David Lodge by David Lodge Page B

bathrobe.
    After he had left, Sally snickered.
    “What?” said Robin.
    “Jo's got nothing on.”
    “Really nothing?”
    “Not a stitch.”
     
    Desmond knocked on the door of the girls' room. There was no reply, so he put his head around the door. Joanna was asleep, with her back towards him. Her buttocks, white against her tan, shone palely, like twin moons, in the shuttered room. He hastily closed the door and stood still in the corridor, his heart thumping. Then he knocked again, more firmly.
    “What? Who is it?”
    “It's me - Des.”
    “Just a mo. All right.”
    He went in. Joanna had covered herself with a sheet. She was flushed and her hair was stuck to her forehead with perspiration. “Is it time to get up?” she asked.
    “No. Rob and Sal are larking about in our room, so I've come to have my siesta in here.”
    “Oh.”
    “Is that all right?”
    “Make yourself at home.”
    Desmond lay down on Sally's bed in the attitude of a soldier standing to attention.
    “You don't look very relaxed,” said Joanna.
    “Can I lie down with you?”
    “All right.” He was across the room in a flash. “As long as you stay outside the sheet,” she added.
    “Why?”
    “I've got nothing on.”
    “Haven't you?”
    “It's so hot.”
    “It is, isn't it.” Desmond shook off his bathrobe.
    “ And so they make a group that's quite antique ...”
    “What?”
    “ Half-naked, loving, natural and Greek .” Joanna blushed slightly. “Byron.”
    “Him again! Pretty sexy type, wasn't he?”
    “Yes, he was, as a matter of fact.”
    “Like me,” said Desmond complacently, stroking Joanna through the sheet.
     
    The next day, after lunch, there was a little embarrassed hesitation on the landing before they separated for the siesta. Then Desmond said to Robin, “Why don't you go in Sally's room this time?” and a few moments later Robin and Joanna passed each other in the corridor wearing bathrobes and bashful smiles. The same thing happened the next day, and the day after that. They formed a silent, thoughtful group over the late-night coffee. The communal cuddle was a rather perfunctory ritual now: all had tasted headier pleasures in the afternoon. Afterwards they found it difficult to sleep in their hot, dark bedrooms.
     
    “Des...”
    “Mmm?”
    “Have you ever, you know...?”
    “What?”
    “Done it with a girl.”
    After a longish pause, Desmond answered. “I don't know.”
    Robin sat up in his bed. “Either you have or you haven't!”
    “I tried once, but I don't think I did it properly.”
    “What, you and Jo?”
    “Good God, no!”
    “Who then?”
    “I've forgotten her name. It was years ago, I was camping, with the scouts, in the Dales. These two local girls used to hang about the camp at night. Me and this other chap went for a walk with them one night. The one I was with suddenly said, 'You can do me if you like.'”
    “Ye gods,” Robin breathed enviously.
    “It was sopping wet on the ground, so we stood up against a tree. I kept slipping on the roots and I couldn't see a damn thing. Afterwards she said, 'Well I wouldn't give thee a badge for that, lad.'”
    Robin laughed aloud and gratefully.
    “What about you?” Desmond inquired.
    Robin was glum again. “Never.”
    “What made you ask?”
    “These afternoons with Sal. It's driving me mad.”
    “I know. We nearly went the whole way today.”
    “So did we.”
    “We'd better give it some serious thought.”
    “I think about it all the time.”
    “I mean precautions.”
    “Oh. Yes, I suppose it would be risky.”
    “Risky!”
    “You didn't bring any with you, I suppose, what d'you call 'em...”
    “French letters?”
    “That's right.”
    “Me?”
    “Well someone of your experience...”
    “What experience?”
    “In the scouts.”
    “Don't be daft.”
    “What shall we do, then?”
    “We could try the local shops.”
    “Hmm.” Robin was doubtful. “Catholic country, you know. Probably illegal. Anyway, what are they