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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