Page 153 of Easy
My needs. Why must it always come back to kink?
‘And if you bump into me on the street, do me a favour? Don’t call me that.’
‘What? Master Dan?’
‘That’s not who I am. I don’t need anom de guerre.’
‘I was only taking the piss. But name or not, you are what you are. You can’t hide from it.’
‘I was only ever that person with Belle.’
‘So you’re done with kink? With holding your lover’s heartbeat in your hand? Done with pretty red arses and girls tied up with string?’
‘All right, Julie Andrews,’ I say as the waitress returns. ‘You’ve made your point.’ I take the proffered cup, inhaling the dark cloud of bitterness.
‘They’d definitely be on the list ofmyfavourite things. Anyway, who is she?’
‘A woman I met.’
‘Here?’
‘No.’
‘While you were looking for new premises?’
‘Finally, the reason we’re here! Work shit. Let’s discuss the place in Manchester you mentioned last.’
‘No, it doesn’t suit your needs. I’ve already told you. Too close to residential land. And the parking is shite. Did you meet her at one of the parties you were gonna give a try? Kill Kitty? Torture Terrace?’
‘No.’ I’d planned on attending some very specific kinds of parties. Call them competition. I hadn’t. Because Louise had happened.
‘It’s like getting blood out of fucking stone,’ Kit complains in a frustrated undertone. ‘So you met her at the supermarket, then? Because Christ knows you do nothing outside this club. Unless it involves looking after Hal. Was there that spark of electricity when your hands touched over the last microwave meal? Was it love at frozen carbonara?’
‘You’re a nasty fucker, you know.’
‘Aye, I do know.’ As though struck by divine inspiration, he slaps a sudden hand to his head. ‘It’s not one of the divorced yummy mummies from Hal’s school, is it?’ Such a ridiculous sentence to come out of this man’s mouth. ‘If it is, Belle will probably end you both!’
‘She’s American,’ I say quite suddenly. ‘A little younger. And she knows nothing about any of this.’ I open my palms, indicating the space around us. The Den, the lifestyle, anything.
‘How can that be?’ His expression then morphs to one of knowing. ‘Too busy fucking?’
‘It’s not like that. I like her,’ I begin tentatively. ‘I really like her.’
‘So what’s the problem?’ he asks, not without frustration.
‘Honestly? I’ve no idea what she thinks of me, beyond how I fuck her.’
‘I’m guessing that’s hard and often,’ he deadpans. ‘Which says she might not be opposed to all this.’ He mirrors my earlier action, opening his hands to indicate the space around us. ‘You’re a complete bellend. What happened to the immortal line,spare the rod, spoil the sub?’
‘She’s not my sub.’
‘Sounds like she isn’t your anything at the minute.’
‘Fuck you.’ There’s no malice in the words, though his assertions stings.
‘Take a ticket and get in line. I’ll see if I can fit you in. Look,’ he adds, seriously, ‘The longer you leave it—’
‘Don’t you fucking think I know that already? But it’s more than that. It’s like she doesn’t want to know. What kind of woman doesn’t even ask what the man they’re screwing does for a living? She’s closed off and new to all this. I just don’t know. Maybe she’s only in it for sex.’
