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I’m starting to realize I’ve been wrong about a lot of things, actually.
“Hiya, love,” says the man in the passenger seat, turning to grin at me. “Hope we didnae give ye too much o’ a fright back there. Ben said ye’d love it.”
I am definitely not wrong about these guysnotbeing gangsters, though.
And I’m starting to think I’m not being kidnapped, either.
“Ben?” I say, turning to him. “Would you like to explain what’s going on here?”
My heart rate has slowed down slightly now that I no longer seem to be in imminent danger, but this still comes out sounding much less menacing than I was going for. More like a squeak than a snarl, really. Ben grins again.
“Well, it’s a grand gesture,” he says, in astating-the-obvioustone. “Like in those books you’re always reading. And in the movies.”
“A… a grand gesture? You’re seriously telling me that kidnapping me from my friend’s house is your idea of a ‘grand gesture’? Are you kidding me?”
“No, no,” insists Ben, “I told you, I’m notkidnappingyou. I was justsurprisingyou. So I could tell you—”
“Surprisingme?” Okay,nowI’m starting to sound menacing. Better late than never. “How did you even know where to find me?”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing; and judging by the look of confusion on his face, Ben can’t either. I have a feeling this conversation isn’t going quite the way he expected it to, somehow.
“Your mum told me,” he says, sounding hurt. “Well, she said you were with McTavish, anyway, so I assumed you’d be at his house.”
“So you just got your… your… whatever these guys are supposed to be,” I say, shooting a look at Colin and Rory in the front, “to drive over and… andsnatchme? Are you actuallyinsane?”
I’ve gone full circle now, from ‘hysterical’ to ‘menacing’, and now we’re right back at ‘hysterical’ again.
“It was supposed to be romantic,” says Ben, in a hurt tone. “You always used to say you wished I was more romantic, didn’t you? So I decided to sweep you off your feet and whisk you away. I’ve got a picnic set up on the beach; that’s where Rory’s taking us now. There’s champagne and everything. Well, Cava. Things are still a bit tight, to be honest. But come on, Emerald: you must see why I’m doing this?”
“Because you’re an absolute numpty?” I reply acidly, Mum’s favorite insult coming in handy for once. “Who apparently has a lot of trouble figuring out when he’s not wanted? Excuse me,” I add, leaning forward to tap Colin, or Rory, or whichever one it is, on the shoulder. “Could you take me back to the farm, please? Or just drop me off here, if it’s easier, and I’ll walk back.”
The car starts to slow down, and Ben grabs my hand again in a panic.
“Emerald, please just give me a chance,” he says. “Rory, keep going. I need to say this.”
The car speeds up again. “Would ye make up yer mind?” I hear Rory mutter from the front. “I’m no’ a taxi.”
“Emerald, I still love you,” says Ben desperately, turning back to me. “You know that. I wanted to tell you this on the beach, but I guess I’ll say it now. I know I haven’t gone about it the right way — I haven’t gone about anything the right way, really — but you didn’t give me much of a chance, did you? You wouldn’t even talk to me the last time I saw you: you just ran off after Jack, and left me standing there like… well, like a numpty, if that’s what you want to call me.”
He pauses for breath, and I stare at him incredulously.
“Was that supposed to be ‘romantic’, then?” I ask. “A quick, ‘I still love you’, followed by a nice little bit of gaslighting where you try to convince me it’smyfault you’ve been forced to bundle me into a car and drive off with me to God knows where?”
“It’s a grand gesture, I told you,” he says sullenly. “And I’m taking you to the beach, like I said, so youdoknow where. I know it’s not as good as ahelicopter, but—”
“Right,” I say, realization dawning. “You saw Jack arrive in a helicopter the other day, and you thought you’d one-up him with a kidnapping attempt. Nice one, Ben. Not exactly up there with Richard Gere climbing the fire escape inPretty Woman, is it? And I hate to break it to you, but Jack wasn’t even there for me, so you’re competing with no one but yourself. And you’re still losing.”
Ben looks hurt.
“I don’t know what you mean about Richard Gere,” he says stiffly, “But I’m not just doing this to compete with Jack. I’m not like that.”
“You’re exactly like that,” I retort. “Remember the time you sold the coffee table on Facebook because you’d bought a new one, then you called the guy who’d bought it to ask for it back?”
“That was just common sense,” insists Ben. “It’s sensible to have a spare, just in case—”
“You just couldn’t stand the thought of someone else having something you thought was yours,” I interrupt. “And just in case the analogy isn’t obvious enough, Ben, I’m talking aboutme, here.I’mthe coffee table.”
“You’re not a coffee table, Emerald,” Ben says desperately, his eyes wild as he starts to see his chances of pulling this thing off slipping away from him. “I swear to you, I have never seen you as a coffee table.”
