Page 108 of Easy
‘I never mix business and pleasure.’
She sends me a look that suggests I’ve no idea what pleasure is.
‘Sweetie, I find there are few things you can be certain of in life. But, in my experience, three things never lie.’ She begins to count off the items on her left hand. ‘Drunk people, small children, and leggings.’
‘Thank you, Flora. Why, that clears up everything!’ She can be so abstract at times.
‘Last night,’ she begins solemnly, ‘you said you didn’t want him. You’d said you needed him. If that’s not repression, then I’ve no idea what is.’
‘I did not.’
‘You mumbled something else about a bucket list. God knows what,’ she adds with shrug.
‘My bucket list? I’m only twenty-sex—six.’ Lord. ‘I’m only twenty-six, I mean.’
‘I know exactly what you mean.’
Ignoring her, I carry on. ‘At this age, a bucket list is a bunch of vague notions of places I’d like to visit... things I’d like to do.’
‘Then I guess you can check off doing a sexy stranger. That man is hot. I like this new Louise,’ Flo asserts. ‘She should get laid more often. Emotional outbursts suit her.’
‘No,’ I reply quietly. ‘I’ve told you. Being in London isn’t about those kinds of experiences.’ Truthfully, I’ve been hit on plenty since I’d arrived from the States. I’d just promised myself I wouldn’t fuck, get involved, or any of that stuff.
I want culture, experience, and perhaps a promotion. Last night, I strayed from the path I’d set for myself.
Flo sighs. ‘You’ll have the memories. Good ones, I hope?’
Was he good? My bodily aches tell their own tale.
‘That was a hint, by the way. You Americans are so literal.’
‘Iliterallydon’t know what to say.’
‘I know he was a good lay. Your turn. And don’t spare the detail.’
Elbows on the table, she cups her cheeks in her hands. Meanwhile, my latte turns sour in the pit of my gut. She knows he was good in bed? Does that mean she’s had first-hand experience? I can share breakfast but not my men.Or proclivities, I think more frighteningly.
‘What do you meanyou know he was good?’ I ask casually.
‘Because, not moments ago, I was recounting some hilarious tale, and you were somewhere else—staring off into the distance. There wasn’t even a flicker of recognition as I told you I’d recently taken part in an orgy at the local rugby club. I told you I’d screwed the entire team. Then both of them—home and away! You were totally zoned out. Face it, you’re still fuck drunk, Louise.’
My relief is swift as I grab my cup, grimacing at the taste of cold coffee.
‘I imagine your vagina has had a thorough seeing to.’
‘And it’s now closed!’ The cup clatters against the saucer as I duck my head.
‘He was that good?’ replies a laughing Flora, her hand gesture the universal sign for “too hot to touch”.
‘I mean the topic of my sex life is closed!’
The next hour passes without further comment on last night, though I sense Flo is just biding her time. I’ve never spoken to her about my past, not that I’ve much to tell, but this morning’s breakfast seems to have signalled to her that things are about to change. I’m sure she isn’t done with her interrogation.
As we walk home, the familiarity of the area surprises me. It seems my stranger and I live in the same borough. The realisation causes me a disconcerting thrill, especially as new memories and sensations continue to arise.
Last night, after he’d led me into his house, things had seemed stilted and awkward for a few minutes, at least from my side. Somehow, we’d begun a silly word game, and I’m not sure if we’d gotten off track, or if he’d meant things to happen as they did because not long after, he’d led me upstairs.
The Night Before
