blogging careers and he on his football. We will be in Tuscany together soon.
Suddenly my head is in Big Fat Bloke’s armpit. Someone has scored. I must concentrate. I get quite good at the ‘upward punch in the air’ when a player does something well. My favourite is the ‘Polish waitress without a boyfriend’ sulk, when someone misses a pass. This is fun.
At half-time the big fat bloke goes to the loo. I try not to picture it. Cherub Man smiles at me. I check behind. I doubt he is smiling at the Cash ’n’ Curry fruit machine. He must be smiling at me. I grin back.
‘Where’s your boyfriend?’
‘Um, he’s not my boyfriend, he’s my minder. I call him the Beast II.’
He laughs!
‘No, I don’t have a boyfriend and I’ve only just met him.’
‘I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend.’
‘Well, I’m phenomenally funny and clever so I tend to intimidate most men.’ He laughs again! I beg myself not to speak again because I know I will cock it up. I’m trying desperately hard not to belch. I look at the screen and the half-time commentators. I must not look too keen.
‘Would you like a drink?’
She shoots, she scores.
‘Yes please, oh thank you. I think a white wine though, this beer makes me burp.’
I’m quickly introduced to his best friend’s brother, standing next to him. I mentally log him as a possible suitor for Julia, who needs cheering up after passing out in the taxi with the head-butt guy. Beast II returns. The match starts again. We become a little dysfunctional family, sulking, punching and groaning. The boys score again. This time I land in Cherub Man’s armpit. I love football.
The match ends and Cherub Man turns to me and smiles. I beam back.
‘Right, I’ve got to go back to work. I’m an editor. I work mad hours sometimes.’
I have two thoughts:
1)
He’s an editor. Blinding!
2)
He doesn’t want to take me immediately to Soho Square for some frottage. Bollocks
‘But I’ll be free in an hour or two if you fancy going for a late drink somewhere.’
‘Oh, I’ve got an audition tomorrow,’ I reply. ‘I really should have an early night.’
‘Um, I hope you don’t think I’m a pillock for saying this, but I really like you. The thing is, I’m moving to Australia next week.’
I feel as though someone has just suddenly flicked the power switch off. I realize that this was just a nice pointless moment without a future.
‘Oh wow! That’s great! How exciting, Australia’s an amazing place,’ I gush. Bloody Australia, everyone’s bloody well moving there.
‘I’m quite busy, but I’d really like to see you for a night before I go.’
I look at him. He winks at me. I realize that he just wants a quick shag. Simple naked wrestling as opposed to lazy mornings on a Tuscan beach trying to do a crossword before jumping naked into the sea and kissing. Sex would be good, I admit. But I know that one-night stands don’t make me happy. No. It has to be no. I’ve got rules and morals. I am a pioneer for women after all.
‘Cheeky fucker!’ I shout and give him my phone number. ‘No’ is sometimes a very hard word to say. I am as much of a pioneer for women as Linda McCartney was for lamb shank, I think as I watch him leave.
Beast II gives me a bestial hug goodbye. The pressure causes me to release a long, satisfying, hour-long held-in burp in his ear. Bliss. I think I feel the cavern floor shake slightly.
‘Good girl!’ he says with pride. ‘You even sound like my ex-wife now.’
Back in the flat I tiptoe into my room. I can hear moans of carnal pleasure coming from Simon’s room. I quite like hearing people enjoying each other. Not in an erotic way, just in a comforting way, although tonight it sounds from Ruth’s howls as though Simon has impaled her and she’s stuck. I creep into my room, trying not to disturb them. Suddenly I feel something hard bash me on the forehead. I sway for a moment. And then I pass
Alexandra Amor
The Duke Next Door
John Wilcox
Clarence Major
David Perlmutter M. D., Alberto Villoldo Ph.d.
Susan Wiggs
Vicki Myron
Mack Maloney
Stephen L. Antczak, James C. Bassett
Unknown