February 23rd, 1992

February 23rd, 1992

At home, England

Tomorrow morning, when I board the flight to Boston, I’ll probably regret having had so much to drink tonight but as the saying goes; “Live and let live!”

Absolutely fabulous night here at home, thanks to Mum and Dad who arranged for everyone to come and celebrate my last night here as a single girl! Fresh from the most incredible trip to Kenya, I don’t know how Mum mustered the energy to shop and cook. I wasn’t supposed to know about the party, so I couldn’t offer any help! Dad did a brilliant job keeping everyone plied with booze and music that kept us on our feet most of the night.

I probably shouldn’t write any of this next bit but I feel I need to, if only to get it off my chest. I was shocked to hear Ben’s voice on the other end of the phone this morning. “I wanted to catch you,” he said, “before you jet off to Disney.” Hearing that immediately got me riled up and I knew I should hang up but I didn’t.

“Don’t be obnoxious,” I said. “I’m not going to Disney!”

“Disney. America,” he huffed. “Isn’t it all the same?”

Mum came home just as I was leaving and as usual she asked where I was going. I muttered something about getting some last-minute things to take to the States. I didn’t want to lie, nor could I tell her the truth, so I just sort of left it at that.

I drove to Willen Lake, where I’d arranged to meet Ben so we could, “Go for a walk and talk about stuff.” All the way there my stomach was churning from a mixture of guilt, excitement, nerves and who knows what else.

By the time I pulled into the parking lot I’d worked myself in a right old state and my hands were shaking. Gripping the wheel, I uttered; “I shouldn’t be here,” over and over again, before hesitantly and slowly reversing out of the parking spot, all the while half hoping Ben would show up, forcing me to stay.

Halfway home, I thought about going back but I knew the consequences of my reckless behaviour could be dire. Not necessarily for me.

 

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