Some Girls Do

by Murphy, Clodagh

  ‘Well, it was a hard sell, but I managed to get rid of it,’ she said. ‘She only wanted a fiver to take it off my hands.’ She picked up the holdall. ‘Right, shall we go?’

  ‘You gave her money as well?’ Claire asked. ‘That buggy must be worth a couple of hundred euro.’

  ‘Try five,’ Catherine said, opening the door of the bar. ‘I’m just glad to be rid of it. I never want to see another buggy as long as I live.’

  They fought their way through the after-work crowd to the depths of the pub. There were no empty seats, but they found two stools at the bar and were served quickly by a young girl with an Australian accent.

  ‘I shouldn’t even be having this,’ Catherine said, as the girl put their gin and tonic in front of them.

  ‘Oh? Why not?’ Claire asked.

  ‘I have news,’ Catherine said, with a secretive smile. Then she placed a hand over her stomach.

  The Australian girl threw her a dirty look before walking away.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Claire gasped. ‘You’re pregnant!’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘How far along are you?’

  ‘Oh, only three or four weeks. I haven’t decided exactly yet, but very early days – too soon to announce it on my blog or anything. But I can tell you.’

  ‘Well, congratulations!’

  ‘Thanks!’

  They clinked glasses.

  ‘So, tell all,’ Catherine said, leaning forward avidly. ‘How did your weekend with Mark go?’

  ‘It was really nice.’ Claire smiled. ‘I had such a good time. His place is lovely. He made me his world-famous nachos, took me to Highgate Cemetery and baked lemon drizzle cake. He’s so thoughtful. And I met his cat, Millie. We discussed ideas for the book. Oh, and he wants to read my novel as soon as it’s ready.’

  ‘That’s great! And was there more kissing?’

  ‘Yes.’ Claire smiled bashfully. ‘There was. Quite a lot of kissing.’ There had been more kissing on Sunday when he’d brought her to the airport. She couldn’t help smiling when she thought of it.

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘No, just kissing. I’m not ready to go any further than that yet. So it’s great that I came up with the five-date rule. I can relax and just enjoy being with him for now.’

  ‘Yeah, that was a stroke of genius,’ Catherine said, poking her ice with a swizzle stick. ‘And you have the distance thing, so that slows things down a bit too.’

  ‘And five dates is just a minimum. It’s not a guarantee or anything.’

  ‘So are you two dates down now? Or is it three because you were with him two nights at the weekend?’

  ‘No, it’s two. I only counted Saturday night as a date.’

  ‘So, how’s it going with the other guy? Are you making progress?’

  ‘I’m starting to get the hang of the basics, but I still have a lot to learn.’

  ‘But isn’t it a bit …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well … awkward. Embarrassing. Having sex with him like that – in cold blood, as it were.’

  ‘I would have thought so, but it’s not really. It doesn’t feel like that – cold, I mean. Luca makes it easy. He’s really nice.’

  ‘Cute?’

  ‘Very. Gorgeous, actually.’

  ‘Well, that helps. And you like him?’

  ‘Yeah. He’s surprisingly sweet.’

  ‘Do you like like him?’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Claire frowned. ‘It’s not like that. I mean I love, you know … being with him.’

  ‘Shagging him?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Claire smiled. ‘To put it bluntly. And we’re having all this … sex,’ she said, her mouth automatically widening in a grin at the thought of all that sex. ‘So I can’t help feeling close to him in a way. But Luca and I – we’re chalk and cheese.’

  ‘What does he do?’

  ‘He’s an artist – a painter. We have nothing in common, really. I mean, I don’t know if he reads, and I know nothing about art.’

  ‘I bet you know what you like.’

  Claire laughed. ‘Yeah. And his paintings are amazing.’

  ‘Maybe you have more in common than you think.’

  ‘Well, let’s see.’ Claire tilted her head to the side. ‘We both eat food – and breathe air.’

  ‘You’re both creative.’

  ‘I suppose.’ Claire had never thought of it like that. But to her, Luca’s single-minded commitment to his art only made them seem more dissimilar. She admired his dedication, his willingness to make sacrifices to devote himself to his painting, but she didn’t really understand it. She didn’t think she could ever be like that. She liked her creature comforts too much.

  ‘Anyway, I don’t think it’s all that important to have stuff in common. I have bugger-all in common with Hazel, really. Look at the child thing, for instance. She doesn’t want any. I already have one phantom child and another on the way.’

  ‘Well, you’re both women. That’s quite big.’

  ‘There is that.’

  ‘I do like Luca, but I just don’t think of him that way. He’s far too wild for me. And it’s an artificial situation. We’d never have got together organically.’

  In the normal course of events, her and Luca’s paths would never have crossed again after that one night in Ivan’s bar. They wouldn’t have gravitated towards each other. Even if she’d slept with him when she’d brought him back to her house, it would have been a one-off. If it hadn’t been for her bizarre proposition, they would never have got to know each other properly. She would have made assumptions about him that weren’t true. Maybe he’d have made assumptions of his own about her. The thought that they would have remained strangers to each other seemed odd now, and made her feel sad. She liked Luca, and she was glad she had got to know him. But they still weren’t a natural fit. They didn’t belong together – not like her and Mark.

  ‘Anyway, like I told you, Luca isn’t interested in relationships. Total man-whore, remember? He likes to spread the love.’

  When they had almost finished their drinks, Catherine asked Claire if she had time for another.

  ‘Better not,’ Claire said, glancing at her watch. ‘I want to pop in to see Mum, and then I’m going over to Luca’s for the night.’

  ‘Another lesson?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Probably just as well.’ Catherine sighed. ‘I need to get this piece on buggies finished – the deadline’s the day after tomorrow.’ She drained her drink, and they stood to go. ‘A fantasist’s work is never done.’

  Claire’s days followed the same routine for the rest of the week. She would visit her mother on the way home from work, then go straight to Luca’s, where they would have dinner together and chat about their days, then spend the rest of the night having sex. She usually spoke to Mark or emailed him at some stage in the day, and it was like having a boyfriend, only he was split in two: there was Mark, whom she talked to, flirted with and was slowly falling for, and Luca, who took care of her physical needs. It was a strange set-up, and it would be nice when she could be with Mark and have the whole package in one person. But in the meantime she was enjoying herself, happier and more satisfied with her life than she’d been in a long time. She loved having sex with Luca, and she loved the emotional connection she had with Mark and their long, chatty phone calls when they would talk about everything and nothing, from what they had for lunch to political and religious beliefs. Most often, the talk turned to books.

  ‘Favourite childhood book?’ he asked her one night.

  ‘Heidi! No … maybe The Secret Garden. Or Anne of Green Gables … Ballet Shoes … Oh, God, this is hard. There are too many good ones.’

  ‘Well, you said Heidi first.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll go with Heidi.’

  ‘Favourite detective?’

  ‘That’s easy. Lord Peter Wimsey.’

  ‘Good choice!’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Hm … I’ll have to say Mi
ss Marple. A virago in tweed.’

  ‘Edgy!’

  ‘I’m so uncool. Romantic hero?’

  ‘Mr Darcy. I’m such a cliché. Romantic heroine?’

  ‘I feel I should say Dorothea Brooke but—’

  ‘Too earnest. And completely deluded. She’d never have you – you’re far too suitable.’

  ‘Yeah. Bridget Jones would be more of a laugh. Or Elizabeth Bennet.’

  ‘Or anyone, really.’ Claire laughed.

  Friday had been a beautiful day, and when she arrived at Luca’s place that evening, the front door was open and a couple of girls were sitting out on the steps, enjoying the last of the evening sunshine. Claire was in high spirits as she went in and raced up the stairs to Luca’s door. It was Friday night, the start of the weekend, and she was not in work the following day. She was in a celebratory mood. Her mother was coming home on Sunday, and she wanted to make the most of every second of the last weekend she could spend almost entirely with Luca. She had bought cava and smoked salmon, crispy bread and lots of deli luxuries for an indulgent picnic-style dinner. She had been thinking maybe they could eat it in bed, grazing leisurely between vigorous bouts of sex.

  ‘Claire, hi!’ Luca opened the door and she swept past him into the living room. ‘I was trying to call you. You didn’t get my text?’

  ‘Oh! No, I mustn’t have heard it when I was out in the traffic,’ she said, fishing her mobile out of her bag. Sure enough, there was a missed call from Luca and a text alert.

  ‘It’s just this friend of mine is playing at The Grand Social with her band tonight, and I said I’d go. I’m sorry. I’d completely forgotten about it until she texted me about an hour ago. She gave me the tickets way back.’

  ‘Oh. Okay,’ Claire said, trying to school her features and not look too disappointed. After all, Luca had been spending all his free time with her. It was only fair that he should have a night off. It wasn’t his fault she’d built tonight up in her head and had been so looking forward to it. She just wished she’d seen his message and saved herself the trouble of coming over.

  ‘So we don’t have time for dinner,’ he said, eyeing her shopping bags. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ she said, desperately trying to affect nonchalance.

  ‘You don’t mind?’ He gazed at her anxiously.

  ‘No, of course not. You go – we’ll still have tomorrow. That’s if you’re free.’ It was ridiculous how deflated she felt. She would have to rein that in. He wasn’t her boyfriend – he didn’t owe her anything. It was probably a good thing this had happened – it was a timely reminder of what their relationship really was. He had been very generous with his time and she had let herself get carried away, expecting him to be available to her whenever she liked. But he had his own life. ‘Just let me stash this food in the fridge and I’ll go.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ He frowned. ‘I want you to come with me.’

  ‘You do?’ She couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across her face.

  ‘Yeah – I mean, if you’d like to. If you’d rather not … I know it’s not really your scene but—’

  ‘No, I’d love to.’ She was excited anew at the prospect of going out with Luca – and it was ages since she’d been to a gig. It would be fun.

  ‘They’re really good, the band,’ he said. ‘I’d say you’ll enjoy it. And we can use it as one of your lessons too – kill two birds with one stone.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Doing it in public.’ He grinned. ‘It’s in your blog, remember? Your alter ego is quite the exhibitionist. That time you gave Mr Bossy a blowjob in a crowded restaurant was seriously hot! Or the time you had sex at the football match. I had to run to the bathroom with that one.’

  She laughed. ‘I wish I’d seen your text earlier, though. I’m not exactly dressed for a gig,’ she said, holding her arms out. She was still in the fitted white shirt, denim skirt and flat pumps she had worn to work.

  ‘You look great. And you’re wearing a skirt – that’s the important thing.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘If we’re going to be doing it in public, easy access is essential.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Luca laughed. ‘Hey, don’t look so worried. It’ll be fun.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m ready for doing it in public,’ she said nervously, though she did feel a thrill of anticipation.

  ‘You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, don’t you?’ He grabbed her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, and looked at her so sternly that Claire knew he wanted an answer.

  ‘Yes, absolutely. But I’d like to try.’ She couldn’t deny the idea excited her.

  ‘Okay. But if you want to call it off at any time—’

  ‘I’ll just tell you to fuck off.’

  ‘That’s my girl.’ Luca laughed. ‘Emma’s band is great. We’ll have a good time either way.’

  The downstairs bar was heaving when they arrived, a Friday-night cocktail of heat, light and noise as the hipster crowd laughed and roared over the crash of glass and a thumping bass soundtrack. Claire held on tightly to Luca’s hand as he pulled her through the throng to the upstairs venue. The room was packed and stuffy, a crush of bodies standing, drinks in hand, in front of a small stage where the band were setting up under a banner bearing the name The Legendary Fall. Luca seemed to know a lot of people and he was stopped several times by friends greeting him with hugs and claps on the back as they wove towards the bar. He was obviously very popular and everyone seemed happy to see him. There was a lot of ‘Where have you been hiding?’ and ‘Haven’t seen you in ages’ while eyes slid curiously in Claire’s direction. Luca didn’t let go of her hand, introducing her to everyone he met and exchanging a few words with them. She couldn’t help noticing the admiring, hungry looks he got from a lot of the girls, or the inquisitive, assessing way their eyes raked over her, blatantly checking her out. It gave her a shallow feeling of pride at being with him that she liked more than she should have.

  They got a couple of beers, then took up position close to the stage, Luca standing behind Claire with his arms wrapped around her, occasionally bending to nuzzle her neck, for all the world like an adoring boyfriend who couldn’t keep his hands off her. Claire tried to relax, but she kept wondering if he was going to jump her right there in front of everyone. She half-expected to feel him pulling her skirt up from behind, and it put her on edge, even though she reminded herself that she could just tell him to stop.

  When the band started playing, however, she forgot her nerves, forgot about her sex lesson and just enjoyed the music. There were six band members packed onto the tiny stage, three guys and three girls. The singer was a tall, striking girl with long, flaming red hair and a powerful voice, her clothes an eclectic cross between Goth and fairytale princess. Luca pointed out his friend, Emma, a gorgeous, raven-haired girl who swayed sinuously around the stage as she played the violin, oozing sensuality. Claire was envious – she was so sexy and graceful. She wondered if she and Luca had ever been more than friends.

  Claire loved the music, and she found herself having fun, dancing with the crowd, or swaying in Luca’s arms during the slower songs. She felt light and carefree and young. It was good to be out on Friday night with people her own age for a change. The room was alive with youthful vibrancy; the very air seemed charged with energy and possibility. She felt more herself than she had in a long time – or maybe like a new version of herself that she’d never been before. Whatever it was, she liked it.

  ‘Do you want another drink?’ Luca asked her, when the singer announced that they’d be taking a short break after the next song.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘I’ll beat the rush to the bar,’ he said, releasing her as the intro played. ‘Won’t be long.’

  On his way to the bar, Luca glanced back at Claire and stopped in his tracks, turning to watch her for a while as she moved to the music. She looked so happy and carefree – and hot. She h
ad no idea how sexy she was – which made her even sexier. And he wasn’t the only one who saw it, he thought angrily, as he watched a guy beside her leering at her in a way that infuriated him. He was tempted to go back and tell him to take his eyes off her and get lost, but Claire wasn’t aware of the guy’s staring and it would only make her self-conscious if he drew attention to it. She was enjoying herself, and he didn’t want to spoil her fun, so he told himself not to come over all caveman and continued to the bar. He kept an eye on her, though, glancing over regularly as he waited impatiently to be served. When the band left the stage and the lights came up, he was annoyed to see the guy turn to Claire and start chatting her up, leaning in far closer than was necessary to talk into her ear. She was responding to him with a polite smile, but she was darting anxious glances towards the bar. Luca knew she was looking for him and tried to catch her eye. She didn’t see him, but he caught the desperate plea for help on her face before her eyes slid away again.

  Fuck off, arsehole, he thought, grabbing the two bottles of beer off the counter as soon as he’d been served and pushing through the crowd. He hated guys like that. Couldn’t he see that she just wanted to be rid of him? He obviously wasn’t fluent in body language or else he was choosing to ignore hers because every time he leaned closer, she compensated by leaning away, until she was almost doing a limbo in the middle of the room. The guy glanced round as Luca approached with a scowl, trying to quell him. To his satisfaction it appeared to work, because the man said something to Claire, smiling regretfully before he quickly disappeared.

  ‘Hi.’ Claire smiled as he reached her, and he could see the relief in her face.

  ‘Was that guy bothering you?’ he asked, handing her a beer.

  ‘He was just being friendly, really.’

  Luca rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, right.’ He took a slug of his beer. ‘So, having fun?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘The band’s great – I love their music. Thanks for bringing me.’