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“That was amazing!” Hero enthused as they exited the theatre amongst a bustling crowd, all buzzing from the experience they had just shared. “I know everyone always says he was a genius but, I mean, he really was, wasn’t he?”
The night was cold but dry and none of them had thoughts of heading back to the hostel yet. They came out onto the south bank and wandered over to the railings overlooking the gloomy Thames that silently rushed past beneath them.
Leaning back, Benedick looked up at the Globe Theatre. “I can’t get over that it was written so long ago! It was hilarious! It could have been set nowadays! It’s so, like, relevant or timeless, isn’t it?”
“I liked the women,” Pedro said.
“Dude,” Balthazar smirked. “Um, I’m right here.”
Pedro gave him a look. “Ha ha. But I seriously think he did a better job of writing real, well-rounded, intelligent women than most screenwriters today.”
“Yes!” Beatrice passionately agreed. “Exactly!”
Pedro was being nudged by Balthazar.
“They’re still there…” Balthazar muttered, indicating to a couple busking nearby.
“Go on then!” Pedro said. “Do you want me to -”
“Nah, nah… I can…” Balthazar smiled and walked over to them.
“He said he’d talk to them if they were still here after,” Pedro explained to the others. “He likes their music. He wanted to ask about their looping kit and busking and stuff.”
The buskers were a man and a woman both dressed in tight black clothes and with long brown hair. The woman played an acoustic guitar and the man sang.
“Is Balthy going to busk?” Beatrice asked. “Because I’m not going to lie, that would be amazing.”
Hero agreed enthusiastically, still not over the excitement from the play they’d just seen. “We’d just camp out with him all day and cheer inappropriately.”
“You mean you’d be his groupies?” Pedro suggested.
“Ooohh, jealous?”
Pedro's laugh was offensively loud.
“Hey!”
“Check out Balthazar just chatting to random strangers though!” Benedick pointed out. “I reckon the resolution to talk to new people has actually done some good!”
“Ok, ok,” Pedro said dismissively. “Balthazar could talk to strangers before. I think we’re all most happy about the results of your resolution, Ben. I know that I didn’t expect you two to actually get together just because you couldn’t be snarky to her but -”
“WOAH!” Beatrice yelled. “Woah! Who said that we were together?”
Benedick looked equally indignant and Hero laughed at them both. “You were holding hands literally two minutes ago!”
“We were not,” Beatrice staunchly denied.
“Our hands must have somehow got tangled in the crowd.”
“I was holding on so as… not to get lost…” Beatrice wasn’t even convincing herself with that argument.
But Hero and Pedro just shook their heads and gave each other exasperated looks.
“My resolution wasn’t the best,” Hero said. “I gained nothing from complaining more.”
“Ohh!” Benedick laughed. “Complaining about complaining, are we?”
“Well, I’ve decided that I’m going to complain the exact amount that I feel is appropriate and everyone will have to deal with that, thank you very much,” Hero declared.
This declaration was met with smiles and Beatrice put her arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “I’m sure we can cope with however much complaining you decide to throw our way.”
“I’m freezing.” Benedick stamped his feet to illustrate the point. “I’m going to get Balth – Oh, no he’s coming back.”
Balthazar rejoined the group with a pleased grin on his face. “Got their emails.”
They began to walk down past the Tate Modern and up the steps to the Millennium Bridge – or ‘the Bridge of Fate’ as it was later known amongst the friends.
For those unfamiliar, the Millennium Bridge is the steel, almost skeletal pedestrian suspension bridge that got all twisted up by the Death Eaters in that Harry Potter film. (And if you still don’t know what I’m talking about then I’m really beginning to wonder what you’re doing with your life.) But at this time it was perfectly stable and affording a fantastic view of London lit up and thriving.
Pedro and Balthazar were walking hand in hand, talking excitedly to each other, probably about busking. Hero was busy with her camera and Benedick really wanted to be walking hand in hand with Beatrice. Really wanted to.
In his heart of hearts of course Benedick knew that he’d always liked Beatrice. It had freaked him out and then Beatrice had started to be so mean all the time and that had made it easier for him to ignore. But he didn’t want to ignore it anymore. He liked having Beatrice as his confidant and as his support. He liked holding her hand. Benedick knew he had to get her to confess that she felt the same…
The solution was so simple. “Hey, your resolution!” Benedick said out of nowhere.
Beatrice glanced blankly at him. “Yeah?”
“You have to agree to do anything!”
“I’ve definitely been fortunate about the sorts of things that people have asked me to do on this trip. It could have gotten -”
“WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?”
Beatrice stopped walking and looked around to check that no one else was listening. Then she said, “Shout a bit louder, why don’t you? I don’t think they heard you back in New Zealand.”
Benedick wore an almost manic grin on his face. “You have to say ‘yes’.”
“You don’t want a girlfriend.”
“You have to say yes.” He stepped forwards and took her hands, sliding his fingers between hers.
“What happened to being a ‘free spirit’?”
“I was young! I was blind! You have to say yes!”
“You’re so ridiculous…”
“Please, can I kiss you?”
Beatrice considered him with a flushed smile on her face. “… Yes.”
Benedick put one hand on Beatrice’s cheek and leaned in towards her with only the smallest amount of trepidation. The second that their cold lips touched, there was no doubt in either of their minds that yes, this was it, the right thing to be doing. A deep tremor ran through Benedick’s body and as Beatrice tugged him closer, ignoring the wolf whistling from Pedro. There’s nothing and no one in the whole world I like as much as you, Benedick thought loudly.
There was a little moment of awkwardness when they broke apart again. Then Benedick looked around him and acknowledged how the smooth arches of the bridge were lit over the dark river. “This is quite romantic considering how much we suck at romance.”
Beatrice feigned offence. “Excuse me! I’m as romantic as a rose, I’ll have you know.”
“You’re as thorny as a rose.”
“You’re like the shit that helps the beautiful rose to grow.”
“So romantic.” And Benedick kissed her again, still a little amazed that this was a thing that Beatrice was doing, still a little blown away by the feel of her lips and the smell of her perfume. He jerked away suddenly. “Wait, you do actually like me, right?”
Beatrice rolled her eyes and sighed with a smile on her face. “You are an incredible dork.”
“That means ‘yes’, right?”
“Yup.”
Maybe it was because of their resolutions or it was inevitable after being stuck together for so long, or maybe an Elizabethan playwright inspired them. Either way, what it felt like to Benedick was that a piece that he didn’t even know was missing had finally slotted into place. And by the time they’d traversed London back to their hostel, they hand holding like pros and if anyone had asked he’d probably have told them they’d been together for years.