deeper
So, yeah, I met Tim again. He took me to a
restaurant: wow. I mean, wow. The bar in Manchester was nice. This
place pissed all over that one. It was gorgeous. Actually, it was
scary. The chairs were covered with velvet. I mean, they must get
food on them all the time, velvet chairs, and I guess they just
whisk them off and get them re-covered just like that. Anyway.
The meal was fun but because Tim had to take a call,
we ended up in his room for coffee. 'For coffee' - I could hear
Linda dripping the words into my ears. But I thought well, hey,
I've got to let things happen to me. If you're going to be a writer,
you've got to live. A little.
So he was on the phone, and I was wandering round
the room when the bomb dropped. Well, actually it was his wallet.
Splayed on the floor with a picture inside: an wife, two nearly
grown-up kids; Tim, grinning, his faded hair blowing across his
forehead.
He'd told me he didn't have a family.
- Why did you lie?
- Because you wouldn't be here if I hadn't.
I didn't expect that. Honesty. I expected bluster
and defensiveness.
-Do you think I'm stupid?
-I think you're young. And gentle. And kind. And honest. And that's
why you're going to leave right now.
He picked up my coat and bag and started opening the
door for me. He looked hurt, and crestfallen, and sad. There was
something in the way he looked at me - so disappointed, that made
me feel daring; powerful. He wanted me.
So I kissed him.
I still don't know why, but I did. It wasn't that
sexy - dry, all lip and skin. But it was charged. It was a moment.
He liked me and I could see that this wasn't going to be bony fumbles
in the backs of cars, or dodgy dates in empty offices.
I said we could meet again. We're going to the Ivy
for lunch next week. He said I'd need some smarter shoes. He said
he'd buy them for me.
You know what?
I think I'm starting to like him.
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