Chapter Fifty-Four: Marjorie

Chapter Fifty-Four

Marjorie

THE HOTEL WAS BUSTLING with people; the bar was still open, a pianist played and people in expensive clothing lounged and drank expensive wines.

‘Do you want a drink?’ Davey asked.

‘No.’

‘Sure?’

‘I would like sex, please,’ Marjorie said.

‘Great. Me too.’

The room was luxurious but small.

‘It’s all they had,’ he said, apologising.

‘The bed looks good,’ she said.

He kissed her and she kissed him back, and it was slow and steamy and so much better than the night she lost her virginity to him in a park after a night spent in the pub and on hard, cold, wet ground, her only enduring memory a stabbing sensation in her vagina and a smell of shite in the air; or those other two times, the first in Rabbit’s house, a rushed and frenzied encounter which ended abruptly when a six-year-old Juliet barged in on them and Davey told her they were playing leapfrog. Then there was that last time, in her marital bed, when she was so filled with guilt and self-loathing that it was hard to breathe, never mind feel anything. They started to undress and she had her dress off before it became apparent he had no condoms.

‘Aren’t you on the pill?’

‘No. I’m single.’

‘Exactly,’ he said, and she pulled away. For fuck’s sake . . . ‘I’m not like you, Davey. I’m don’t sleep with everyone I meet.’

‘Oh come on.’ He put his hands up. ‘That’s not fair.’

‘You think I need an STD?’

‘I don’t have an STD.’

‘Well with the skanks you screw, you probably do.’

‘Oh that’s nice, using our conversations against me. I have medicals all the time, it’s part of my contract for insurance.’

Suddenly she was shaken awake. What I am doing? I’m not a child. This isn’t some fucking fantasy.

‘This was a bad idea.’

She picked up her dress and put it back on. He didn’t stop her; he just perched on the side of the bed in his underwear.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘It’s fine.’ She started to look for her shoe. ‘It’s my fault. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

The beautiful night, filled with fond memories, warmth and love was all falling to shit, and suddenly she felt desperately sad. The tears came from a reserve inside her. They flowed openly and she tried to leave, even before she’d found her stupid shoe. How hard can it be? The stupid room is the size of a postage stamp. She limped towards the door.

It didn’t take much manoeuvring from Davey to get from the bed to her. He put his arms around her and held her close, and it was only when she pulled back and looked at his face that she realised he was crying, too.