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Chapters (11)
  1. Cover
  2. Colophon
  3. Praise for The Story of the Night
  4. Also by Colm Tóibín
  5. Title Page
  6. Copyright
  7. Dedication
  8. PART ONE
  9. PART TWO
  10. PART THREE
  11. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

When we arrived at the station, Jorge and Pablo insisted on getting out of the car and coming into the station with me in case I had to wait too long. I bought my ticket in the old-fashioned waiting room of the station, discovering that a train was due in the next ten minutes, and then I put my foot up on a bench to tie my shoelace. Jorge was reading the timetable. I glanced at Pablo and grinned as I put my other foot on the bench. He looked at me as though nothing had happened, and then he smiled too. I told them I was fine now, I did not need them to wait. I said that I would see them the following week and told them to thank their mother again for the dinner. As they turned I stood watching them, waiting to see if Pablo would look back, but he did not. I walked out and stood at the door as they got into the car. Pablo kept his eyes on me as they drove away. Jorge waved at me, and then I turned and sat on the bench in the waiting room.

PART THREE

For days afterward I thought about him. I imagined him in bed beside me, fast asleep with his back to me. When I woke in the morning I felt warm and hopeful. I imagined him turning and slowly waking, his face curling into a smile, his tongue wet and supple in my mouth, as though he had woken only to desire. I put my arms around him, feeling the soft smooth skin on the side of his body and then the hair on his chest. I imagined him getting out of the bed to go to the toilet; I pictured myself watching him.

I phoned his house as usual and I spoke to his father or to Jorge, but never to him. I waited. I thought he would answer the phone one day and I would say that maybe we should meet, or ask him if he would be in the city soon. I hoped that he would phone me, or find some excuse to call at the office or the apartment. Maybe, I thought, what happened in the car was merely a teasing gesture, maybe even a gesture of contempt saying look what I could do to you. I felt the way a teenager must feel when he falls in love with a girl for the first time: I felt excitement and fear and insecurity.