Lyn looked me in the eyes, smiled lazily and then glanced away. I knew she was still seeking to tell me something but she wasn't quite sure how to begin. She brushed her long wavy hair away from her face as it slipped over her eyes and began her tale...
I met Ben during the first few weeks at college. He wasn't on my course or anything but he was in the Hall across the lawns from my residence and I'd noticed him a few times as we'd passed each other on the way to class or to the laundry building. He'd smile a little hesitantly and then we progressed to saying 'hi!' and so on until one day we ended up together at the laundry trying to sneak in when it was quiet to get our things washed. He clearly hadn't followed me as when I arrived his washload had already reached the spin cycle and I had no idea he was there either, but we were, for the first time, alone together. He said hello and, well, we introduced ourselves and discussed our courses and where our families came from and so on until Ben said: 'Fancy a coffee?'
'Sure', I replied. We went to Bennett's on the corner of Coney Road. And that was how it all started really. We went out for a drink the following Friday and then to the cinema to see some dreadful Estonian film which neither of us liked remotely but we stayed because I had chosen it and ... well, we stayed. We kissed for the first time on the walk home; I didn't know how you tell when you're in love [ I do now] and I didn't know if Ben was looking for something long-term or just some term-time fun. But I knew I wanted Ben to show me things I still didn't know and I knew that when he wanted those things that I would welcome it and encourage him. I felt confident he was really nice although at the same time I felt there was a side to him that I didn't know yet and that I needed to get to know. Not that he was holding back on me but rather he was nervous about letting me know things that might shatter what we had built up so far and which he obviously valued. As we both did.
I felt very comfortable with Ben from the beginning and I knew the physical side of our relationship was slowly expanding - we kissed, hugged, held hands. He put his hands on my bottom one day as we kissed and I pushed myself tightly up against him. I felt good and excited. He moved away after a few seconds and seemed just for a moment to avoid eye contact with me. I was puzzled but dismissed it thinking perhaps he was not much more experienced than I was...
oooooo0000oooooo
A couple of days later on a mild February afternoon we went for a walk along the river Calder. From the University main buildings you can walk about 4 miles upstream through woodlands and meadowland on a good, dry path. It was quiet, just a few ducks seemed to be shadowing us, maybe dreaming of wholemeal crusts that we hadn't thought to bring.
Every now and then we passed a wooden bench overlooking the river. The river banks had become rather overgrown recently and some of the benches looked onto vigorously growing stands of Himalayan balsam plants, or policemen's helmet as it's called locally. Children like to squeeze the seed heads and they explode in a twisting fashion in your hand and it almost feels like a little electric shock and you drop the seeds and spread the plant further upstream. In February just dead stalks impede the view. Elsewhere the benches themselves were rotting away or had been needlessly vandalized by bored local lads.
Ben saw ahead a bench that looked fine and gave us a nice view of the river as it curved its way around the village of Garston. The spire of St. Mary's could be seen in a hazy afternoon's winter mist a mile away. Ben pulled a small stainless steel flask from his grungy anorak pockets and a couple of somewhat crushed paper cups.
'I'm sorry you didn't bring the best china!' I said.
'Can't think of everything!' he said, but in a light-hearted sort of way. He then paused a moment, and started again but his tone seemed more serious and I wondered what was coming. Perhaps he wanted to let me down gently and tell me he'd met some other girl who had responded to him in a way that I didn't know how... I felt naive and a bit frightened. Not of Ben but of what was coming. He'd brought a flask, so he didn't want me to walk off nor did he intend to leave me sitting there stupidly holding a paper cup, or so I hoped.
'I need to tell you things', he said. 'I'll understand if you get up and walk off and never look at me again but I can't carry on being with you and enjoying the time we've had together unless I tell you about my home life and my family. I know you're going to be shocked and you'll need time to think things through or you'll tell me immediately you never want to see me again anywhere, any time.'
'Go on, then', I said. I was thinking his dad's a murderer in gaol somewhere, his mum's insane or something. My mind raced in confusion.
'My family lives in a way you won't understand', he said. 'It all started last summer. Clare, my sister was just eighteen, I was some way off my twentieth birthday and we went on holiday as usual to France. We usually went to a chalet complex on the French Atlantic coast - we'd been going to that area for years. Lots of people went topless on those beaches and mum always did. Clare had always worn a top and I had never seen her topless although I had begun to wonder what she was like as I suspected she had nice breasts from the way she now filled her costume.' Ben paused and looked up at me and blushed. I felt tense and unsure what to say. I wanted to know more as although I had never been topless on a beach I knew it was pretty normal even though my parents wouldn't have approved. I wasn't really shocked yet but I knew there was a lot more to come and didn't want Ben to stop before I had heard everything. Even if I couldn't handle what eventually he was going to say. I was excited in a way that was new to me and I imagined myself topless on that beach with Ben.' Go on, please, Ben', I said, very quietly.
'Well we'd only been there a couple of days and we'd soon realized, from all the amateurishly painted signs that there was a naturist beach about half a kilometer south of the beach we usually used. It was near a rather rocky stretch of the coast where the rocks offered a series of tiny inlets and miniature bays for the sun lovers. A lot of superbly tanned couples and groups, including families with kids of all ages, walked past. I had noticed Clare watching them go by.
[It was all thought out: I could tell Ben had spent a long time thinking about what he needed to say as at times it all came out in a rush as if he'd almost learnt some of it]
'On that day I forgot my CD player when we came down to the beach and it was pretty hot so I didn't feel like anything too strenuous even though there was a game of volleyball going on over by the sand dunes. I wandered back to the chalet for my player and a Frank Herbert paperback. I remember I was reading a lot of his books then.
I picked up what I'd come for and set off back towards the beach. When I got there everybody seemed to be either dozing or just lying there with their eyes closed. I said, rather obviously, 'I'm back.' I vaguely heard a couple of grunts and a 'Right' from someone. I flopped down between my mum and Clare who was about three feet away lying on her tummy. I started listening to a CD - no doubt something you wouldn't dream of putting on.'
'Can you remember what it was?' I asked.
'Oh, something like Blur or an early Oasis CD. I'm not sure. Do you like them?'
'No not really', I said a bit too sharply but then thought I didn't want to discourage him or sound like I was being cold towards him. I added: 'I haven't really got into music; with me it's been horses and ponies and stuff.' I laughed.
