by Ella Craig
‘You’ll kiss my arse for insulting my woman.’ Jim shadowboxed around Dan.
‘What a wonderful idea,’ said Dan. He dived at Jim and bit him on the bum then wrestled him into a headlock. ‘Welcome one and all, mi casa es su casa, but drink my beer and you’re dead.’ Dan patted Jim on the head, then whirled on Kath and lifted her up. ‘Kathryn Beck, I presume. Where have you been?’
‘Hiding from you. Put me down, please, the right way up.’ Kath had forgotten Dan’s love of everything physical.
‘You don’t escape that easily.’ Dan flung her over his shoulder and marched into the house. ‘Yoo-hoo, everyone, I just found the lesser spotted twittering Beck.’
Kath hit the settee with such force; it knocked the breath out of her. Through flashing lights and a pile of cushions, she saw people staring at her. How embarrassing.
‘Hi Kath, how are you?’ An angular face came into focus.
‘Allie?’
‘No, Sue.’
‘Crikey! You don’t half resemble your sister now; lose some more weight, and you’ll be just as pretty as her.’ Kath ground to a halt, realising this might not be the most tactful way to compliment her friend.
‘Only if I resort to plastic surgery,’ Sue joked, not seeming to mind Kath’s bluntness. ‘Come on; the booze is in the kitchen.’
The kitchen doorway held a writhing mass of bodies, trying to get to the drinks. Sue waded in leaving Kath in the hall. A gnome-like creature appeared at her side. It wore a double-breasted suit and carried a six-pack of beer.
‘Kath, Kathy, Kathryn,’ it said. ‘Out of hibernation at last. Let us partake of a drink to celebrate such a momentous occasion.’
‘Blimey, Mickey, are you full of shit or what?’ Kath took the proffered can. ‘But I’ve been busy, not hibernating.’ She stared hard at him. ‘What is that on your face?’
‘A moustache,’ Mickey said with dignity. ‘They are all the rage for lips, so I am told.’
‘It makes you look like one of the Ant Hill Mob.’
‘That’s what I told him. Hiya, Kath.’ Allie, Mickey’s wife, came over. She did indeed share the same cheekbones and the fair colouring of her sister. Although Allie’s blondness came from a bottle, and no amount of dieting would give Sue the same delicate, airy appearance of Allie. ‘Long time no see.’ She gave Kath a warm hug. ‘I hear you moved out of your parents’ place, where are you living now?’
‘In the flat above my uncle’s shop.’
‘Is that the junk shop on Looe Street, a few doors down from the Minerva pub?’
‘Yes, but we prefer to say second-hand shop unless we are trying to impress, and then we say antique emporium.’
‘How long have you been there?’ Sue joined them.
‘Since the end of September.’
‘And you never invited us to your flat warming party,’ said Dan, the rugby playing, beer monster of a party animal.
‘I never had one; I had to do a lot of work to make it fit to invite people over.’ Apart from the one person, I moved in to see more of, thought Kath.
‘Why didn’t you say,’ said Allie, ‘We would have helped.’ A babble of agreement met this.
Why didn’t I? Answer: Because I didn’t want anyone around in case Tony got away at short notice.
‘I enjoyed setting up the place on my own.’ She smiled to cover the lie. ‘I’ll organise a belated flat warming for you all.’
Their reaction reassured her; they still wanted to be friends, including Barry, who gave her a shy wave from behind the pantry door. But where was his odd chum? You couldn’t miss him, but the lanky streak of piss with fluffy blond hair and eyes the colour of springtime was nowhere in sight.
‘Mickey, where is Miles? I thought he would be here.’
‘I’m afraid Miles has delayed his return for a few more weeks.’
Disappointed, Kath drained her can in one, and Mickey obligingly passed her another. She so looked forward to seeing Miles. It was the real reason she came.
‘I miss him.’
‘Do you?’ Mickey waggled his eyebrows at her before melting back into the crowd.
Before Kath could work out what Mickey meant, a cloud of Chanel No.5 assaulted her nostrils.
‘Liz, how good to see you again,’ Kath lied.
Liz slithered into view, a stretch mark in high heels. ‘Hello, Kathy,’ she purred. ‘We have missed you.’
Kath gritted her teeth, why did this woman always make her feel like a soldier on parade inspection. As if Liz was comparing her to an internal ideal and finding her wanting, even now, she had a calculating look on her face.
‘I am glad to be back with all my friends.’ Kath was never sure how to handle Liz, so she went on the attack. ‘Are you here with your husband, this time?’ She gave Liz a sweet smile.
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Liz returned the smile. ‘Come over here, John, an old friend of yours is dying to say hello.’ Her smile widened as she turned back to Kath. ‘At least I have someone to bring to parties. It is a shame when you can’t keep a man, isn’t it?’
Kath somehow kept her smile in the face of Liz’s provocative stare. She suspected this hostility stemmed from the time when they first met Liz. Kath and John had been in a half-hearted relationship, but there were no tears or recriminations, only relief when he took up with Liz.
John appeared, and he greeted her with unfeigned pleasure. Although as soon as he said his piece, she knew he would fade into the background. Liz would take centre stage and John would only enter the action to light his wife’s cigarettes or hand her a drink.
Liz and Kath made polite small talk, or rather, Liz did, leaving Kath to nod and smile in the right places. Kath prayed for rescue. She saw Dave and Julie arrive, but they pointedly ignored her. She hoped a more amenable friend might come to her aid, but resigned herself to waiting for Liz to get bored and wander off.
It was past eleven, and the pub crowd were filtering in. Doors and windows were flung open against the intense heat, and the house vibrated along with the tortured bass line of the music playing in the lounge. Crushed quiche and vol-au-vents carpeted the floors. There were clusters of sticky rings from bottles and glasses over the tables. Some idiot set fire to the blind in the bathroom and tried to put it out with the shower curtain, leaving the washbasin a study in molten plastic.
Sue, Allie, Jenny and Kath ran through the house collecting anything flammable. They dumped everything in a bedroom and collapsed on the pile giggling. Then they made a mockery of their health and safety efforts by rolling a huge joint and smoking it.
‘Are you sure you should have this?’ Jenny passed the spliff to Sue. ‘You might get the munchies and put the weight back on.’
Sue took a long drag. ‘This is good stuff, but I will be cutting back soon.’ She took another hit. ‘Me and Dan moved out here because we want somewhere nicer than the city to raise our children.’
‘You’re never pregnant?’ Allie’s voice rose in delight.
‘Not yet, but give it a few more hours.’
‘I’m going to be an aunty.’ Allie took the joint from Sue and passed it to Kath. ‘I’ll have that back when I calm down.’
Kath took it, feeling like a child playing at being an adult, out of her depth and out of her mind. Sue sounded so mature and confident, both she and Allie unafraid of the future. Jenny took it in her stride by rolling another joint. ‘Got to celebrate the first possible pregnancy amongst us.’
Kath ensured she smoked more than her fair share, hoping it would make her less uptight. It worked; she began to enjoy herself, catching up on gossip (John and Liz weren’t going to Wolverhampton, pity!) and avoiding groups of people discussing mortgages and personal agendas. Jim ambushed her with a jug of lemonade and Dave squirted her with a water pistol, no doubt in revenge for throwing up in his car. Sue lent her a dry shirt on the first occasion but gave up after the second drenching. Kath fused a hair dryer trying to dry her crowning glory and left it in a damp plait
down her back.
She sat at the foot of the stairs at a loss for anything to do and anyone to play with. Jenny and Jim had disappeared, and everyone else was in cosy twosomes. Except for Julie, who was in the kitchen doing the dishes. Where she can stay on her own, Kath decided, you don’t rescue me so I won’t rescue you. On the landing above her, Dan noisily tried to convince John to join his rugby club, and John was just as noisily refusing. Can’t take the risk of exposing Liz to a load of well-built young men, Kath thought acidly. But, where was Liz?
Kath spotted her inside the dining room where she had cornered Barry, the best-looking man at the party, and the most unobtainable. Many of her female friends and some of her male ones had made a pass at Barry, but no one succeeded. You had to hand it to Liz; she never gave up. The woman had the tenacity of a mink, and the looks of one with her slick, dark hair, a slight overbite and pointy nose. Kath squinted until her eyes crossed, and made Liz’s resemblance to a weasel even more frightening.
‘Hello.’
She turned and focused on a pair of leather trousers. Inside them was a familiar man. His black hair was a touch bouffant, but his brown eyes were gorgeous.
‘I’m Darren,’ he introduced himself. ‘We met Sunday at Jim’s gig.’
‘I remember.’ This is the bloke Jenny said fancies me! When did she last giggle and flirt with a man? Too long ago! Kath twanged her old skills back into shape.
‘You were a little drunk.’ He seemed to vibrate, a walking pylon earthed in leather.
‘A man let me down.’ Kath thought she heard a snort.
‘Oh,’ his face fell. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’
‘No one special,’ she reassured him with a smile.
‘You can say that again,’ Jenny’s voice floated down the stairs, the rest of her followed. ‘Darren, me old mucker, glad you could make it, I’ll introduce you to your hosts if I can find them.’
‘Don’t bother; I’m sure Kate can do that.’
‘Kath not Kate.’
Darren was swift with his apologies. He passed her a hip flask filled with rum and Kath beamed forgiveness at him. Jenny took the hint before Kath gave it and disappeared, leaving Kath and Darren to engage in small talk. This turned up to be far more pleasant than, and not as boring as, chatting with Liz.
Kath discovered he was twenty-seven, worked for an insurance firm and enjoyed karate as a hobby. The hair was natural unlike his reserves of nervous energy. Was he on something? He didn’t keep still always talking or moving. Kath let him blather on, but when the conversation edged close to asking her out, she claimed a sudden need for a wee and ran off. She didn’t want the loo, but pride, dignity and teenage training had taught her to never give in at the first instance. She scampered off to hide in a dark corner for a while.
The outhouse made the perfect hiding place; it also had somewhere to sit. How long should she wait? She took a swig of rum, oops! But it gave her an excuse to talk to him again. What were the old rules? Kath couldn’t remember; she was out of practice. Darren appeared keen but how soon before he tried his charms on another female? Saying yes was a foregone conclusion, but the timing had to be right. Five more minutes should be enough, then re-join the party, find Darren, drag him up to dance and make one last disappearance. It wouldn’t be prudent to push her luck too far with this one.
She drained the flask and pushed her way through the back door into the kitchen. She found Darren talking to Jim with Liz bearing down on them, the lure of fresh meat too strong for her to resist. Definitely time for action, Kath crept up behind them and kicked Jim in the back of the knees. He collapsed, spilling his drink down his front.
‘Gotcha, teach you to mess with me, sonny Jim.’
‘This only makes us even. Please excuse me, ladies, whilst I remove my shirt.’ Smooth dark skin, gleamed over just the right amount of muscle.
Kath caught her breath. Jenny wasn’t kidding; he had a gorgeous body. Liz thought so too. Kath watched her inspect both men, trying to decide who would be the best tasting dish. To Kath’s annoyance, she settled on Darren. A racist streak or a practical one, Kath wondered. Darren was showing an obvious interest in her, which would be enough of a red flag for Liz. Whatever Liz’s reasoning, revenge would be sweet.
‘Darren, do you want to dance?’ Kath did a little shoulder shimmy to entice him.
He jumped forward, grabbed her hand, and they plunged into the lounge. Darren’s alacrity and the annoyance on Liz’s face made Kath’s evening. She hoped Jim had the sense to make his escape before coming under Liz’s predatory gaze again.
The heat in the lounge made sweat pour off Kath, but she smiled at Darren, and they began to dance. At first, with some reserve, but soon they moved in perfect, restless harmony, teasing and playing with each other with rhythm. The air between them crackled with unrestrained sexual energy. This was true lust, her mind made love, while her body acted out her thoughts.
Kath’s pent-up frustrations spewed out in her frantic gyrations. She wanted to bite and scratch him, to rut with him. The depths of her feelings startled her. She had never experienced desire like this before for anyone; this was a primaeval instinct, the urge to fuck.
Out of control, uncontrollable, she danced her needs, snarling and growling. The dampness between her legs had nothing to do with the heat of the room. Darren’s trousers strained across his crotch. She moved to him and rubbed her body against his groin, clutching his leg between her thighs. It was so sudden when panting and moaning she came. Kath clutched him to her, if he had stepped away, she would have fallen to the floor in a spasmodic heap.
She held him tight until both Darren, and the front of his trousers, relaxed. She pulled back and looked at him. He had his eyes closed with flared nostrils and his lips drawn back over his teeth. It gave him a feral look as repellent as it was attractive.
‘I need some air,’ he panted and then stumbled from the room.
Kath staggered from the lounge to the outhouse. What was all that about? She had just met Darren, and here she was behaving like a bitch in heat. Nothing like this happened to her during sex with Tony, so why a major orgasm fully clothed on a dance floor? It must be the dope. That always gave her amazing body rushes and a case of the munchies. Usually, a couple of bowls of cornflakes and half a loaf of bread sated her appetite, not a public frottage session.
Despite the chill, her body burned and there was a raw ache between her legs. Her clitoris throbbed and, with a shaking hand, she rubbed herself. It happened again in an explosion of pure pleasure leaving Kath physically and mentally exhausted. She had unleashed something new.
This was her missing link! It might prove difficult to find on occasion, but now she knew what to look for. Why had this never happened before, too many cold baths, sharing a room with her sister or just a slow developer? She should send Darren a thank-you card.
Darren! She ought to find him, but didn’t want to move. He would have to wait. Anyway, he was hers now, no more silly games although she hoped he wouldn’t expect a repeat performance too soon. With a grin, Kath hoisted herself up. She rearranged her clothes and prepared to leave when she heard someone outside. Don’t let it be Darren, please.
There were two people out there, and Kath earwigged on their conversation, hoping for juicy gossip, but the essence of it was footy, cars and beer. Boring man talk, Kath lost interest and tried to re-plait her hair. It was a tangled mess after her dance with Darren. She was only half listening when the subject of totty came up. Kath stopped fiddling with her hair. The women at the party were being discussed in frank, and to Kath, derogatory terms. She was tempted to burst out and embarrass the speakers until a voice spoke quite clearly.
‘Did you see that performance on the dance floor?’
‘What performance?’ Both voices sounded familiar, but she couldn’t put names or faces to either of them.
‘Kathryn Beck and the bloke in the leather trousers,’ said First Voice. (Bloody hell, they were talking about
her, cheeky sods.) ‘Christ, they were practically shagging each other.’ Dirty laughter.
‘What, Ball-breaker Beck?’
(Ball-breaker?)
‘Yeah, fucking amazing to watch. Got me hot!’ She recognised First Voice now, Alan something or the other but known as Big Al. They went to the same school; she’d never liked him much then.
‘Oy, mate!’ Alan raised his voice. ‘Yeah, you in the leather.’
Oh no, Darren! Go on, open the door; stop this before it gets any worse. Move, you silly cow! The mind willing, but the flesh weak, Kath stayed to listen.
‘You talking to me.’ Darren still sounded a little breathless.
‘I ain’t chewing a brick.’ (Now she remembered why she disliked Alan.) ‘Come and have a chat with us. We want to know how you melted Iceberg-Becker.’ More sniggering greeted this one.
‘Who?’ said Darren.
‘Kathryn Beck. We figured it would take the Titanic to have an effect on her.’ Alan laughed at his own wit and Second Voice joined in.
‘It’s like this, mate.’ Alan was gearing up for a man-to-man chat. Kath imagined him laying a meaty arm around Darren’s shoulders. ‘Our Kathryn has herself a reputation, you understand.’
(Reputation! As what?)
‘No, I don’t understand.’ There was confusion in Darren’s voice.
‘Ade, you explain to him.’ She should have guessed, Adrian Price, the one boyfriend she had at school. He deserved Alan for a friend. Tweedle-dumb and Tweedle-dumber.
‘Kath has an interesting reputation,’ said Ade, enjoying his moment in the spotlight. ‘At school, she went out with me for three months then she never went out with anyone... male or female.’ Alan howled at that one. Ade continued. ‘Things changed when she left school, and she started going out with men. Would you believe it?’ Alan sounded as if he was about to have a coronary which Kath hoped he would.
‘What you should add here.’ Slimy Alan was speaking. ‘Is that no man has ever lasted longer than two weeks with her.’
‘You mean she puts it about?’
(Oh, thank-you Darren.)