferrari.’

  ‘Good. I’ll also be married to some charming man, whoever he may be,’ she chuckled. ‘And mum to a few delightful sprogs.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful.’

  ‘Doesn’t it?’ she laughed. ‘You?’

  ‘Same,’ I nodded

  ‘Editor of a magazine?’

  ‘Obviously not, but the rest of it works.’

  ‘Marriage and kids? Most guys our age would run a mile at the very thought of it,’ she said, taken aback by the revelation as she raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Not me.’

  As we sat there smiling at each other, over our chicken tikka masalas, the next words spurted from my mouth before I’d even had a chance to think them through properly.

  ‘Will you marry me?’

  It wasn’t just me they’d surprised – Alice’s wide-eyed look told me that I’d completely caught her off guard too. Just like me, she hadn’t been expecting it.

  We sat in silence, looking at each other with our mouths open in shock.

  ‘What did you say?’ she asked, her voice wavering with emotion.

  ‘I think I just asked you to marry me,’ I laughed nervously.

  ‘Did you mean it? There’s still time to take it back, if not.’

  ‘Do you want me to take it back?’

  ‘Not at all …’

  We laughed then, broke down in giggles over the grown-up thing we were committing to.

  ‘So, will you? Will you be my wife?’

  ‘Of course I will. Yes!’ she beamed.

  It was the most unromantic proposal in the world. Unplanned, unnecessary and done purely because I’d been scared of my own feelings. Petrified that I wasn’t over Maddy and aware of just how much it was going to hurt watching her walk down the aisle towards someone else. I was in need of having my own future secured to give myself a little piece of armour, so that I’d be okay when that day finally came. It was the most selfish thing I’d ever done.

  Maddy

  Twenty-four years old

  It was Ben and Alice’s turn to head out our way that Sunday and, rather than stick to the High Road, we decided to go down to the Old Ship – a pub that sat on the river with great scenic views of the city. We’d found it the previous summer and loved spending our warm nights under the twinkling fairy lights which hung over their wooden benches. It was just as heaving in the winter months, but luckily we’d booked a table. The place was rammed with people who’d gone for walks along the river only to find themselves in need of warming up after being frozen by the bitterly cold December air – families fooled into not wearing enough layers of clothing by the bright blue skies.

  Robert and I were sitting in our window seats, people-watching the walking ice-pops, when Ben and Alice arrived, both looking rather pleased with themselves as they fought their way through the other diners. Hugs, squeezes (not that sort) and kisses were shared before they whipped off their jackets and sat in their seats. The drinks hadn’t even been ordered by the time Alice leaned across, unable to contain her excitement any longer, and shrieked out their news.

  ‘We’re getting married! Ben asked me last night. You’re the first people we’re telling,’ she giggled, before looking at Ben with admiration. ‘We’ve not even told our parents yet.’

  There was an indisputable momentary hiatus, which probably shouldn’t have occurred, as Robert and I looked to Ben for confirmation. I knew the cause of my own surprise, but not Robert’s.

  ‘It’s true,’ Ben laughed, grabbing hold of her hand and beaming back at us.

  They looked ridiculously happy and in love.

  ‘Wow! Congratulations,’ I smiled.

  ‘Brilliant, just brilliant,’ added Robert, with a slight edge to his voice.

  It didn’t take me long to notice the absence of a diamond ring, letting me assume the proposal had been a hasty decision on Ben’s part. I wondered why. I’d thought Alice might have been pregnant, that Ben was keen to do the right thing by her and their unborn baby, but as Prosecco was ordered to toast their engagement and swiftly drunk by Alice, the
idea was quickly erased. There was no baby. In fact, as the afternoon wore on, Ben revealed that he hadn’t intended on asking the question, it popped out and surprised him just as much as it had Alice. Not that either of them seemed to mind its spontaneity; the fact that it was an off-the-cuff decision seemed, to them, to make the whole thing more romantic.

  I liked Alice a lot. I even liked her and Ben together. Having her there, as a part of our group, had, in the end, made life easier for the pair of us. Everything was less awkward with her around. She made it easier to pretend certain feelings had never been an issue, that boundaries had never been crossed. I hadn’t, however, expected Ben to ask her to marry him. Ever. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

  I’d taken Pearl’s advice all those years before, and reminded myself of her words regularly; that day was one of those times, as I realized I wasn’t the only one who’d chosen their path and stuck to it. It occurred to me that, if Ben was willing to make such a grand gesture, prompted by the love he felt for Alice, I was far from his mind. I can’t deny it, the truth stung probably more than it should have.

  Alice radiated joy that afternoon, she had a real sparkle of happiness in her eyes – and talked non-stop. Clearly buzzing with elation as she reeled off endless possible ideas for their wedding, all the while smiling at Ben as though we weren’t even there. The omission was probably a good thing, as neither of them seemed to notice the lull coming from our side of the table. Yes, I wasn’t the only one dubious about the sudden announcement – Robert seemed off about it too. He acted strangely all afternoon, was quieter than usual and appeared agitated, not that he admitted to it.

  ‘You okay?’ I asked as we walked the short journey back to our house, holding hands through our matching black gloves. Even though we both had on our thick winter coats, mine mustard yellow, his black, the wind managed to work its way in and chill our bones wherever it could, causing my jaw to chatter uncomfortably as we talked.

  ‘Yeah. Course,’ he frowned.

  ‘Weird to think that one of us will be getting married,’ I laughed, trying to prompt him into a conversation.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I never thought it would be Ben going first, though.’

  ‘You’re telling me,’ he answered glumly.

  ‘They both seem really happy about it.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Wondered if she was pregnant at first.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘She’s not, though.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You sure you’re okay, Rob?’ I asked, getting irritated with his monosyllabic responses.

  ‘What? Yeah. Just got a lot on,’ he sighed. ‘School stuff.’

  ‘Right.’

  I knew he was lying, but didn’t want to push any conversation involving Ben. My guess was that he was just disgruntled because Ben, his bestest buddy, hadn’t shared the news with him first – or given any warning that it might have been a possibility.

  It was also possible that he could have been a bit sad to realize that they were about to become even more divided than ever. Before I’d come along they’d been an indivisible duo, by each other’s side night and day, but since we were eighteen they’d become more and more separated – first by university, then by living apart. I wondered whether he was worried marriage would separate them even further. Robert might put on a tough exterior, but his friendship with Ben was something he always treasured and valued highly.

  Sometimes men were more complex than women gave them credit for. I left him to his own thoughts, knowing that, if he wanted to share them, he’d do so in his own time.

  He never did.

  Ben

  Twenty-four years old …

  Robert had decided to tell Carol about me suddenly popping the question. I knew this because on Monday morning I woke up to find six missed calls from my mum. The fact she’d tried to call so many times did not bode well. I could envisage the steam from her ears increasing each time she hit the redial button, only for her call to be left unanswered.

  Deciding to bite the bullet and get the conversation over with, I called her back straight away from under my duvet, closing my eyes in preparation for the bollocking I was about to receive. Following our conversation the previous week I knew, once my mum found out, I’d have to own up to being a prize idiot, or plead ignorance … whatever I said, there was no way she was going to let me act as though I’d done nothing wrong, or let me get away with it.

  ‘What on earth have you gone and done?’ she shouted down the phone. I was glad Alice had already left for work, otherwise she’d have definitely heard her shrieking tone, and I’ve no idea how I’d have explained that one.

  ‘I thought you’d be pleased,’ I said. That was a lie. I knew Mum would be angry at me, I just hoped her anger would subside quick enough so that I could take Alice over to celebrate – the longer I left it the more suspicious she’d become; I didn’t want her thinking my mum didn’t like her. That was why I’d said we should wait before telling our parents – suggesting it would be nicer to do it once we had the ring and could tell them face to face. Alice, who, unsurprisingly, liked the idea of getting her finger blinged up first needed little convincing.

  ‘You said you liked Alice,’ I cheekily continued.

  ‘Oh, I do, you know that,’ she said, thankfully losing a bit of the honking volume in her voice. ‘And, yes, I’m very pleased that Alice is going to be a Gilbert one day.’

  ‘Well, then …’

  ‘That’s really not the point, though, is it?’ she continued.

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘No, and you know it, Ben,’ she said with exasperation. ‘I told you what Robert had planned.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And? And?!’ she shouted. ‘Less than a week later you’ve gone and ruined it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘By getting in there first, that’s how.’

  ‘Mum, it’s not like that.’

  ‘Just tell me one thing, had the thought even crossed your mind before I told you about Robert asking Kathryn and Greg? Answer me honestly.’

  I screwed up my face before giving her my answer.

  ‘No.’

  I couldn’t lie about that, besides, it was more of a leading question than an actual inquiry – she knew what I was going to say before I said it.

  ‘Oh, Ben,’ she groaned.

  ‘What?’

  ‘What have you done?’

  ‘Nothing, Mum … it’s not going to affect him doing it.’

  ‘Of course it is, he’s not going to ask her now, is he? He’ll have to wait – and not just weeks, months!’

  I hadn’t even thought of it like that, but Mum was obviously right. There was no way Robert would ask straight after I had – even if his own proposal was going to be properly thought through and planned. He wouldn’t want his proposal to overshadow mine (he was gentlemanly like that) or, even worse, for it to look like he was only doing it because I had. Maddy would have hated the overlap of celebrations, and he knew it. I’d realized he was annoyed the day before – he’d been full of smiles when we first walked in but then hardly said a word after Alice told them, other than to mutter his congratulations. It occurred to me later that, having sought Maddy’s parents’ approval, I might have been next on his list of people to speak to about it – perhaps he’d have found a quiet moment at the pub to tell me – the idea made me feel crap. I’d been so apprehensive about Maddy’s response that I hadn’t even thought about what might have been going through Rob’s mind.

  Maddy didn’t even flinch at the news. A smile broke out on her face within seconds as she showered us with congratulations, seemingly delighted for us. It put into perspective how little past events must have meant to her, forcing me into focusing on Alice, basking in her smile as I reminded myself of all the things I loved about her, why marrying her was a good idea and why I didn’t need Maddy.

  ‘Sorry, Mum,’ I mumbled.

  ‘A bit
too late for that, isn’t it?’

  ‘I just didn’t think.’

  ‘You’re telling me.’

  ‘Okay, so I hadn’t thought about asking before you mentioned it,’ I rambled, hating the fact that Mum was clearly disappointed with me. ‘But hearing that made me think about Alice and me, about our future and what I wanted. I admit, I stupidly got too excited about asking and it slipped out when I hadn’t meant it to.’

  I was greeted with silence from the other end of the line.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘If I wasn’t so annoyed with you I’d almost find that romantic, Benjamin Gilbert,’ she laughed, as it became apparent she’d been holding back her tears.

  I was grateful to have won her over.

  ‘I rang Maddy earlier,’ Alice told me that night, as she grabbed vegetables out of the fridge to go into the dinner. The chicken was already in the wok, so we were halfway towards sitting down with our stir-fry with sweet chilli sauce – I was ravenous, it already smelt amazing.

  ‘Oh, really?’

  Maddy and Alice talking on the phone wasn’t something that happened all the time, but the two of them had managed to grow quite close over the years – hardly surprising seeing as we were all hanging out together every weekend. It would have been weird if they weren’t friends.

  ‘Yeah,’ she continued, plonking a pepper, carrot and some baby sweetcorn on the kitchen side to be chopped and sliced. ‘Well, I suddenly thought – remember that lovely shoot she did with that couple last year, when they got engaged?’

  ‘Yeah …’ I said slowly, concerned as to where the conversation was going.

  I remembered the shoot – Maddy had taken the couple down to the river and snapped some great pictures of them together while they gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes as though they hadn’t a care in the world. I liked them. I thought Maddy had done a wonderful job. I mean, they were cheesy beyond belief, but I don’t think it’s possible to do such a shoot without a little bit of Cheddar being thrown in. All those lovey-dovey looks and smug faces as you congratulate each other on finding ‘the one’ – it’s definitely not for the cynics out there. That’s for sure.