Always Read the Label Chapter 13 Threesome

...as the catch clicks in the door we start kissing, pulling back after a while to look into each others eyes and watch ourselves enjoy each new joining together. From standing we sidestep clumsily to kneeling on the bed, face to face, touching with more than mouths now, aware that clothes are getting in the way. In pauses filled with softer kisses we reach out to each other and remove those clothes, freeing the heat and smell of anticipation, each time leaving a little more flesh glowing like a revelation in the dark. What clothes remain soon become stretched and rubbed aside as a slippery readiness swims out from the tide of touch. Standing to let me slide down the final cover which twist and bunch as they descend, she lifts her feet to step out and I lean towards the chance to taste the warmth that she has released. Her hands on the back of my head pull me further in, masking me in the soft scratch above the softness I start to explore. Bending her legs to fall into this world between sheets, she suddenly pulls herself away from my reach, abruptly reintroducing me to all that is outside her.

'I can't. I've got a boyfriend. He's in the States'.

Somebody else has just come in the room leaving me deflated at the thought of this threesome. Wiping my lips, I'm flooded with thoughts of what a strange kind of faithfulness she offers.

'Does he know you go to bed with other people?'

'I don't. I mean this is the first time. I've been seeing him for about five years. I used to live over there with him, in New York. But the last year I've been back over here and we see less and less of each other, even the phone calls have started to dry up.

There's an anger that I've been led astray and a need for a plan to get back on track.

'So all this is OK, but we have to stop at where we are now?'

'I don't know, like I said I've never done this before, I thought I could forget him. I wanted to'.

I hear as we sit and think about what's just happened, two sets of giggles drifting through from the front room.

'Do you still want to stay or is it goodnight Vienna?'

She looks down at the sheets and I follow her eyes, realising that the moment is lost and they really could do with a wash. Launderette at the weekend.

'I do. but this is as far as we can go tonight. You must understand?'

I do, but not the 'for tonight', which hints at future plans which have, until now, not been made or mentioned.
'Come here'.

She moves back to my arms and fearing another rejection I kiss her nose and hold her, softly adding, 'there's always something...'

She puts her head on my chest and pushes the hair off her face,looking me in the eye as she tries to explain:

'I know. It's like I knew it had all but ended, but had to see if I really believed it. You're the first person I've done this with and all it's told me is I'm unsure. I stopped loving Josh years ago. But we both just clung to it. An iceberg that gets smaller and smaller till one of us is forced to let go'.

I know what she means about clinging. But not why I start to think it's like clothes that don't fit any more which you can't bring yourself to throw out, thinking something will change and you can wear them again.

I stroke her back and get resigned to sleep, telling her it's OK, for which I get a peck on the cheek and a 'thanks'. We stay closely apart like this, separately thinking about where we are and if we should be here, when a tapping on the door makes us both look up.

I climb across Emma and put the sheet back over her while becoming really conscious of being naked, inadequately cupping myself with my hands as I stand. I open the door just a crack to see Simon in his t shirt and boxer shorts.

'Have you got any johnnies I can borrow?'

Looks like I won't be needing them, so I pick them up from beside the bed and pass them through the door onto Simon's palm.

'Thanks. You should see what we've done to Beeb'.

Not really in the mood to guess, I just close the door on him, removing one covering hand as I do so.

'Don't hide it. I'm still interested. We've said what I can't do, but there's plenty I will'.

She reaches out and moves my hands to drag me down and show me what she means.

We must have been the first awake and keen to chase away the silence that rode in with the honest light of morning. We've been finding out a bit more about each other after last nights examination was cut short. Not that short in the end after I was dragged back into bed, but we're both keen to change the subject now. Emma works at an Accountancy firm and hates it. Every sad and chargeable second that she's there. I'm sat rolling her a joint which she's insisted will just about make the day bearable. We smoke it realising half way through that its not a good idea, but she insists it's better than doing sums all day surrounded by boring, leering snobs. We get dressed in an embarrassed way, both looking in different directions, then creep through to the kitchen where I'm praying there's some food.

In the front room is a balled up sheet with a snoring face peeping out from the far edge. Drawn in marker pen on its coma-white face are some crude glasses and a moustache. That's what Simon was on about then. I beckon Emma over to see and she giggles in the way that a morning joint demands. It looks ridiculous, so maybe it's not just the joint. We start to make some toast and put the kettle on.

I freeze at the letterbox ratatattatting against the door. I look at Emma and remember she doesn't know what's been going on, apart from stepping over the paint on her way in, then walk towards the sound. I pick up a hammer before asking who it is.

'Helen. I'm here to see Simon'. I guess this is not as bad as it could have been. At least for me. I decide: open the door and then try to guide Helen, who I've never met, away from Simon's bedroom to the kitchen. I open the door to a small girl with a rucksack on her back who pushes roughly into the flat and heads into the first room on the right, which is my room. Finding it empty she then opens the next door along. Which is Simon's room. You can start the countdown to the explosion now. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4...

'What the hell is happening here?' shrieks off the walls, just as I get to the kitchen. I make an exaggerated gulp to Emma who grimaces, just before the volume cranks up. We hear a louder 'get out' and 'what the hell are you playing at?', followed by 'yes I think that would be best'.

Polly soon joins us, clutching her clothes while wrapped in a duvet, accompanied by the sound of Simon's door being slammed from down the hall. I turn to let Polly dress and see that the slamming has woken Beeb. He sits up with his home-made Groucho Marx disguise looking so ridiculous even Polly lets out a laugh as she tries to cover herself behind me.

'What the hell was that banging. Thought a bloody bomb had gone off. Any tea on the go?'

Welcome back Beeb. Don't think you've met Simon's girlfriend who's just arrived. And introduced herself by screaming and banging doors. I take him a tea with the last drop of milk. Then Polly wants a cup, so I volunteer to go down and get some milk, but Beeb springs to life, slips his shoes on and heads out the door. I ask Polly if she's alright.

'Yeah. Not the first time. But the lying rat said he was single'.

I don't tell her he even borrowed the johnnies, quickly changing the subject to Beeb and his doodled face.

'That was Simon. Thought it'd be funny. Did you know he had a girlfriend?

'Yeah. But I've never met her. Until now. If you'd have asked me I'd have said'.

'Bit late now. Why have you got a hammer on the table?'

I offer her Beeb's tea then jump at the chance to answer the door when there's a knock.

'I'm sure I'm smoking too much dope. It must be that Sputnik. I went into the shop and felt like people were really staring at me.

Last night has now split into three neat groups. Simon has some explaining to do and now has no choice who is in his group. Polly has offered Beeb a lift back to to North London, mainly because she couldn't resist seeing how many people notice his face on the journey, before he does. We're stood at the station, Emma heading West and me East. She offers me one of her business cards, which she hates, adding her home phone number. I take it and start to explain that we don't have a phone yet when her train appears. I give her an awkward peck and a promise to phone soon.

The day at work was shit. Unusually more shit than usual. I was hungover and had started the day with a spliff. What did I imagine? I got home to see Simon sat in the front room, waiting for the next round of his interrogation to begin. I almost felt sorry for him as Helen crept back in the room, the signal being I should leave. I went to the launderette and while waiting for the machines to eat my coins and get my sheets semi clean, I read the NME. There' a gig tomorrow in Camden by a new band I'd been reading about over the last few months. I fancy that. When I get home the next night to ongoing further peace talks, and Simon in exactly the same seat in the front room, I had no choice but to go. Off I headed for the train.

The venue's tiny, smelly and nearly empty. I try to act like I expected this and head the the bar where I'm boredly served a watered down pint which I carry to a table, wishing I had a book to read or anything else to hide behind, even a mask. I settle on blowing silent smoke rings into the air. A few more people arrive. I start to feel a bit more uneasy as they pair off with others dotted around the room ignoring my unique skills with cigarettes.

I'm adding up the 'is it worth staying when I look like a freak with no friends' nervousness sum when a drink gets put on the table and I get greeted with a familiar sounding 'alright'. Polly. Who I'm so grateful to see I regret almost scaring away with a 'didn't recognise you with your clothes on' jibe.

'How is the rat?' Wanting to hear the answer to this forces her to stay.

'Still in peace talks. They've been going on since we left that morning. Do you know tonight's band?

'Hope she's giving him hell. Yeah. I had their demo a bit back. I like them. I think your friend Beeb will have that pen on his face forever. Do you want another?'

She heads off to get them and when I look to see her at the bar I see a waving Kevin, or Moose as he prefers.

'You look miles away I was waving for ages. Been carrying this around hoping I'd bump into you soon. Here you go'.

It's the promised tape of stuff I ought to have heard but can't as easily steal as he can. I say thanks and ask him what took him so long in making it.

'Ha ha. Typical Northern sarcasm. It's got loads of stuff on it. Stuff that you'll love and stuff that we're trying to get our band to sound like. It's just me and Russell and a load of ideas at the minute, but Chris said you played drums? Let us know what you think of the tape and if you fancy giving it a go. No problem if it's not your cup of tea. We're looking to get a three piece together to start with'.

My second chance this week to join in a threesome.