‘You must have someone else to go with.’
Athelstan made his eyes go big and sad. Daniel could well believe there was no one else he could ask. Although Athelstan had the power to charm young men into friendship, they would invariably distance themselves once he hit on their girlfriends. His violent expulsion from the third student house in a row for this very reason was what led Athelstan to his vacant room, where Daniel took his sexual indifference to Ed as some sort of loyalty. Meanwhile, word had spread long ago about his surprisingly high success rate, and male students mostly kept their distance. Although there was Spencer Macleavy, of course.
Daniel shrugged. ‘All right. I don’t know why I’m agreeing to it, but I’m agreeing to it.’
Athelstan hugged him. ‘Thank you. I shall never forget this. Now, unbuckle yourself big boy, I’m going to show my appreciation by – just kidding.’
He squeezed Daniel’s buttocks.
‘But if you ever need anyone…’
Daniel shook his head and slapped his hands away.
‘You’re so feisty. Oh, I’m a bit short at the moment. Tonight’s on you.’
Daniel shook his head and checked his wallet.
‘Why am I not surprised?’ he said.
‘Because you have no imagination. If you did, you’d be in a state of constant surprise at the wonder of the universe. Now, how about a tickle, you filthy beast?’
Daniel found himself running down the hall in flight from Athelstan’s long wriggling fingers.
* * *
The Union bar throbbed with music. Athelstan lay across three seats, his leather jacket open and revealing his old string vest and a PE teacher’s whistle.
‘Where’s the Berlioz on this jukebox, that’s what I want to know. Delius. Vaughan Williams. Harrison Birtwistle. Engelbert Humperdinck. The greats.’
Classical music was Athelstan’s latest ‘thing’. He had recently taken to listening to it in five-minute bursts, and while admitting to Daniel that he had never heard a full symphony or concerto, he claimed that he hoped to fit it in after he retired, although he had also declared on the same day that he’d no plans to live past twenty-nine. ‘I will have achieved everything worth achieving by then,’ he had said. Daniel had asked what those things would be. ‘How would I know? Possibly nothing at all.’
Daniel started his second pint. Athelstan was well into his third.
‘Come on, drink up. You’ll never kill the required number of brain cells at that rate.’
‘I don’t want to kill my brain cells.’
‘And that is why you will never achieve true wisdom. Fuck, where is she?’
Athelstan looked over to the bar, as he had been doing with unusual vulnerability since they had arrived.
‘Maybe your mole got it wrong. It’s not her shift tonight.’
‘No, I trust my source. Something must have happened. I daresay she has encountered a cake the likes of which no man has previously imagined, and is eating it with such abandon she has lost all awareness of time or the existence of anything in the world besides cake. Or she could have been hit by a bus. She would have been fine with that padding, but what about the bus?’
‘I’m sure she’d be happy to hear you talk about her with such respect.’
‘Believe me, Daniel. I have never respected anyone more in my— oh shit, it’s Spencer.’
Spencer Macleavy wandered in to the Union bar, looking for someone to talk to. Daniel didn’t mind the company of his fellow English Literature student. He was pleasant enough, if unengaging. Athelstan, however, had declared war on him the day he combined a velvet jacket with running socks. ‘He has stolen my style, along with a tiny sliver of my soul!’ he had announced in the cafeteria, at a volume Daniel found uncomfortable.
Spencer had remained seemingly unaware of Athelstan’s malignant attitude, attempting to strike up conversations with the both of them most days he saw them. Athelstan’s barbs were too veiled for him to spot, it appeared, although Daniel was unsure how he could miss them. He sometimes wished that Spencer was more properly his friend, even though he bored him a bit. There was something about his dullness that was appealingly calming. But he knew Athelstan would never allow it.
‘Fuckety fuck, he’s waving at us. Oh, shitting Christ, now he’s coming over. Does he love humiliation? Have I entered into a sado-masochistic relationship with this imbecile without realising it?’
Daniel could only watch helplessly as Spencer approached.
‘Ah, Spencer,’ said Athelstan, territorially stretching himself still further across the seats. ‘Welcome to my personal space. Do take your shoes and pants off, you incorrigible bum-bandit.’
‘Hi, Athels. Hi, Daniel,’ said Spencer, holding out a hand that Daniel shook for both of them. ‘How’s it hanging?’
‘It never hangs,’ said Athelstan. ‘It only points. Right now it’s pointing at your throat.’
‘Sweet. Did you catch Radders’ lecture this morning? What did you reckon? It was pretty interesting, wasn’t it? About Pamela. And Shamela, by the guy who wrote Tom Jones. “It’s not unuuusuaaal…”’
Athelstan stared at him and said nothing.
‘He didn’t go,’ said Daniel.
‘Sweet. Listen, I’m going to the bar. Do you guys want anything?’
‘I’m OK, thanks,’ said Daniel.
‘I shall have a pint of the nastiest, gassiest lager they have on tap. Make it a double.’
‘So… you want two pints.’
‘The man’s a genius. A stone cold platinum-plated genius.’
‘Sweet. Back in a sec.’
Spencer disappeared into the mass surrounding the bar.
‘I wish you weren’t so horrible to him,’ said Daniel.
‘I wish people weren’t starving in the Third World. We can’t all have what we want. Anyway, he called me “Athels”. That calls for chemical castration. That definitely would be “sweet”.’
‘He just wants to be like you. That’s not a bad thing.’
‘It’s a dreadful thing. It’s like being raped.’
‘No it isn’t.’
‘Speaking of rape, I got that Clarissa book out of the library.’
‘Oh? Congratulations. I never thought you’d go through with it. How are you getting along?’
‘I haven’t read a single word, and do you know, that makes it almost more perfect? A million-word novel, unsullied by my eye.’
‘It’s nice you’re not sullying it, I guess.’
There was no reply from Athelstan, which struck Daniel as odd. He looked at his housemate. His mouth was open, his eyes wide, like an adoring figure in a Renaissance painting.
‘She’s here,’ his mouth shaped, the sound drowned out by the jukebox.
Daniel followed his gaze. The girl was behind the bar, her thick, spongy arms pumping out drinks for Spencer.
‘The verminous little shit!’ screeched Athelstan. ‘How dare he brazenly bathe in her beauty in front of me! I’m going to make him eat his own ball bag when he gets back here.’
‘No, you’re not. He hasn’t done anything wrong, he’s just…’ There was no point continuing.
Spencer nuzzled his way through the crowd, his hands gingerly clasping three pints.
‘Here you go,’ he said, placing two in front of Athelstan. ‘Sorry, I spilled a bit, just the—’
‘Tell me, Spencer, are you a libertine or a rake?’
‘Sorry?’
‘A libertine or a rake? Which one are you? Come on, tell us.’
‘They’re both the same, aren’t they? That’s what Radders said…’
‘No. They are most definitely not the same. A libertine oh-so-tediously rejects conventional morality, living by his own rules, like a fucking hippy. A rake, on the other hand, sets himself at war with conventional morality. A rake goes out of his way to offend, disgust, degrade and debase. A rake is obscene in everything he does. Now tell me, are you a libertine, or are you a rake?’
/> Spencer looked down at his pint. ‘Um, well I guess if I had to choose, I’m a libertine.’
Athelstan smiled. ‘And that is why I shall defeat you!’
‘Defeat me?’
‘Yes, you shall never have her. Unlike your pitiful self, I have no boundaries, no morality, nothing to stop me dragging everything I see and touch into my gaping pit of depravity. And so she shall be mine, down in the pit, her gelatine-like mass quivering as I skewer her with my… skewering stick.’
‘I’m not sure I—’
Daniel patted Spencer on the arm. ‘Don’t worry about it. He’s just winding you up. He doesn’t mean it. He’s pissed.’
Athelstan grabbed Daniel by the lapels. ‘How dare you slander me! I am barely on my fourth pint. It will take another six before the first signs of intoxication arise!’
‘Fine, fine. You’re not pissed. But you are joking, right?’
‘I’m always serious, Daniel. Even when I’m not.’
‘Listen,’ said Spencer. ‘I’m going to go and… mingle. I’ll talk to you later.’
‘Yes, mingle, young Spencer,’ said Athelstan. ‘Mingle until not a trace of your own individuality is left.’
Spencer smiled awkwardly and disappeared.
‘That was so out of order,’ said Daniel, checking to see that Spencer had properly gone.
‘He shall not have her,’ said Athelstan, looking once more towards the bar.
‘He doesn’t want her, you lunatic! He just bought a round of drinks from her, because, guess what? She’s a barmaid.’
‘He wants whatever I have. Which means he wants whatever I want. If he doesn’t want her already, he soon will. At which point, I shall destroy him. For I am a rake, the enemy of all that is good, honest and true, and there is nothing I will not stoop to in pursuit of my desires.’
‘How about paying for your own drinks?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
* * *
‘Maybe you should just talk to her.’
It had gone midnight, and near throwing-out time at the Union bar. Except to go to the toilet with ever-increasing regularity, Athelstan had not moved from his sprawled position, watching the object of his desire serve from behind the bar, she laughing all the while, her skin glistening with sweat. Daniel had been served by her several times. Athelstan had not been to the bar all evening.
‘No. I must move slowly, one step at a time, until the anticipation is almost unbearable, before our love is consummated.’ Besides a slurring of the speech, Athelstan was otherwise seemingly unimpaired.
‘But she doesn’t love you. She doesn’t even know who you are.’
‘She will. It’s inevitable. It said so in my horoscope this morning, I expect.’
A bell sounded.
‘We should leave,’ said Daniel.
‘Not until she does.’
‘She’s got to clear up. They won’t let us stay for that.’
‘Then we shall wait outside, in secret, hiding in the dark of an alleyway, and then follow her.’
‘We are not doing that. It’s generally creepy and very illegal.’
‘Oh, don’t be such a weakling, Daniel.’
‘We’re not doing it.’
‘Fine. Fine. I shall find out her address by another means.’
‘Your source?’
‘Got it in one.’
‘Are you done with those?’
It was her. Standing before them, towers of pint glasses nursed in her arms, pressed into her chest.
‘Yes, thanks,’ said Daniel. She scooped up their near-finished pints and added them to the towers. Athelstan stared, his face drained of expression.
‘Your friend OK?’ she said. ‘He looks a bit poorly.’
‘Yeah, he’s OK. Just a bit tired, that’s all. He’s had a long day drinking.’
‘Don’t blame yer, chuck. Don’t blame yer.’
She winked over her shoulder as she walked away. Daniel couldn’t help but see the crevice of her bottom peeking out over her belt.
‘It’s all so enormous,’ he could hear Athelstan whispering, the bar eerily quiet now the jukebox had turned off. ‘All so big… I could die inside of her… a cavern of flesh…’
Daniel wanted to be disgusted at Athelstan, but could not hide from himself that he too wouldn’t be so unhappy doing something similar, with somebody.
* * *
‘Two questions. Do you want to know what the lecture you missed was about, and why are you hiding behind a tree?’
Daniel looked down at his flatmate. He was crouched on the ground, his head peeking around the trunk of an oak, his hair held back from his eyes by a red sweatband. A hand grabbed Daniel’s leg and pulled him down.
‘Get down here or you’ll give me away!’ said Athelstan. ‘In answer to your first question, “not particularly”, although I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway in a tiresome and pedantic manner. In answer to your second, I am watching her as she comes and goes from her house.’
‘Her? Oh, her.’
‘Yes. Her. She lives in that one with the indecently red door over there. I have learnt much from my vigil this past week.’
‘Such as?’
‘She lives with at least three other people. Two girls. One boy. He looks gay, but is probably just ineffectually heterosexual, like yourself. She has a pink dressing gown, which cannot fully contain her mighty orbs of orgasmic delight, and a pair of brown slippers, each made to humorously resemble a cartoon dog. She is a late riser. She is not shy about her body, as when she came out to fill the dustbin and bent over the other morning, she flagrantly not only revealed her vast and magnificent bottom to me, but to the whole neighbourhood. She either does not have a boyfriend, or is a magnificent slut, as yesterday I saw her flirting outrageously with a passing chirpy workman. She smokes. She eats Frosties, the most fattening of cereals. I believe from their outline that her areola are wide in diameter. She—’
‘The lecture was on Laurence Sterne. Tristram Shandy.’
‘Not Clarissa anymore?’
‘Pamela. And that was last week.’
‘Shame. You know, I’ve been flicking through that Clarissa book. I have to say I like the cut of that Lovelace’s jib.’
‘I’m guessing you’re trying to be provocative and I’ll regret asking this, but anyway… why?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I think we’d just get along, that’s all.’
‘He’s totally amoral. All that interests him is the pursuit of his own desire, and he is willing to destroy anything to get it, even the person that he wants.’
‘Well, yes. That’s the important thing. He knows what he wants. He gets it. Doesn’t let any nonsense about reputation or social niceness get in the way. What’s so wrong there? But what I don’t understand is why she doesn’t just save everyone a lot of hassle and give him a blowjob or something. He’d probably be happy with that.’
‘What? Because it’s the eighteenth century. It would have been totally incompatible with her religious faith. And I’m pretty sure Clarissa doesn’t want to give Lovelace a blowjob, if she even knows what one is. That’s reason enough, surely?’
Athelstan sighed. ‘She’s into acts of kindness and alleviating suffering and doing her moral duty and all that turgid nonsense. Look at this way. It’s her that’s given him the horn. So it’s her responsibility to de-horn him.’
Daniel stood up.
‘I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. It’s not funny, it’s just sick. See you later, Athelstan.’
‘I bet that’s what you’d say about Derek and Clive, you philistine! Where are you going? You can’t leave me here all on my own! I’ll get cold and lonely.’
‘I’m going to see Ed. You’ll be fine.’
‘Yes, I’ll be fine behind this tree. You’ll be fine not having sex with Ed. The starving children in Africa will be fine starving. No compassion necessary. Everyone is going to be fine.’
Daniel could not summon the
strength to argue, and left his housemate crouching behind the tree, waiting for the girl to once again leave her front door.
* * *
Daniel sat next to Ed on the bed of her room in halls. They had been kissing with their mouths closed for fifteen minutes. He found that he no longer kissed with his eyes shut, and they wandered round the room, looking at the faith-based inspirational posters and wall texts, which didn’t help his mood. It was no good. The time had come.
‘What’s wrong?’ she said. ‘I thought you liked this.’
‘I do,’ he said. ‘But I think… I think we should do it with our mouths open. Because the spit would make our lips less sore.’
Ed pulled a face at the word ‘spit’.
‘It wouldn’t be right,’ she said. ‘This isn’t anything to do with Athelstan, is it? I’d understand. He can be very persuasive, I’ve heard, getting people to agree to things they shouldn’t. It can’t be good for you living with someone like that—’
‘No, no, not at all. But there’s nothing in the Bible about kissing with your mouth open, is there?’
‘No, but it’s been proven that it leads to… other things. And those definitely are forbidden in the Bible, outside marriage, anyway.’
Daniel leant forward and clasped her hand.
‘But what if we just make a solemn vow not to take it any further? What if we said to God that we’re just kissing with our mouths open for lubrication purposes only, and have no intention of doing anything else? You know, maybe we just need to trust ourselves a bit more? After all, we managed to kiss with our mouths closed for over a year.’
Ed looked down for a minute, and then up. Daniel had learnt not to interrupt her when she did this.
‘I just asked God,’ she said. ‘I don’t think he said yes, but it didn’t feel like he was saying no, either.’
‘So that’s a yes, then?’ said Daniel.
‘I guess so,’ said Ed.
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