Rubber Gloves or Jimmy Choos?

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Rubber Gloves or Jimmy Choos? Page 26

by Faith Bleasdale


  Katie had ditched Duncan and I told her what happened with Mark. Katie just stood there with her mouth open. ‘Katie, close your mouth. I just don’t want to ruin things, you know, with my track record. I really liked him.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘Oh, come on, I’ve been so good lately.’

  ‘Only because you haven’t met anyone you like. Normally you sleep with everyone. I am proud of you, though.’

  ‘Katie, am I a cool chick?’

  ‘You’re getting there.’

  ***

  I went home. It was about three in the morning, but I was so happy I had to talk to someone. I woke Jess up.

  ‘Jess, I think I’ve met Mr Right.’

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

  Jess, I just had to tell you. I met this guy, he’s called Mark, he’s twenty-seven and he’s absolutely gorgeous.’

  ‘Ru, it’s the middle of the night, I was dreaming.’

  ‘Jess, this is important. Do you want a cup of tea? No, OK. Anyway, I saw him across a crowded room, really I did. Then I went up to him, I really did, and I introduced myself and he introduced himself. Did I tell you he was called Mark? Then I got him a drink. He’s a radio producer and he asked for my phone number. He asked for my phone number, and he kissed me on both cheeks. Oh, he was so polite, a real gentleman, a proper man. Jess, doesn’t he sound wonderful?’

  ‘Yeah, whatever.’

  ‘Anyway, thanks for the chat, I’m going to bed now.’

  ‘Uggggh.’

  ***

  The next morning I woke up early. It was Sunday yet I woke up at seven. I didn’t wake up at seven on a weekday without duress. What do you do when you wake up early at a weekend? I cleaned the house. When Sarah got up at ten, it was spotless. I’d been to the shops too and I was cooking breakfast with the Sunday papers in front of me. I made Sarah breakfast and told her about Mark and she was far more interested than Jess had been. Sophie got up at eleven, but I had to tell her quickly about Mark because she was making coffee for the Thespian. When Jess emerged I started making her breakfast.

  ‘You’re up late,’ I said, and she looked as if she was going to hit me, so I put her breakfast in front of her and she calmed down a bit, I felt happier and more excited than I had since moving to London. I really had something to look forward to.

  I wanted to embrace life. I wanted to hug things, anything. I felt alive for the first time in ages. Reborn. And, yes, it was due to a man. A very special man. A very special man indeed. For the first time I was going to be called by a man. I knew he’d call. I hadn’t slept with him. According to Jess’s rules, he was definitely going to call. Of course, I had to make preparations for being called by Mark. I had to stay in close proximity to the phone. Apart from going to work, which I had to do, I stayed by the phone the whole time. I checked the answer phone for messages as soon as I got home from work and for the next week I waited constantly for the phone to ring. When it did I jumped on it. When it was my mother I shouted at her, when it was the Thespian I shouted at Sophie, when it was Jerry I sulked with Jess, and if it was any of Sarah’s friends I gave her a dirty look.

  It was hell. On Monday he didn’t call, on Tuesday he didn’t call, or Wednesday or Thursday or Friday. He hadn’t bloody called. My friends assured me he was just playing it cool, but it didn’t help. He had asked for my phone number, why would he do that if he wasn’t going to call? Katie tried to get me to go out at the weekend but I couldn’t leave my phone vigilance so I declined. All weekend I sat by the phone and still he didn’t call. Again I was in despair. I called BT to check the phone was working, I wanted to call the hospitals to check that Mark hadn’t been in an accident, but my friends wouldn’t allow it. I was helpless. I just had to wait by the phone.

  After a miserable weekend of waiting, I went back to work on Monday. Katie tried her best to calm me down and stop me worrying, but it didn’t work. The only thing that would was Mark calling, but I had to face the prospect that that wasn’t going to happen. At twelve minutes past nine on Monday night, the phone rang. Out of habit I ran like Linford Christie to answer it.

  ‘Hi, Ruth?’

  It was Mark.

  ‘Yes.’ My heart did a somersault. That voice, that beautiful voice.

  ‘It’s Mark.’

  Thank you, God. ‘Hi, Mark, how are you?’

  ‘Fine, and you?’

  ‘Yes, I’m well.’

  ‘What have you been up to?’

  ‘Um, this and that.’ Waiting for you to call, you idiot.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry I haven’t called before, but I’ve been really busy at work, you know how it is.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I understand.’ He apologised, he apologised.

  ‘Anyway, would you like to go out on Friday?’

  ‘Yes.’ Yes, yes, yes.

  ‘OK, well, look, I’ll give you a call on Thursday and we’ll arrange to meet.’ Oh, God, not another call.

  ‘You will call?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’m looking forward to seeing you. Listen, I’ll talk to you then, ‘bye.’

  ‘Bye.’

  The week and a bit of misery had been worth it. I had a date with Mark, Mark the Gorgeous, Mark the Wonderful. I had a date. I had the biggest smile on my face as I put down the phone. Of course, I had to tell my friends. Luckily, it being Monday, they were all in, so I had a great opportunity for smugness.

  ‘He called,’ I told them.

  ‘Thought that was why you were screaming,’ Jess said.

  ‘He called.’

  ‘What did he say?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘He’s taking me out on Friday, somewhere cool, I expect. He’s calling me on Thursday to arrange things.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ they all said.

  ‘No, he will call, he promised. Did I tell you how good-looking he is?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m pleased, Ru, really pleased,’ Sophie said.

  ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing? I mean, face it, honey, you’ve been a nightmare all week, really depressed. Are you sure he’s the right sort of guy for you?’

  I hated Sarah sometimes. ‘He’s perfect. Anyway he’s very busy, he has a very responsible job. Give him a chance,’ I snapped.

  ‘All right, Ru, we’re just worried, that’s all,’ Jess explained.

  ‘Well, can’t you just be happy for me?’

  ‘We are, babe, we are.’ Sarah was unconvincing.

  ‘But I have a good feeling about him, as he’s lovely and he may just be the one.’

  ‘Oh, shit,’ Jess said.

  ‘What now?’ I shouted.

  ‘What the fuck are you going to wear?’

  Horror built up inside me.

  ‘You’ve got loads of clothes, don’t worry,’ Sophie said.

  Here endeth the don’t-get-hurt lesson, and here starteth the panic involved in being a girl and having a date. We ran to my bedroom, emptied my wardrobe, ran to Jess’s and did the same. In desperation I did it with Sarah’s and Sophie’s too, although their clothes wouldn’t fit me anyway. Then I started wailing. ‘Oh, my God. It’s hopeless, I’ll have to cancel.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Pull yourself together – we’ll go shopping,’ Sarah said.

  I hugged her. ‘Really? New clothes? Nice sexy clothes?’

  ‘Yes, we’ll go one afternoon. Can you get time off?’ I nodded, and thought that Sarah was the nicest person in the world. For a minute.

  ‘What about my hair? It’s a mess.’

  ‘Hairdresser,’ Jess said.

  ‘And I’ll do your nails and your make-up,’ Sophie offered. ‘So, I can go out with Mark?’

  ‘Yes, and you’ll knock him dead,’ Sarah said. I loved all of my friends so much.

  ***

  The problem with falling in love, or lust, or whatever, is that it is very expensive. First there was the shopping. Sarah and I went on Wednesday afternoon and I bought her lunch to thank her for taking her
precious time off for me. After going to thousands of shops we decided on tight black cropped trousers and a sexy low-cut lilac top. Sexy but not obvious. I was planning to wear my black suede high-heeled mules to complete the look.

  ‘What about underwear?’ I said.

  Sarah gave me a look. ‘Ru, are you planning on jumping into bed with him?’

  I turned red. ‘No, but my mother always says that you feel more confident if you’re wearing nice underwear,’ I protested. I dragged Sarah into a department store where I chose lacy black knickers and a matching push-up bra. Well, I couldn’t rely on folding my arms to give me a cleavage, not when I expected them to be firmly wrapped around Mark. Could I?

  Wednesday evening I had my hair done. Sophie came with me as I had insisted on going to her hairdresser, which cost about a million pounds and was hugely pretentious. Antonio was going to cut my hair. He was probably called Tony from London, but he put on a fake Italian accent and was very camp. He walked around my hair a number of times. He touched it and tutted, then tutted some more, said, ‘Fluuuffy,’ a lot, and after what seemed an eternity he jumped up, said, ‘I’ve goot it,’ and summoned someone to come and wash it. Once in the chair, he told me my hair was boring, in bad condition and needed lifting.

  He didn’t ask me what I wanted, just hacked away. Then he tried to get me to have it coloured, but I drew the line at that. Antonio told me, ‘Bad girls have dullest hair, you want to be a bad girl?’ I shook my head and promised I’d get it coloured next time.

  Sophie had been sitting reading Hello for the last hour and a half, but when Antonio had finished, she came to admire his handiwork. ‘God, Ru, you look amazing,’ she said. I looked and I liked, and I thought the intimidation had been worth it. I felt a million dollars. It cost me a million dollars.

  By Thursday night I was ready for Mark. I sat by the phone with my beautiful new hair and a new-found confidence. He called just as he said he would. Admittedly it was at ten o’clock. And admittedly I had been sitting for four hours waiting and torturing myself that he wasn’t going to rail. But he called. We arranged to meet in Soho at nine on Friday and, once again, I was on top of the world.

  ***

  I got to the meeting place early. I had tried to be cool, as Jess and Sarah told me, but I couldn’t. I was meeting him in a bar, so I just bravely went in, ordered a drink. Now I was hanging with the cool crowd I could do this. But the bar was hyper-trendy. Full of fluorescent fluffy furnishings, and matching people. Although I thought I looked nice, again I was underdressed. I tried not to feel too out of place as I sat down to wait. And wait and wait.

  By nine I was getting restless, by ten past I was worried, by twenty past I was a nervous wreck. I didn’t know if he’d stood me up, or died en route, or had an accident or what. Everyone in the bar was staring at me, or so I thought, and my eyes were glued to the door.

  At half past nine Mark walked in and I felt so relieved I wanted to kiss the world. I was secondarily relieved to see he was wearing black trousers, a bright shirt and designer shoes. Not fluorescent fluff. He came over, smiled, kissed my cheek and went to buy drinks. He didn’t seem to notice that he was late. I relaxed with him quite quickly. I was even cracking jokes and Mark laughed in the right places. The problem was that everyone in the bar seemed to know him: he was approached by about a hundred people. The girls came up and flirted brazenly with him, the men came up and wanted to talk about business or clubs or whatever. No one was interested in me. When we were alone I decided to ask him about these girls.

  ‘How do you cope with those girls all the time? I mean, they may look nice, but they don’t seem to have a brain-cell to rub together, and the way they giggle at everything you say, it’s so annoying.’ God, I was brave.

  Mark laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose they are silly, but they’re harmless. They just want to hook a man with the right connections, that’s all.’

  ‘They obviously think you have the right connections. Do you?’

  ‘Yes, I guess so.’

  ‘Oh, well, that’s a relief, I never date a man who doesn’t have the right connections.’

  ‘Ruth, you’re so funny.’

  ‘Why?’ I was a little offended.

  ‘Because you are and I think it’s great and maybe we ought to go to this party now, otherwise I won’t want to go.’ He kissed me. He kissed me on the mouth, no cheeks and I felt all the tremors of a thousand earthquakes. God, he was so sexy.

  The party was a repeat performance of the bar. Girls, men, everybody wanted to talk to Mark. He was like some hero. I was hanging on to his arm, because due to lack of attention I was a little drunk and my legs felt quite weak. I was in love. And I wanted Mark to myself. I didn’t want to have to share him for a minute more.

  ‘Mark, I want to go to your place now,’ I said seductively. He looked at me and we left.

  His flat was in Notting Hill and it was clearly a bachelor pad. The kitchen had no food, the lounge housed a huge TV and stereo and little else. But I didn’t have time to study it in detail, I had more important things to do. Mark’s stereo was huge and he went straight to it and put a Neil Diamond CD on.

  ‘Beer?’ he asked, coming so close to me I felt weak. I just shook my head. He was teasing me, moving slowly towards me until I had had enough. I grabbed his bottom and kissed him. The kiss that almost killed me. We moved to the sofa, still kissing and eased ourselves down. Mark took off my shoes, kissing my toes, which was almost orgasmic. He then peeled off my top and bra. I tried to do the same to him but he shook his head. ‘Wait,’ he commanded.

  Although I tried to do as I was told, there was a bomb in my knickers and it was about to go off. He started licking my neck, kissing my shoulder then moved to my breasts. The way he sucked, kissed and bit my nipples brought me to my second almost orgasm. I was losing control, I didn’t know if I could take much more. He moved his tongue down my body until he got to my trousers. Within seconds he had removed them and my knickers. I was begging him, ‘Please, Mark, please.’ He just smiled as he found my clitoris with his hands and tongue simultaneously. It was only a matter of seconds before I came for real.

  But as he kissed me I knew I wanted more. I pulled at his shirt insistently, I fumbled with his trousers easing him out of them, I practically ripped his Calvin Kleins off him. I started kissing, teasing, licking the way he had with me. Mark had a half-smile on his face the whole time, which graduated into a full smile as I brought him to climax. He lit a cigarette, passed it to me and we sat in silence. I sat naked on his sofa, he sat in front of me on the floor.

  ‘Let’s make love,’ I said, when the cigarette was nearly finished. He stood up and disappeared. When he came back into the room he had attired himself in a condom.

  ‘Come with me,’ he commanded and, powerless, I followed him. He led me into the kitchen, lifted me on to his plastic kitchen table. I lay there, feeling slightly exposed as he went to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of champagne. He opened the bottle, poured champagne over me and licked it off, everywhere. Then I did the same to him. Seeing Mark spread across a table, naked bar a condom turned me on more than I’d ever been turned on in my life. And as I devoured the champagne and his body at the same time I had another orgasm. Finally he took me to the kitchen floor, put me on all fours and we started screwing. I couldn’t help myself, I was screaming, I was sweating, I was coming again and again. When Mark collapsed on top of me after a few minutes of heaven, I knew I’d had the screw of the century.

  We stayed on the floor for a while, catching our breaths, waiting for our heart rates to return to normal.

  ‘Bed?’ Mark asked, but I wasn’t ready.

  ‘I’d like a bath,’ I said. Mark nodded. I just wanted the sexiness to last forever. We ran the bath, pouring Mark’s shampoo into it (he didn’t bathe much, evidently). The bathroom was stark white, clean and small. He got into the bath and I climbed in between his legs with my back to him.

  ‘You’re fantastic,’ he said at last.
I giggled. He soaped me and I pressed my body to him. Despite everything I was still wanting more. We didn’t dry off, we just went to the bedroom where I grabbed a condom from his packet by the bed, put it on him, pushed him on to the bed, mounted him and proceeded to give him the fuck of his life. When we collapsed for the second time, Mark removed the condom, kissed me and we crawled under the duvet. I noticed that it was five in the morning, but I wasn’t tired. I was just incredibly happy.

  There was more passion than I’d ever given or received. When I’m old and have given up sex, I will remember that night as one of the best. His only flaw was that little smile, which was constantly on his face, as if I was amusing him somewhat.

  In the morning I woke to find him doing something very nice to me. God, he knew how to turn me on. We made love again, then decided to get breakfast at a little café. It was almost lunchtime and I didn’t want to leave, but Mark offered to drive me home so we got into his car (which was a sports car) and went to Clapham.

  I walked calmly into the house and into the lounge. No one was there. I threw myself on the sofa and lay there smiling. I was so happy. I relived the details of last night in my head. The kiss, the laugh, the smile, the sex, it had all been so perfect. I couldn’t believe that something so good could have happened to me. I was well on the way to being totally in love with Mark. I adored him, he was wonderful, I fancied him, he was sexy and we had fun. I was having fun. I had to talk to someone so I decided to go and see Katie. I needed a good gloat – I felt I deserved one.

 

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