Out Of The Mouths Of Babes

Nineteen

Nineteen

 It was precisely eleven twenty when Ben arrived home. His high hopes were dashed briefly at the sight of the house in darkness. Ah, he thought to himself. I expect she’s waiting for me upstairs. His imagination lunged into overdrive as he threw off his jacket and darted up the stairs. He pushed open the bedroom door and crept inside. “Honey, I’m home,” he sang softly. Amy shuffled around a bit but said nothing. As the realisation crept over him that she was actually asleep he began to feel somewhat miffed. “Bleeding typical,” he muttered to himself. “I may as well have gone to the club with Steve.” He undressed and climbed into bed, rousing Amy a little as he did so. She muttered something inarticulate and snuggled up to him. He wrapped his arms around her, his agitation seeping away as he felt her warm breath on his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“What time is it?” she mumbled.

“About eleven thirty,” he replied hopefully. Maybe he would receive his reward after all.

“Uh, night, Ben,” she murmured.

He snuggled closer and wove his arms around her curled body - surely, it was worth one last attempt. It wasn’t. She turned over, and with a tiny grunt, shrugged his arm away, thwarting his last hopes.

 It was quarter to three in the morning when the phone rang. Amy reached out and grabbed it, having no idea of the time. “Hello?” she croaked sleepily.

“Hi, Amy. I’m so sorry to call you at this time of night, but I was just wondering if Ben’s home yet?”

“Amy glanced at the clock. He’s been back hours. Is Steve not home?”

“Hours!” Amanda repeated. “Where the hell is he?”

Just then, Ben’s mobile beeped. Having been awoken by the phone, he was listening to Amy’s conversation and quickly grabbed his phone. As he expected - a text from Steve.

“No. Ben hasn’t said anything at all. I’ll…” Ben nudged her. “Hold on a sec, Mand.” She turned to him. “Where was Steve when you left…”

“He’s downstairs,” Ben whispered.

“What? Why is he?”

“Amy, what’s he saying?” Amanda asked.

“Er, he said he’s downstairs.”

“Your downstairs? Why?”

“Good question. Ben, what’s going on? Why’s he downstairs?”

“We er… got a cab back together. It was meant to drop me off and then take Steve home, but just as I was getting out… he, er, he started gagging like he was going to throw up. So the driver told him to get out. Didn’t want him chucking up in the cab, I suppose.” Amy looked unconvinced as he went on. “I was going to phone another cab when we got in, but he conked out on the settee and I didn’t fancy my chances at trying to wake him and get him into a cab.”

“Did you get all that?” Amy said into the phone, glaring at Ben.

“Yes, I did. Well, at least we know he’s okay. But you’d think Ben would’ve called me. He must have known I’d be worried. I could have gone to bed hours ago.”

“Yes, that’s precisely what I was thinking. I’m so sorry, Mand. We’ll get him back to you first thing,” she promised.

“No rush,” Amanda said dryly. “In fact, keep him if you like. I’m only going to throttle him when he gets back, anyway.”

Amy put the phone down, still glaring at Ben. “He’s not downstairs at all, is he?”

“I don’t know where he is,” Ben said, holding his hands up in defence. “He’s just sent me a text asking me to tell Amanda, if she rings, that he’s here.”