The unattended bags of shopping provide a distraction and Jasmine stands. She starts unloading items, putting the oat milk in the fridge before she turns to face him. “No. He doesn’t need to know about Ben.” She has never been so grateful for her sanitised social media. From sixteen years old, she had been determined to make a career in politics. Aware of the amount of scrutiny she could expect if she was successful, she had been careful to screen out all but the most innocuous details of her personal life from her posts. Even though Ben had become the focus of her world, anyone looking at her social media would hardly realise he existed, aside from the sheer number of Labour Club photos in which he featured.
“Petey’s dying,” she reiterates. “He doesn’t need me to break his heart any more than I already have.”
Sean sits back in his chair and puts his head on his hands. “So, what are you going to do?”
“What can I do?” Jasmine has spent the last hour thinking about precisely this. She halts the unpacking to look directly at Sean. “A terminally ill friend has asked me for a favour. And not just any friend. One I loved.” She corrects herself. “Stilllove.” Just because she now loves Ben more doesn’t mean she loves Petey less. “I have to go.” At Sean’s look, she continues. “Thereisno one else. His mother is struggling with her own grief. His sister has to go back to the army. His father hasn’t been around since he was a baby.” She holds back from saying that even if Petey had been surrounded by loved ones, she would still want to be there. She still cares for him deeply, just as she cares for Sean. And if this were Sean’s diagnosis, she would do the same for him.
“Did you tell him that?”
She chews at her lips and then confesses, “I told him I needed to think about it.”
“And have you thought about it? What happens to your degree? What happens to Ben?”
“Of course I have. Either I can take some time off from my degree or I can do it remotely. I’ve cracked the back of my dissertation and most of the lectures are videoed, anyway. And Petey won’t always need me. I think I can manage to fit it all in. The thought of coming back to finish my degree after all of you have left is just too depressing to contemplate. I’ll make it work.”
“And Ben?”
“I’ve already told Petey if I come back, it won’t be as his girlfriend but as his friend. Ben will understand.” Jasmine holds out the new packet of chocolate-chip cookies as a diversion.
“Will he? Are you sure about that?” Sean stares at her hard. “Because I’m not sure he will.”
“Of course he will.” Jasmine brushes off his caution. She is fairly certain her assertion is true. There is very little the two of them disagree on. Mostly, they are of the same mind. She has a slight reprieve before she has to tell him, as Ben is clubbing with his year-out friends tonight. He is sleeping at his place because they will only get in late. It means she has an entire day to work out how to present the whole thing in the best light, to rehearse her arguments if he should need convincing. But really, she thinks it is a matter of trust. Ben will trust her judgement that what she proposes is necessary and trust her character that she will not do anything inappropriate with her ex.
The following morning, after a fitful night’s sleep and before she has even eaten breakfast, Jasmine emails her tutor, dissertation supervisor, and course head to arrange meetings with each. By lunchtime, she already has dispensation to pursue her studies remotely. Although she was disingenuous enough to omit the break-up in the summer and to emphasise the length of time she had been with Petey. Her tutor, whose wife had just fought her own battle with breast cancer, is more than supportive and has offered to help in any way he can.
Lunch, Jasmine reasons, is also long enough to leave the hungover to lie-in, but still, she is inexplicably nervous as she stands on Ben’s doorstep. She tries to calm herself because she knows what she is doing is right and for as long as Jasmine can remember, she has always done what is right. Passing notes in class was wrong; eating the last of her mother’s cherished chocolates was wrong; harming animals unnecessarily was wrong. In all these cases she had never hesitated to act to make things right: handing notes to the teacher; informing her mother of her sisters’ misdemeanours; excising everything within her limited reach produced by the exploitation of animals. Unfortunately for Jasmine, the world tends to be unforgiving of the righteous and each time her reward had been to her detriment; the teacher had called her a telltale, her sisters had made her the target of endless pranks, and she had been jeered at by total strangers in cafés purely for the crime of being vegan.
Still, Jasmine persists in the path of righteousness.
But she is a little hesitant when she knocks on the front door to the little terraced house Ben shares with two other mates. She straightens her clothes while she waits for him to answer and tries to fix her features in a suitably upbeat expression. When Ben, clad only in his jockey shorts, opens the door it is to a maniacally grinning girlfriend.
“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” He smiles. “Or was your essay just too boring?” Then he sees the expression on her face. “Are you alright?” he asks, frown lines crinkling under his floppy black hair. Jasmine drops the grimace and nods.
“Neither,” she says. “And sort of. Listen, I need to talk to you.”
“That sounds ominous,” Ben says, but he steps back and opens the door wide. When she sees him head toward the communal kitchen area, Jasmine adds, “In private.”
She follows as he leads her up the stairs and for once, she is oblivious to the pertness of his buttocks and the breadth of his bare shoulders. When he enters the room, he reaches for the jeans hanging on the back of the chair and pulls them on. On some level, he realises he needs to be clothed for this conversation. He opens the wardrobe and grabs a T-shirt. When dressed, he takes the chair by his desk and Jasmine perches on the edge of his bed, facing him. “What’s going on?” he asks.
She studies her hands for a minute. Despite rehearsing this moment, now it comes to it, she struggles. “I have to go away for a while.”
“Why?” His eyebrows quirk up. “Where’re you going?”
She chooses to answer the last question first. “Home.”
“Is there something up with your family?” Concern tints his words. He tilts his head and tries to make eye contact, but Jasmine is looking down at his bare feet as she says,
“No. They’re fine.”
“Okay. So, why? I mean, term’s only just started.”
Jasmine finally looks up. “Petey came to see me yesterday.”
“Your ex?” Ben’s voice shows his confusion.
“He needs my help.”
“So? What?” Ben’s whole body stiffens and his eyes flash. “He calls and you come running?”
