'Why? It was ace.'

'I felt like I'd tapped a gla.s.s with a fork and gone "Excuse me everyone, announcement, I've got a thing for this girl the size of Old Trafford. Everyone clear on that? OK, good, carry on with your evenings, and it's advisable for all patrons not to approach her rack."'

'I didn't think that.'

'Well, Emily did. She said, that night: "I'm not finishing with you because you hit someone for her, I'm finishing with you because of the look I caught on your face when she was getting molested."'

'Really? G.o.d. Sorry.'

'Not your fault. I'd have beaten him to the ground if he'd been holding newborn twins. She knew it. I thought everyone knew it. Incredible you didn't.'

'Hah. I was stood further away. And being molested. Sorry again.'

He ran his hand up and down my arm.

'I've been dreading saying goodbye.'

'Me too.'

'I was going to say something to you tomorrow. At the ball.'

'You were?' I looked up at him. 'What were you going to say?'

'Just, this is how I feel, you should know in case it makes any difference. Script by Jack Daniel's. Shame by Calvin Klein.'

'Shame?'

'I didn't know you'd be single, did I? The fact you weren't is all that's held me back from making a fool of myself for three years. It was my last chance and I was going to make an exception.'

I squeezed him again.

'I had no idea. Your fantastical carousel of gorgeous girlfriends looked nothing like me. Mostly blondes. Confident blondes at that.'

'Why the h.e.l.l would I want to be with girls that reminded me of you if I couldn't have you?'

He said this so starkly that I got a guilt pang greater than the ego boost. Ennui outside curry houses aside, I hadn't sensed our relationship causing him any pain.

'Sorry if I'm being a bit full on,' he said. 'I've been hoping against hope for three years. I don't quite believe this is real.'

'That felt pretty real to me.' For once, Ben didn't laugh at my flippancy.

We lay in silence. I wanted to say extravagant things about how great I thought Ben was, how great that was, but while my mind was flooded, it was also blank. I was still busy feeling rather than thinking. Ben loved me. I loved him. We'd made love. Paradigms had shifted and my pyjamas were on the floor.

'What now?' Ben asked.

'How d'you mean?'

'Do you want to keep seeing each other?'

'Are you kidding? Of course I do,' I said.

'You're going back to Sheffield to do this journalism course.'

'Yes.'

'And I'm out of the country for six months.'

'Yes.'

'You could fly out and meet us? In the holidays or whatever?' Ben asked.

'That sounds great. My local says they'll give me the job back though. I kind of need the money.'

'Your local? Rhys's regular?'

'Yes. But that doesn't matter.'

'I don't like the thought of it.'

Ben frowned. I could virtually hear his brow knit.

'Do you think I'm so easily swayed that if I pull his Stella from time to time, I'll end up going back out with him?' I said. 'Salted, dry roasted, or me?'

Ben didn't laugh.

'Thanks for the vote of confidence,' I said, mock-offended.

Joking aside, I felt us running at two different speeds. I was content to lie there in the post-coital haze and enjoy being close. He needed some answers, I hadn't started thinking about the questions.

'I can't cancel my travelling. The tickets are booked. I can't let Mark down, he'd be gutted.'

'I know. And you've wanted to go for so long, you have to go. I'm not asking you not to go.'

'I know,' Ben said, but rather darkly.

I lay there and tried to work out where we stood. He had a point. The next year or so was going to be tricky to navigate. It didn't seem as insurmountable to me as it did to him. The main thing was, we both knew how each other felt now. The miracle had happened. The rest was admin.

Ben reached down and touched my hand.

'Come away with me. Just do it. Delay your place on the course. Book the tickets.'

'I can't. For one thing, I can't afford it.'

'I'll pay. I've got savings.'

'I couldn't let you do that.'

'Yes, you can. What's mine is yours. A lend, if you'd feel better.'

'I bet Mark would love being gooseberry on his trip of a lifetime!' I laughed.

'Is that what you're bothered about? Mark's feelings? Or is this about yours?'

'Eh?'

'You're going to be doing lock-ins in the p.i.s.s Up & Parrot with Rhys while I'm in Kanchanaburi. When I get back, you'll be in college in the week and working at the weekends. How are we going to see each other?'

'I know it's going to be difficult but we'll get through it. Even if I had to wait a year to be with you properly, I'd do it.'

There was a long, long pause where I nearly checked to see he was still alive. I hoped he was absorbing the size of the intended compliment. He sat up.

'A year? You're honestly saying it's OK if we don't see each other much for the next year?'

'I didn't say it's OK, I said I'd wait. If that was what it took.'

'Do you really feel the same way about me as I do about you?'

'Yes, I do!'

'I've got to be honest, I don't even think you and Rhys are over. Sounded more like a lovers' tiff than a break-up.'

'Don't be crazy, Ben. If I wanted to be with Rhys instead, why am I in bed with you?'

'Were you going to say anything to me, before we left?'

'Uhm.' No. With huge, huge regret: no. For the first time in my life, I was confronting a character fail, with nowhere to hide. Yes, I was in love with him. No, I wasn't going to risk telling him, what with my presumption of near-certain failure of reciprocation. I was going to pretend to myself I didn't and let him go. I couldn't resolve this contradiction without it saying something about me. That, my friends, is a coward. 'I didn't plan anything, but ...'

'That's a no.'

'I didn't know you felt the same way!'

'How would you know until you ask?'

'I didn't want to risk losing you as a friend.'

'I think we both know that tomorrow would've been the end of things as we know it, either way.'

This was true, and I had no answer for Ben. How do you explain to someone so many degrees more brave and cool than you that such strength of feeling and total gutlessness can co-exist?

'Do you still love Rhys? You must do. It only ended today.'

'I don't know,' I said. 'You can't press an off switch. Whatever I feel, it doesn't mean I'm in love with him and want to be with him.'

Another long pause, where I worked out what to say next. I felt we'd mounted the kerb and some grabbing of the steering wheel was required to get us back on course. My policy of speaking the first words to come into my head hadn't been the charm so far.

'f.u.c.k!' Ben suddenly exclaimed.

He jumped from the bed as if he'd had a bolt gun to the backside. I experienced a moment's cognitive dissonance of bad thing happening/good view though. I realised he was looking for his clothes, pulling his underwear on with a snap of elastic, dragging his jeans up his legs.

'What's going on? Ben?' I sat up, not so confident in my nakedness now. I grabbed a pillow and held it against myself.

'I'm sorry but I've got to go,' he said, some words m.u.f.fled as he momentarily disappeared inside the neck of his t-shirt. 'I shouldn't have ... I couldn't turn you down. s.h.i.t-'

'Don't go! Ben? I don't understand! We'll work this out. I'll come travelling, if that's what you want ...'

He stopped, looked at me.

'It's not about you doing what I want. You've got to decide what you want, and not because uni's over and we're drunk and we've slept together and you've had a fight with Rhys. I feel too much for you for that. I have to go.'

'That's not why this has happened!'

He bent to pull his shoes on and straightened back up.

'You've done me and you're doing one?' I said, trying as a last ditch to appeal to the international code of the non-b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

'It's not like that. I can't make your mind up for you about what happens next. I know that's what you're used to.'

'What I want to happen next is for you not to leave.'

'I can't it's not your fault but I can't ...' he stopped and cleared his throat. '... Be this close with you, thinking it's a one-off.'

He grabbed at his wallet and keys on my desk and I watched in disbelief as he charged towards the bedroom door. I grabbed the sheet from the floor, wrapped it around myself like a short-a.r.s.ed Greek statue and gave chase. The time it took to pick it up lost me the time needed to catch up with him.

'Ben, please! Don't go!' I called, barrelling down the stairs.

He did go and I was left on the threshold of the house, calling his name.

I heard movement in Derek's room, and fled back upstairs, hyperventilating, trying to figure out how the h.e.l.l the best of times became the worst of times.

55.

I try to force my overloaded mind to take in the complexities of the drugs trial, making copious notes in an attempt to tether my wandering imagination to verifiable facts. When it breaks for a mid-afternoon conference between counsel, I head to the press room, only to have my path blocked by a pinker-round-the-edges-than-usual Gretton.

'Did you see her?'

'Who?'

'Clarke! She'd left a Dictaphone in the press room. Said she had to come and get things from her flat so she might as well pick it up. Bra.s.s b.a.l.l.s, I told you.'

Avoiding me wasn't worth the cost of a Dictaphone. You're a cla.s.s act, Zoe. I whip round and scan the court. The defendant's friends and family eye me suspiciously in return.