acknowledged as hunger. This, at least, she could do
something about. Taking off the short purple dress she had put on
that morning after showering in the hotel room all those miles
away, Tamsin crawled into the banana-yellow SpongeBob pyjamas her
brother had bought her for Christmas and ambled downstairs in
search of sustenance.
The kitchen was tidy
save for a few dishes and scattered morning toast crumbs, which,
out of habit, she began to wipe and clear up while opening the
large fridge and various cupboards looking for precisely the kind
food she needed when she was in this mood.
Taking a tub of
chicken-and-mushroom instant noodles from the larder, Tamsin
switched the kettle on, and put a peach, a knife, fork and spoon,
teacup and teabag, and an open packet of Bombay mix on to a large
tray. After adding water to the noodles, she carried the lot into
the lounge, sat down in front of the television, and, with
deliberation, switched off her mind entirely.
7. Alasdair
Alasdair, in
contrast, had known he was hungry from the moment he woke up.
Indeed, his suggestion that they go down for breakfast declined, he
had been almost impatient for the girl’s train to arrive so that he
could nip back to the hotel before 10.30am, when they stopped
serving.
He was in luck.
Three cups of weak
black coffee, a fine fresh fruit salad and a superb Eggs Benedict
later, Alasdair had his small backpack over his shoulder once again
and was all but skipping back to the station he had so recently
left.
With his train not due
until 2.16pm, he picked up a copy of The Guardian and set himself
down in the waiting room. Around 6pm, after an uneventful journey,
he walked back through his own front door, splashed two fingers of
12-year-old Dalmore into a crystal glass, added one more for luck,
then downed it.
By 9.30, having
settled into an evening’s drinking of similar gusto, he was aware
that his best was behind him for the night, but there was one more
move yet to be completed before he could retire to the familiarity
of his own bed. Even drunk, Alasdair had a keen awareness of his
own boundaries, and thus he trusted himself enough to sit down and
write, despite his condition.
My dear
Tamsin,
It was an
absolute joy to meet you and I’m glad we had the chance to enjoy
one another on mutually comfortable ground before moving on to what
I hope will be our glorious next stage. I can’t stress highly
enough just how much your Meister was delighted with his first
taste of that delicious wee cunt of yours. You can be very
proud.
But… we both know that
wasn’t enough for you and that your journey has only just begun.
I’ll let you get some well-deserved rest now. You know what you
want and you know how to get it. I’m here when you’re ready.
Alasdair
XxxX
He pressed
send.
Tamsin, meanwhile,
left her phone uncharged so she could ignore all outside
distractions, and settled into the Friday night habit of takeaway
pizzas and puddings with her family. Skirting over her mother’s
seemingly offhand questions about her Manchester trip, in a way
that politely but firmly told her to back off, they enjoyed a
family argument over the choice of on-demand movie before she
eventually drifted off to sleep on the couch while life went
comfortably and normally on around her.
It was well into the
next day before she switched on her phone, still lying in bed.
Eight texts from her friend Ethan, the only other person who had
known of her plans, and the only person, she thought, who would
even vaguely understand her explorations.
“ You there yet,
hun?”
“ So… tell me
the goss….”
“ What’s yer old
guy like? Did he bring the tardis?”
“ Too tied up to
reply?”
“ Sorry, babe.
Don’t mean to take the piss… let me know how it’s going, right?
X”
“ You
okay?”
“ Busy?
Xx”
“ Home? Don’t
tell me… you’ve run off to Scotland… Text me!”
PhetX updates,
voucher offers and Amazon recommendations made up the bulk of
something about. Taking off the short purple dress she had put on
that morning after showering in the hotel room all those miles
away, Tamsin crawled into the banana-yellow SpongeBob pyjamas her
brother had bought her for Christmas and ambled downstairs in
search of sustenance.
The kitchen was tidy
save for a few dishes and scattered morning toast crumbs, which,
out of habit, she began to wipe and clear up while opening the
large fridge and various cupboards looking for precisely the kind
food she needed when she was in this mood.
Taking a tub of
chicken-and-mushroom instant noodles from the larder, Tamsin
switched the kettle on, and put a peach, a knife, fork and spoon,
teacup and teabag, and an open packet of Bombay mix on to a large
tray. After adding water to the noodles, she carried the lot into
the lounge, sat down in front of the television, and, with
deliberation, switched off her mind entirely.
7. Alasdair
Alasdair, in
contrast, had known he was hungry from the moment he woke up.
Indeed, his suggestion that they go down for breakfast declined, he
had been almost impatient for the girl’s train to arrive so that he
could nip back to the hotel before 10.30am, when they stopped
serving.
He was in luck.
Three cups of weak
black coffee, a fine fresh fruit salad and a superb Eggs Benedict
later, Alasdair had his small backpack over his shoulder once again
and was all but skipping back to the station he had so recently
left.
With his train not due
until 2.16pm, he picked up a copy of The Guardian and set himself
down in the waiting room. Around 6pm, after an uneventful journey,
he walked back through his own front door, splashed two fingers of
12-year-old Dalmore into a crystal glass, added one more for luck,
then downed it.
By 9.30, having
settled into an evening’s drinking of similar gusto, he was aware
that his best was behind him for the night, but there was one more
move yet to be completed before he could retire to the familiarity
of his own bed. Even drunk, Alasdair had a keen awareness of his
own boundaries, and thus he trusted himself enough to sit down and
write, despite his condition.
My dear
Tamsin,
It was an
absolute joy to meet you and I’m glad we had the chance to enjoy
one another on mutually comfortable ground before moving on to what
I hope will be our glorious next stage. I can’t stress highly
enough just how much your Meister was delighted with his first
taste of that delicious wee cunt of yours. You can be very
proud.
But… we both know that
wasn’t enough for you and that your journey has only just begun.
I’ll let you get some well-deserved rest now. You know what you
want and you know how to get it. I’m here when you’re ready.
Alasdair
XxxX
He pressed
send.
Tamsin, meanwhile,
left her phone uncharged so she could ignore all outside
distractions, and settled into the Friday night habit of takeaway
pizzas and puddings with her family. Skirting over her mother’s
seemingly offhand questions about her Manchester trip, in a way
that politely but firmly told her to back off, they enjoyed a
family argument over the choice of on-demand movie before she
eventually drifted off to sleep on the couch while life went
comfortably and normally on around her.
It was well into the
next day before she switched on her phone, still lying in bed.
Eight texts from her friend Ethan, the only other person who had
known of her plans, and the only person, she thought, who would
even vaguely understand her explorations.
“ You there yet,
hun?”
“ So… tell me
the goss….”
“ What’s yer old
guy like? Did he bring the tardis?”
“ Too tied up to
reply?”
“ Sorry, babe.
Don’t mean to take the piss… let me know how it’s going, right?
X”
“ You
okay?”
“ Busy?
Xx”
“ Home? Don’t
tell me… you’ve run off to Scotland… Text me!”
PhetX updates,
voucher offers and Amazon recommendations made up the bulk of
Similar Books
