that housed the flat that Giles and I had shared always struck me as exclusive and
extravagant with its river views and concierge, but it had no soul. My heels had always sounded hollow on the polished floor and our voices echoed off the empty walls and high ceilings. There was
plenty of style attached to the sought-after postcode, but little in the way of substance.
‘I’m sorry that Jemma gave you the impression that I wouldn’t recognise you, Ben,’ I apologised, as I passed him the coffee pot.
I knew it wasn’t really necessary to bring the subject up again but to me it still felt like unfinished business and after the humiliation of the beer-bubble snorting and Ella’s
little faux pas, I just wanted to start our relationship over, wipe the slate clean and get off on the right foot. It was inevitable that we were going to be spending a fair bit of time together
over the coming weeks and after the complications I’d left behind in London I was feeling determined to keep life in Wynbridge as simple as possible.
‘It’s OK,’ he shrugged, staring down and pinning me with his seductively dark gaze, ‘I’ll let you in on a little secret, shall I?’
‘What?’ I breathed, my stomach turning over as I stared back full of hope that he was going to enlighten me as to what he and Tom had been whispering about.
‘It was actually more likely that I wouldn’t recognise you!’
‘What, when I arrived you mean?’
‘No,’ Ben smiled wryly, ‘with your trademark hair and freckles it could only be you! I meant from the photographs Jemma showed me.’
‘Oh,’ I said, my eyes now firmly focused on my coffee cup. I was flattered he had remembered something about me, but it was hardly a compliment; my so-called ‘trademark hair
and freckles’ turned out to be more trouble than they were worth as a rule. For once it would have been nice to be remembered for just being me, for my sparkling conversation and razor-sharp
wit. Yeah right. Who was I kidding?
‘You looked very sleek and sophisticated,’ Ben continued, ‘not at all like the girl I used to see around school and working in the pub.’
‘Oh,’ I said again, my already crushed confidence taking another knock. At least he’d ‘seen me around’ but how exactly had I looked then: dull, dowdy,
desperate?
Ben took a swig of coffee then banged down his mug.
‘Shit,’ he muttered, ‘sorry, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean you didn’t look good before. Sorry, what I meant was . . .’
‘It’s fine,’ I interrupted. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
I felt even more awkward having guessed which photographs Jemma must have shown him. They were doubtless the set I’d sent her from the company Christmas ball and Ben was right, I had
looked sleek and sophisticated. My hair was smooth and straight, my nails polished and my elegant jade dress and matching Jimmy Choos, which had carried a jaw-dropping price tag, immaculate.
‘Well, I’m back to my old self now,’ I shrugged, tucking my hair behind my ears and desperately trying not to think about anything that was connected to Giles.
‘Good,’ Ben nodded. His expression was deadly serious as he took in my sloppy pj’s and dishevelled curls. ‘It never works, does it? I’ve discovered that for myself
recently.’ His tone was suddenly bitter and sounded far less friendly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Trying to pretend to be someone you’re not. It never turns out how you think it will. There’s a time limit on pretending. It simply isn’t possible to live a lie for
long.’
I opened my mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words. I was only just beginning to come to terms with how much Giles had changed me and my appearance during the course of our
relationship and I certainly didn’t need someone I barely knew nudging me to think about all the reasons as to why he might have done it.
‘I’m going for a shower,’ I mumbled, quickly slipping out of the room
extravagant with its river views and concierge, but it had no soul. My heels had always sounded hollow on the polished floor and our voices echoed off the empty walls and high ceilings. There was
plenty of style attached to the sought-after postcode, but little in the way of substance.
‘I’m sorry that Jemma gave you the impression that I wouldn’t recognise you, Ben,’ I apologised, as I passed him the coffee pot.
I knew it wasn’t really necessary to bring the subject up again but to me it still felt like unfinished business and after the humiliation of the beer-bubble snorting and Ella’s
little faux pas, I just wanted to start our relationship over, wipe the slate clean and get off on the right foot. It was inevitable that we were going to be spending a fair bit of time together
over the coming weeks and after the complications I’d left behind in London I was feeling determined to keep life in Wynbridge as simple as possible.
‘It’s OK,’ he shrugged, staring down and pinning me with his seductively dark gaze, ‘I’ll let you in on a little secret, shall I?’
‘What?’ I breathed, my stomach turning over as I stared back full of hope that he was going to enlighten me as to what he and Tom had been whispering about.
‘It was actually more likely that I wouldn’t recognise you!’
‘What, when I arrived you mean?’
‘No,’ Ben smiled wryly, ‘with your trademark hair and freckles it could only be you! I meant from the photographs Jemma showed me.’
‘Oh,’ I said, my eyes now firmly focused on my coffee cup. I was flattered he had remembered something about me, but it was hardly a compliment; my so-called ‘trademark hair
and freckles’ turned out to be more trouble than they were worth as a rule. For once it would have been nice to be remembered for just being me, for my sparkling conversation and razor-sharp
wit. Yeah right. Who was I kidding?
‘You looked very sleek and sophisticated,’ Ben continued, ‘not at all like the girl I used to see around school and working in the pub.’
‘Oh,’ I said again, my already crushed confidence taking another knock. At least he’d ‘seen me around’ but how exactly had I looked then: dull, dowdy,
desperate?
Ben took a swig of coffee then banged down his mug.
‘Shit,’ he muttered, ‘sorry, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean you didn’t look good before. Sorry, what I meant was . . .’
‘It’s fine,’ I interrupted. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
I felt even more awkward having guessed which photographs Jemma must have shown him. They were doubtless the set I’d sent her from the company Christmas ball and Ben was right, I had
looked sleek and sophisticated. My hair was smooth and straight, my nails polished and my elegant jade dress and matching Jimmy Choos, which had carried a jaw-dropping price tag, immaculate.
‘Well, I’m back to my old self now,’ I shrugged, tucking my hair behind my ears and desperately trying not to think about anything that was connected to Giles.
‘Good,’ Ben nodded. His expression was deadly serious as he took in my sloppy pj’s and dishevelled curls. ‘It never works, does it? I’ve discovered that for myself
recently.’ His tone was suddenly bitter and sounded far less friendly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Trying to pretend to be someone you’re not. It never turns out how you think it will. There’s a time limit on pretending. It simply isn’t possible to live a lie for
long.’
I opened my mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words. I was only just beginning to come to terms with how much Giles had changed me and my appearance during the course of our
relationship and I certainly didn’t need someone I barely knew nudging me to think about all the reasons as to why he might have done it.
‘I’m going for a shower,’ I mumbled, quickly slipping out of the room
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