saw his naked body as a structure, no more than light and shade and a series of lines. He watched Kat flitting amongst them, nodding approval, suggesting this or that. They hung on her every word. He knew exactly how they felt.
She liked him to stay naked after the students had gone. Liked sex in the art room, the danger of it. He was always ready. She was a drug more addictive than the potent weed they smoked back at her place. She took over his head. His life. Her odd bohemian friends became his friends. When she suggested he move in, he thought why not? She paid for stuff and didn’t nag him about getting a job.
He joined a couple of her classes and found he wasn’t half bad. He was more interested in shagging her than putting in the work but it didn’t seem to matter. He was having the time of his life. Who wouldn’t love his life? It was one long party. The future was for old people. It could take care of itself.
Chapter 11
What was it with women and bathrooms? Lisa had been in there ages, leaving Joe with way too much time to think. He loitered by the window, peering out at the miserable night. How could there be so much rain? Was it ever going to stop hurling itself down the glass? Would he ever get to Cornwall? Would he get through the next few hours without giving in to temptation?
The prospect of bed was lurking in the room, like a test he had to pass. He was having major doubts. Maybe he should get back on the road and take his chances in the storm? It wouldn’t be so difficult now he’d had a rest and a shower. If all the other drivers had stopped for the night, the motorway would be empty and he could make a run for it. Yeah and probably kill himself in the process.
Lisa finally came out draped in a white towel. Christ! She wasn’t going to make it easy for him, was she? Couldn’t she have put something on? He fiddled a bit with the curtains, aware he was adjusting them so the tabs at the top were all equally spaced along the rail. He was definitely losing the plot. And she still wasn’t dressed.
“Are there any tea bags left?” she asked. “I could murder some chocolate and a cuppa.”
He wondered where she was putting it all. She’d already demolished a carvery meal which had been edible at best. And a bowl of lukewarm crumble and custard. But he jumped at the chance of a breather. He grabbed his wallet.
“I’ll go and see if the shop’s still open.”
“Really? A flake would be fab if you’re sure you don’t mind going out again in that?”
He was drenched before he’d taken a couple of steps. The sides of the walkway were open, the plastic roof no match for the driving rain. But it was a relief to be out of that room. The room with the big bed in the middle of it.
The shop was empty but for the student on the till plugged into an iPod, his head nodding along to some trance-like beat. Joe wandered round as if he was in a giant supermarket, eventually making a considered choice between two gift boxes of miniature spirits and exactly which flake bar to buy from the five on the shelf.
As he put them down at the till to pay, his elbow knocked over the promotional display. The deal of the day was a box of pencils and a sketch pad, maybe aimed at bored kids who’d sooner be watching a violent DVD. He retrieved the one from the floor, saw the wrapping had spilt so paid for it without much further thought. Then he headed reluctantly back to Lisa.
She was in bed now. Nothing on by the looks of it but at least she’d pulled the covers up to her armpits. He switched on the kettle, counting to ten as he stripped off his own wet shirt and kicked his soggy trainers under the little table. It was stifling in the room. Couldn’t even open a window.
“I’m glad we’re nice and safe in here. I was starting to get a bit scared we were going to break down in all that water.”
Safe
She liked him to stay naked after the students had gone. Liked sex in the art room, the danger of it. He was always ready. She was a drug more addictive than the potent weed they smoked back at her place. She took over his head. His life. Her odd bohemian friends became his friends. When she suggested he move in, he thought why not? She paid for stuff and didn’t nag him about getting a job.
He joined a couple of her classes and found he wasn’t half bad. He was more interested in shagging her than putting in the work but it didn’t seem to matter. He was having the time of his life. Who wouldn’t love his life? It was one long party. The future was for old people. It could take care of itself.
Chapter 11
What was it with women and bathrooms? Lisa had been in there ages, leaving Joe with way too much time to think. He loitered by the window, peering out at the miserable night. How could there be so much rain? Was it ever going to stop hurling itself down the glass? Would he ever get to Cornwall? Would he get through the next few hours without giving in to temptation?
The prospect of bed was lurking in the room, like a test he had to pass. He was having major doubts. Maybe he should get back on the road and take his chances in the storm? It wouldn’t be so difficult now he’d had a rest and a shower. If all the other drivers had stopped for the night, the motorway would be empty and he could make a run for it. Yeah and probably kill himself in the process.
Lisa finally came out draped in a white towel. Christ! She wasn’t going to make it easy for him, was she? Couldn’t she have put something on? He fiddled a bit with the curtains, aware he was adjusting them so the tabs at the top were all equally spaced along the rail. He was definitely losing the plot. And she still wasn’t dressed.
“Are there any tea bags left?” she asked. “I could murder some chocolate and a cuppa.”
He wondered where she was putting it all. She’d already demolished a carvery meal which had been edible at best. And a bowl of lukewarm crumble and custard. But he jumped at the chance of a breather. He grabbed his wallet.
“I’ll go and see if the shop’s still open.”
“Really? A flake would be fab if you’re sure you don’t mind going out again in that?”
He was drenched before he’d taken a couple of steps. The sides of the walkway were open, the plastic roof no match for the driving rain. But it was a relief to be out of that room. The room with the big bed in the middle of it.
The shop was empty but for the student on the till plugged into an iPod, his head nodding along to some trance-like beat. Joe wandered round as if he was in a giant supermarket, eventually making a considered choice between two gift boxes of miniature spirits and exactly which flake bar to buy from the five on the shelf.
As he put them down at the till to pay, his elbow knocked over the promotional display. The deal of the day was a box of pencils and a sketch pad, maybe aimed at bored kids who’d sooner be watching a violent DVD. He retrieved the one from the floor, saw the wrapping had spilt so paid for it without much further thought. Then he headed reluctantly back to Lisa.
She was in bed now. Nothing on by the looks of it but at least she’d pulled the covers up to her armpits. He switched on the kettle, counting to ten as he stripped off his own wet shirt and kicked his soggy trainers under the little table. It was stifling in the room. Couldn’t even open a window.
“I’m glad we’re nice and safe in here. I was starting to get a bit scared we were going to break down in all that water.”
Safe
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