April 10th, 1989
Just got back to Ben’s after a really great day and evening together, that all began with a phone call.
“Hello?” I croaked.
I hadn’t expected it to be Ben. “Oh, hello.”
“Hope it’s not too early to ring, I couldn’t wait any longer.” I didn’t respond. “Are you there?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“What would you like to do today?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up,” I said, yawning.
“Do you fancy going to London?”
“Oh, that sounds good. On the train?”
“No, I was thinking we could drive.”
“There’s no way I’m ready to drive to London.” Just the thought of it elevated my heart rate.
“I’ll drive,” Ben stated. Ah, music to my ears.
“Ok. I’ll be over in an hour.”
“Perfect. I love you babe.”
“I love you too.”
The parking rate in London was astronomical but it was worth every penny. We had the most fantastic time walking all over and stopped in Covent Garden for lunch. Spent ages in The General Store then stocked up on my favourite banana hair conditioner from The Body Shop. Walking around hand in hand, Ben and I both agreed that living in London would be the ultimate and we discussed the possibility of doing so in the maybe not too distant future.
The drive home was easy (only because I wasn’t driving!) and didn’t take as long as we’d expected it to.
“Are you staying at mine tonight?” he asked.
“I’d like to.”
“I think you definitely should.”
“Ok, but let’s stop at mine first so I can tell my mum and dad what I’m doing.”
After we left my house, Ben asked if I was ready to go to his.
“It’s still not that late,” I said, getting in the car.
“I know, that’s why I’m asking. Are you hungry?” he asked.
“When am I not hungry?”
“What are you in the mood for eating?”
We looked at each other and broke into a fit of laughter.
“Hey, you stop that,” he said, slapping my thigh.
“You stop that,” I said, returning the gesture. He blew me a kiss.
“Popcorn,” I said.
“Yeah, let’s go to The Point and get a huge popcorn slathered in butter.”
“Are we seeing a film or just getting popcorn?”
“Dangerous Liaisons is playing.”
“Who’s in it?” he asked.
“Glenn Close. John Malkovich.”
Ben shrugged his shoulders and made a sound of disinterest.
Slowly, I said, “Michelle Pfeiffer.”
“Sold,” he said, laughing.
“Oh, and Uma Thurman.”
Smiling over at me, he said, “Let’s go and get you some popcorn.”