Page 60 of Wish You Were Here
‘Because you love her. You’re in love with Saskia. Case closed. I solved it!’ says Hugh.
‘There would be no case at all without you and your big mouth,’ says Poppy.
‘Sorry about that again, old boy,’ says Hugh.
‘It’s fine, Hugh. I had to tell her at some point,’ I reply.
‘I still don’t understand,’ says Abigail. ‘You’re with Jemma, you really like Jemma, and I get that you and Saskia are close, but is she worth ruining your relationship with Jemma over? Is she that important to you?’
I suppose this is the crux of the issue. My relationship with Jemma is great, and I can see us together long-term, but this thing with Saskia is important too. It’s like I can’t completely let go of Saskia because then it is admitting that there is no chance of us being together. I suppose I’m just not there yet. But I should be, right? If I truly do see a serious relationship with Jemma unfolding, then surely, I have to let Saskia go. When Jemma put me on the spot at the flat, I crumbled and told her I wouldn’t FaceTime with Saskia again, but in the cold light of morning, I’m just not sure that I can.
‘The honest answer is, I don’t know. It’s like on one hand, I realise there is no chance of Saskia and I being together, but on the other, not having her in my life at all feels impossible.’
‘Question eighteen!’ says Ricky, his voice booming over the pub. ‘What planet is closest to the Earth? I’ll repeat that—’
‘It’s Mercury!’ says Hugh quickly and quietly.
‘Are you sure, because I thought it was Venus,’ says Abigail.
‘Oh, right, yes, it might be Venus, actually,’ replies Hugh.
‘Which one?’ asks Poppy, pen at the ready.
‘I think Abigail is right. Let’s go with Venus,’ says Hugh. ‘Or Mercury.’
‘I’m going with Venus,’ says Poppy, writing it down. ‘So, Ben, remember when we had the intervention?’
‘Difficult to forget. It’s not every day your family and friends get together to demand you dump your girlfriend.’
‘Exactly,’ says Poppy. ‘Because you wouldn’t have done it on your own. Don’t you see, the problem lies with you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You can’t let go of things. You hold on to them even when they aren’t good for you,’ says Poppy. ‘Hence why you can’t stop FaceTiming with Saskia, and we had to have the intervention to make you break up with Saffy. You’re inflicted with an acute case of buyer’s remorse. What if I choose this person, but then someone better comes along? What if I break up with this person but actually, they were the best I could do? You constantly second-guess yourself, which is why you’re still single, unable to commit and afraid of losing Saskia, just in case she isThe One. You’ve always been the same.’
As soon as she finishes, everyone at the table claps and says, well done, Poppy, first-class analysis of Ben’s shortcomings as a human being. The question is though: Is it true? Do I have a constant case of buyer’s remorse when it comes to love?
I have to go back to my first girlfriend, Hannah Doyle, aged sixteen. Hannah and I started dating, and for six months we rode the rollercoaster of teenage passion and desire, before things unravelled. She was doing her Duke of Edinburgh awards, and she ended up cheating on me with a boy named Gavin. She confessed they had bonded during orienteering, one thing led to another, and before long they had forgotten about their compasses and the only navigation they were interested in was the way into each other’s underpants. The thing is, when she confessed, I forgave her and said we should keep going out. It lasted barely a month before she cheated on me again at a laser tag in High Wycombe.
At university, before Jemma, I dated a girl called Natalie Hartman, and she was a brilliant girlfriend. She was kind, fun, attractive and pretty much everything I wanted in a girlfriend at that point in life, but I ended up breaking up with her because I was worried it was too good. I wasn’t ready to settle down with her because it was only the first term at university, and what if the love of my life was out there and I missed her because I wasalready with Natalie? Natalie was devastated when we broke up, but I couldn’t be tied down at such a young age.
As it turned out, six months later I started dating Jemma, and we dated for two years. Jemma and I were great together. She was the perfect mixture of beautiful, smart, funny, but she was also independent, strong-willed and had things in life she wanted to achieve beyond us. Perhaps in a way it was the perfect university relationship because we were happy together, but also knew it had an expiration date. It allowed me to let her go without remorse because we knew it wasn’t going to last due to our conflicting post-graduation plans.
During my twenties, I had a series of firework flings – starts off with a loud bang, some fizzing explosion, before you’re ultimately a bit disappointed – and then there was Saffy. When I look back on my dating life, it has pretty much been a disaster on many fronts, and maybe Poppy is right. I am destined to end up single and alone because I am never satisfied, always looking for something else when what I have is great, or completely invested in the wrong person, convinced that maybe they’reThe One. My judgement when it comes to women is about as far off as Hannah’s compass during orienteering – she and Gavin both failed the orienteering portion of their Duke of Edinburgh awards, which felt like some sort of karma.
‘Question nineteen!’ says Ricky, taking a long pull of his pint. He’s on beer number five and has been drinking quickly. ‘In what year did Tony Blair become Prime Minister?’
‘Nineteen ninety-six?’ says Will, but he doesn’t seem sure.
‘Ninety-eight?’ says Abigail.
‘We need to work backwards to get the right year,’ says Hugh. ‘General elections are held every five years, and we just had one in two-thousand and twenty-four, which means it should have been in either ninety-nine or ninety-four.’
‘I don’t think it was ninety-four,’ says Poppy. ‘That seems too early, right?’
‘I think it was ninety-seven,’ I chip in.
‘Why? Disclose your sources!’ says Poppy.
