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Authors: Mike Hodges
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He listens for a moment. ‘I’m afraid the kitchen’s closed, madam. May I suggest a roll? Most guests compliment me on my salami special.’ He casts his eyes lustfully over the glossy pages clutched in his other hand.‘Good choice, madam. Room 13? One salami special coming up, madam.’
Replacing the receiver, he lets go a restrained yell of sexual bravura, while punching the air with his fist.
‘Right up, madam!’
And hastens to the kitchen.
As the night porter is swallowed by the swing doors, so the revolving one is activated. Mark and Ursula reappear in the foyer simultaneously. She takes his proffered arm and together they move regally towards the elegant staircase, pausing only for Mark to pluck a key from the unmanned desk.
He chooses Room 12.
* * *
Outside Room 13, a pair of women’s patent-leather boots await the attention of the hotel bootblack. Tall and black, they are erotic even when unoccupied. Mark’s eyes flicker with suppressed excitement as he opens up the room opposite. Ursula enters first, leaving him to close the door, but not before he shoots another furtive glance at Alice Honey’s enticing footwear.
* * *
The décor in Room 12 embraces the colour range of an old potato, matching perfectly the dark mood of its occupants. Ursula lies on the bed, listless and fully clothed,angry with herself for being there. Mark, meanwhile, is furiously going through his pockets.
‘Shit! I could have sworn I had a packet somewhere in this jacket.’
‘That’s it, then. Not so much coitus interruptus as coitus non-startibus .’
Mark stamps into the bathroom. ‘It’s always been the same with you.’
In his top pocket he finds a small toothbrush, which he waters and rubs vigorously into the soap. He contemplates himself in the mirror and calls out to her. ‘I have a question.’
‘So?’
‘Why won’t you go on the pill?’
‘Why won’t you have a vasectomy?’
Mark starts to brush his teeth and instantly foams at the mouth. He pauses to wonder if this is the outer manifestation of the inner madman.
Ursula calls from the bedroom. ‘Are you going to answer me?’
He wipes the foam away with a towel. ‘I might want kids one day.’
‘But not by me?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘After ten years, you don’t know yet?’
Mark doesn’t reply.
The sound of knocking comes from the corridor. He darts to the door, putting his right eye to the security spy-hole . Harvey waits outside Room 13 with a sandwich on a silver salver. The night porter blinks in astonishment, asdoes Mark, when the door flies open to reveal Alice Honey in shimmering white satin. Tall and slim, perfect in every feature, her nightdress swirls lovingly about the soft curves of her body. The only blemish is the wrinkle of fear playing on her face once she sees Harvey.
‘Yes?’
She manages to drag her eyes off his deformed features to the obscene salami roll he holds out to her.
‘What the hell is this?’
‘My salami special, madam.’
Alice laughs nervously: ‘Is this some kind of sick joke or what? Is it Halloween here?’ Her eyes are now back on Harvey’s unfortunate face.
‘No, madam. What you see is resultant from shell-shock acquired during the Second World War. I answered the call from Sir Winston Churchill to take up arms and defend the world against the Nazi aggressor, and this physiog is what I got for my trouble.’
He pushes past her into the room. ‘Will madam be taking it in bed?’
Alice, thoroughly alarmed, doesn’t follow him into the room, preferring the safety of the corridor.
‘Listen, I didn’t order….’
She stops when he reappears, wheezing.
‘I also got mustard gas in the lungs, madam.’
‘Mustard gas? I thought that was in the First World War?’
‘I was in the Catering Corps, madam.’
He gyrates his pelvis in a most indecent manner. ‘Is there something else you might need me for?’
Alice opens her mouth to reply but can only shake her head.
‘No
Replacing the receiver, he lets go a restrained yell of sexual bravura, while punching the air with his fist.
‘Right up, madam!’
And hastens to the kitchen.
As the night porter is swallowed by the swing doors, so the revolving one is activated. Mark and Ursula reappear in the foyer simultaneously. She takes his proffered arm and together they move regally towards the elegant staircase, pausing only for Mark to pluck a key from the unmanned desk.
He chooses Room 12.
* * *
Outside Room 13, a pair of women’s patent-leather boots await the attention of the hotel bootblack. Tall and black, they are erotic even when unoccupied. Mark’s eyes flicker with suppressed excitement as he opens up the room opposite. Ursula enters first, leaving him to close the door, but not before he shoots another furtive glance at Alice Honey’s enticing footwear.
* * *
The décor in Room 12 embraces the colour range of an old potato, matching perfectly the dark mood of its occupants. Ursula lies on the bed, listless and fully clothed,angry with herself for being there. Mark, meanwhile, is furiously going through his pockets.
‘Shit! I could have sworn I had a packet somewhere in this jacket.’
‘That’s it, then. Not so much coitus interruptus as coitus non-startibus .’
Mark stamps into the bathroom. ‘It’s always been the same with you.’
In his top pocket he finds a small toothbrush, which he waters and rubs vigorously into the soap. He contemplates himself in the mirror and calls out to her. ‘I have a question.’
‘So?’
‘Why won’t you go on the pill?’
‘Why won’t you have a vasectomy?’
Mark starts to brush his teeth and instantly foams at the mouth. He pauses to wonder if this is the outer manifestation of the inner madman.
Ursula calls from the bedroom. ‘Are you going to answer me?’
He wipes the foam away with a towel. ‘I might want kids one day.’
‘But not by me?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘After ten years, you don’t know yet?’
Mark doesn’t reply.
The sound of knocking comes from the corridor. He darts to the door, putting his right eye to the security spy-hole . Harvey waits outside Room 13 with a sandwich on a silver salver. The night porter blinks in astonishment, asdoes Mark, when the door flies open to reveal Alice Honey in shimmering white satin. Tall and slim, perfect in every feature, her nightdress swirls lovingly about the soft curves of her body. The only blemish is the wrinkle of fear playing on her face once she sees Harvey.
‘Yes?’
She manages to drag her eyes off his deformed features to the obscene salami roll he holds out to her.
‘What the hell is this?’
‘My salami special, madam.’
Alice laughs nervously: ‘Is this some kind of sick joke or what? Is it Halloween here?’ Her eyes are now back on Harvey’s unfortunate face.
‘No, madam. What you see is resultant from shell-shock acquired during the Second World War. I answered the call from Sir Winston Churchill to take up arms and defend the world against the Nazi aggressor, and this physiog is what I got for my trouble.’
He pushes past her into the room. ‘Will madam be taking it in bed?’
Alice, thoroughly alarmed, doesn’t follow him into the room, preferring the safety of the corridor.
‘Listen, I didn’t order….’
She stops when he reappears, wheezing.
‘I also got mustard gas in the lungs, madam.’
‘Mustard gas? I thought that was in the First World War?’
‘I was in the Catering Corps, madam.’
He gyrates his pelvis in a most indecent manner. ‘Is there something else you might need me for?’
Alice opens her mouth to reply but can only shake her head.
‘No
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