by Hazel Hayes
‘Hold still,’ she says.
‘Sorry.’
Lena begins to slowly peel the skin from my right shoulder. It’s a strange sensation. Like glue that’s hardened there. Like I’m losing something that was never really mine. There’s a slight twinge as it breaks off and my body tenses. She tightens her grip on me and pulls another strip, and then another.
‘All done,’ she says.
But instead of letting go, her fingers drop from my arm to my hip. She moves closer, so that our bodies are practically touching and in that moment I do something that surprises me; I step back, closing the gap between us. I can feel her breasts against my back now, and her hipbones pressing into me. Her right hand slips down my arm to my hand and I watch as her fingers mingle with mine. She runs the tip of her nose up my neck to the back of my ear, her lips brushing my hairline, hot breath escaping from them as they part in what is almost a kiss. I shut my eyes tight, because my kitchen looks too real and what I’m doing right now can’t be.
We stay this way, our bodies moving against one another, softly swaying like seedlings in a gentle breeze. Lena’s hand leaves my hip and her fingertips graze my stomach, resting there a moment before sliding slowly downwards.
Without thinking, my free hand flies up to meet hers and I hold it there, squeezing it tight. I almost let her hand go, to continue on its journey, but I can’t. I step forward, pulling my body away from her.
Lena rests her forehead on the back of my head for a moment, a few inches between us now, and I can feel her whole demeanour change.
‘If I had you,’ she whispers into my hair, ‘I wouldn’t share you.’
I turn to face her then, and I’m not prepared for what I see: shame for what she almost did, regret for what she didn’t do, and somewhere in there an intense desire for me. It’s been a long time since somebody has looked at me this way and I know there’s every chance that I may never see it again. I gaze back at her with what I hope is enough to convey how I feel, then she turns and, without a word, she leaves. I dry the dishes and go to bed.
I think about her that night. I allow myself that. Alone in bed my body shudders at the thought of all the things we didn’t do. Afterwards, I drift into a deep sleep. And somewhere in the night, Theo returns home, slipping into bed beside me without me even stirring.
In the morning I wake to the sound of the blender noisily whirring and I stumble from bed to find Theo in the kitchen, already back from a run. He jumps when he sees me and turns the blender off.
‘Sorry!’ He practically shouts it, pulling his headphones out of his ears. I can hear a tiny, tinny version of ‘This Charming Man’ come floating out of them. I put my finger to my lips and smile.
‘Sorry,’ he whispers. ‘Thought you’d be up already.’
‘That’s fine, honey,’ I mumble back, looking towards the window at another blue sky.
He hugs me and I wince as he wraps his arms around my burned shoulder. His clothes are damp with sweat.
‘Fancy some pancakes?’ he asks into my ear. My gaze drops to the tiles next to the sink and I squint down for a long time at the silvery slither of skin before I realise what it is: a little piece of me on the floor.
‘Sounds lovely,’ I say.
*
While Theo makes us breakfast, I sit in the window, drinking a cup of tea.
‘Shall we go to the park today?’ I ask.
‘Can’t,’ he says, deftly flipping a pancake in the air, ‘I’m seeing my mother.’
‘Oh, okay.’
‘Sorry I didn’t ask,’ says Theo. ‘I assumed you’d be writing.’
That’s half true.
‘I finished my story, actually,’ I say.
Just then, Lena emerges from the door across the way. She’s wearing loose white trousers and a pale blue blouse. Even from here I know it’s the same colour as her eyes.
‘Well done!’ says Theo.
‘For what?’
I don’t take my eyes off Lena, who’s putting her suitcase in the back of a taxi now.
‘Finishing the story,’ Theo laughs.
‘Oh. Yeah. Thanks. Wanna read it?’
‘Maybe later,’ he says. ‘Lemon and sugar?’
Lena’s opening the passenger door. She’s about to get inside. I want to call out to her. I want her to look up. And with that, as though sensing me somehow, she does, and I smile.
‘Hey!’ calls Theo from the kitchen.
Lena waves to me and I wave back, but instead of getting in the car, she hesitates. Still staring up at me, she waits, and I know exactly what she’s waiting for.
I could go, I think. I could go with her and leave all this, leave everything up till now right where it is. I see us, Lena and I, lazing in the cool, quiet dawn of languid summer nights. The soft, sweet taste of one another and the dregs of some cheap, pink wine. Me writing the story of my life so far and her by my side for the rest of it.
‘Hey,’ says Theo, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I look up at him, a little startled and suddenly aware of the tears in my eyes.
‘Are you all right?’ he asks, but I can’t speak so I just nod. Theo touches my face softly, and looks at me like he’s searching for something. Then he kisses me on the forehead and hands me a plate of pancakes.
‘Thank you,’ I say, and when I look back out of the window, she’s gone.
Splinter
I don’t regret moving to London.
When I got here, I moved into the flat Theo was sharing with his friend Isaac. They both studied Accounting at uni and had been living together in what Isaac unironically referred to as the ‘Lad Pad’ since Theo left Dublin eight months earlier. The estate agency described the flat as ‘rustic but cosy’; there was mould growing in the kitchen – which also functioned as the living and dining rooms – and Theo’s bedroom was so small that the door wouldn’t open fully without hitting the edge of his bed, the only item of furniture in the room.
Theo had been offered a job in London with a salary too good to turn down, and the plan was always for me to follow him here when I could. But I’m not sure Isaac ever really believed that that would happen; apparently, he tried to set Theo up with a number of women during our time apart, usually in the form of a surprise double date, and always with girls who claimed they ‘weren’t looking for anything serious’. Theo would call and tell me about whatever awkward situation Isaac had got him into that week, and we’d laugh it off together. Harmless mischief, what a cheeky chappy, etc. But it got old fast.
Isaac ‘chooses to remain single’, he says, ‘because you get way more pussy playing the field’. It’s true, you certainly get a wider variety of pussy that way, but that only matters if your sole objective in life is to have a lot of sex, which to be fair, seems to be the case with Isaac.
I had built him up in my mind as some kind of heart-throb and was surprised to find that he was in fact an average-looking twenty-five-year-old with a trust fund, a signed copy of The Game and what Theo and I lovingly called ‘the sex light’ – a red bulb in a cheap plastic lampshade, which Isaac claims can ‘get any woman in the mood’. In the two months I lived with Isaac he did sleep with a lot of women, but it’s impossible to tell whether they did so because of his sex light or their low standards. I met one of them the next morning over a bowl of cereal but I didn’t have the heart to ask. Nice girl, actually. Quite pretty. And she put the milk back in the fridge when she was done, which is more than I can say for Isaac.
The rest of Theo’s uni friends are pretty harmless. They’re all extremely rich and a bit aimless – none of them quite knows what to do with their art history or social sciences degree – and every single one of them asked me what university I went to within one minute of meeting me, but they’re a fun bunch and they’ve made me feel welcome. I know that’s less to do with me and more to do with the fact that they idolise Theo – any friend of his is a friend of theirs and all that – but I think they’re also the kind of frie
nds who would tell him if they thought he was making a massive mistake, and to my knowledge none of them have done that, with the exception of Isaac of course, who we’ve already established is a bit of a twat.
I first met them all the week after I moved here, at a charity event hosted by Theo’s university; a gang of wealthy alumni had been invited back to have their pockets picked for a new library or science lab or some such, and most of Theo’s class were there. I was being introduced to Kara, James and Trinny when we were interrupted by Isaac. He had brought a date, but seemed more interested in flaunting her in front of everyone than actually speaking to her. I noticed Trinny in particular grow increasingly uncomfortable with this embarrassing display, and after ten minutes of polite but strained small talk, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. I offered to go with her, not because I needed to go but because anything was better than staying there with Isaac. Or so I thought; we’d barely made it a few steps before we were accosted by Gemma.
‘Incoming,’ said Trinny to me as Gemma approached, arms outstretched, head tilted precariously to one side. I was being assaulted by air kisses before I had time to register what Trinny had said.
‘So good of you both to come,’ bellowed Gemma, as though she were hosting the event herself, ‘I’m thrilled you could make it.’
‘Hi, Gemma,’ said Trinny, throwing me a look that said: Run, save yourself.
But it was too late.
‘You must be Theo’s new beau,’ said Gemma. She spoke without ever opening her mouth and she dragged out every vowel sound to a painful degree.
‘We were just on our way to the bathroom actually,’ said Trinny, but Gemma ignored her and continued speaking directly to me.
‘What a lovely dress. Very … daring.’
I was wearing a long-sleeved, plunge-neck gown, which I’d bought especially for that night, knowing I’d be introduced to all of Theo’s posh mates. I’d kept the tags on and was praying that nobody noticed.
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I like yours too.’
‘What, this old thing?’
Gemma lightly brushed the gold sequins on what was clearly a new designer dress, and tried to feign humility.
‘You know, I used to live with Theo,’ said Gemma.
Trinny sighed and folded her arms, like a woman accepting her fate.
‘Is that so?’ I asked.
‘Mmm, for three months. In Vienna.’
‘We all lived together on sabbatical there,’ Trinny explained. ‘Seven of us. In a big house.’
‘We had the best time,’ said Gemma, staring intently at me. I felt as though she was making a mental map of my face. ‘We’d all watch movies together and study late into the night, and on weekends we threw the most amazing parties. Didn’t we, Trin?’
Trinny nodded but said nothing.
‘Theo was a bit of a “player” back then, as I recall.’
Gemma actually did the air quotes.
‘He wasn’t that bad,’ Trinny interjected.
‘Oh stop! He brought a new girl home every week!’
Gemma searched my face for a reaction. A moment passed.
‘Lucky them,’ I said.
Trinny smirked and Gemma forced out a laugh that sounded uncannily like a machine gun firing.
‘Lucky them indeed,’ she said, ‘although I’m sure he’s changed now, of course. And I’m sure he’s a better housemate too! God, he was such a mess back then, wasn’t he, Trin?’
Trinny nodded.
‘He never washed the dishes. Not once!’ said Gemma.
‘Well, he always washes the dishes for me,’ I said, smiling sweetly.
Gemma smiled back. Nobody spoke. It was a Mexican smile-off.
‘I’m absolutely bursting,’ said Trinny, finally, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me off towards the toilets.
‘It was lovely to meet you, Gina,’ I called back over my shoulder.
‘Gemma,’ she corrected.
I knew.
Trinny and I chatted to one another’s reflections in the bathroom mirror as we reapplied our makeup and recovered from whatever the hell that was.
‘Is she one of Theo’s exes?’ I asked.
‘Hardly. They just slept together a few times.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘his real exes won’t speak to you; they’ll just throw daggers from across the room.’
Theo told me he’d had a few flings in college, but that none of them had ended well; they all turned out to be crazy bitches, apparently. He hadn’t spoken to any of them since.
‘I noticed a few filthy looks being thrown my way, all right,’ I said, trying to make light of it. Trinny clearly sensed my unease. She lowered her lipstick and levelled a no-nonsense look at me.
‘Look. He was a bit of a slut back then,’ she said. ‘But every guy goes through a phase like that. Just be glad Theo’s done with his.’
‘I suppose,’ I said.
‘I don’t know how you did it but you’ve … tamed him. That boy is clearly besotted with you.’
‘Really?’
‘Really!’ said Trinny. ‘He hasn’t shut up about you since that bloody Christmas party last year.’
‘He told you about that?’
‘In excruciating detail.’
Trinny gave me a withering look, then resumed applying her lipstick.
‘And you look gorgeous, by the way,’ she added through tautened lips. ‘I wish I could pull off a dress like that.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Yours is beautiful, though.’
Trinny is a willowy, flat-chested girl, who looks at all times like she might at any moment be cast in an adaptation of a Jane Austen novel. Her dress that night was considerably more conservative than mine, but nonetheless stunning.
‘Did you two ever …?’ I began, hoping I wouldn’t need to go on.
Trinny seemed confused at first, then she cracked up laughing.
‘Me and Theo? Ugh! No!’ she said, screwing up her face. ‘No offence, it’s just, he’s like an annoying little brother.’
‘Got it,’ I said, smiling. I had made a friend. More than that, I had made an ally.
‘Speaking of slutty men, what’s up with Isaac?’ I asked.
Trinny rolled her eyes.
‘We used to be together.’
Suddenly his disgustingly macho behaviour tonight made sense.
‘What happened?’ I asked.
‘One day he just ended it. Said he was wasting his twenties on me.’
I sucked in air through my teeth and winced.
‘It’s pretty obvious he’s just trying to fill a hole,’ I said.
‘From what I can tell, he’s filling many, many holes,’ she said, before throwing her lipstick back in her purse and clicking it shut.
‘Men are idiots.’
‘Agreed,’ said Trinny, ‘but not your man – you got a good one.’
She was right, I thought, Theo was a good man, and I was nothing like those crazy bitches he’d dated in college. What we had was different. What we had was lasting.
Trinny and I headed back out to the party and Theo lit up when he saw us.
‘There’s my angel now!’ he said, slipping an arm around my waist and planting a kiss on my cheek.
‘For the love of God, Theo, she was only gone five minutes,’ said Trinny.
‘Well, I missed her.’
Trinny looked at me as though to say: I told you so.
I spent the rest of the night on Theo’s arm, sipping champagne and being introduced to old friends and college professors, every one of whom spoke about him with great affection and inevitably told me some embarrassing anecdote or other before commenting on my appearance and/or heritage. The professors in particular liked to refer to me in the third person even though I was right in front of them.
‘She’s a beauty,’ said Theo’s Business professor, a boisterous, silver-haired man by the name of Hayworth.
‘She speaks
too!’ I said, with a broad smile.
‘Oh, and feisty,’ said Hayworth. ‘That’s Irish women for you.’
We all laughed but I could feel Theo cringing internally so I decided to add some fuel to the fire.
‘I come from a long line of feisty Irish women, sir,’ I said. ‘In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m related to Queen Maeve herself!’
‘Is that so?’
As a foreigner, you can tell English people pretty much anything about your culture or upbringing and they’ll believe it. Even clever, old professors.
‘Well you’ve certainly landed on your feet there,’ Hayworth said to Theo. ‘Mind you, you always did land your feet.’
He nudged me with one elbow and said, ‘This young fellow once snuck out of a third-floor window to go to a disco!’
As Theo ushered me away to our next encounter, he took my glass of champagne away.
‘No more of that for you,’ he said, jokingly. ‘And stop lying to my professors.’
I was giggling uncontrollably.
‘But he lied to me!’
‘About what?’ demanded Theo.
‘You climbing out a third-floor window!’
‘Fine,’ said Theo, handing me back my drink. ‘It was a ground-floor window. But it gets higher every time he tells that bloody story.’
I behaved myself for the rest of the night; I laughed at every joke – even the offensive ones – I didn’t curse once, and I only lied a couple more times.
We got home at 2 a.m. Understandably, Isaac’s date had chosen to leave halfway through the evening, and as soon as we got in the door, he skulked off to his room, switched the sex light off and went to sleep. Theo and I reheated some leftover curry and stayed up watching TV for hours, curled up together on the sofa in our formalwear. It reminded me of our early days in Dublin, cocooned indoors for days.
It was getting light out when we went to bed, shuffling around one another in Theo’s tiny room, trying to get undressed.
