by Dee Winter
Etienne is back. He makes me feel hot again and I feel myself blush. He says I have a lovely smile and I feel hotter still. A waitress then comes over and brings white square bowls with warmed nuts and little odd-shaped multicoloured crackers. I’m baffled. I haven’t asked for them. Still, I try one of the little white squares. It tastes weird and salty and sticks to my tongue. My phone rings suddenly. Etienne picks up his drink. It’s Rob. My escape call comes early. Although I really still have no idea what time it is. “You ok?” He says bluntly.
Sitting right in front of Etienne with him hearing everything, there’s not a lot else I can say but, “Yeah, great!”
“How’s it going?” He says.
“Fine, yeah, good.” I say. Not like I can say anything else, but I am telling the truth at least.
“Ok, call me if you need me.” He says, and hangs up. I look up and smile at Etienne but his head is turned and he’s looking at the bar. I notice he’s finished his glass of wine.
“Another drink?” He says, reaching for the wine bottle which is now less than a quarter full.
“No more wine for me please,” I say bravely. I still have half a glass. He just smiles. I tell him it was my brother on the phone though I don’t want to say too much. I have to watch my words after a drink. Alcohol makes it all the more easy to blurt out something regrettable. I realise I must be talking a lot about me but I don’t really know what else to say. I want to ask him questions so I start to try and think of some. Just as I’m thinking, a waitress comes over to our table with a round black tray. At first glance it looks like she’s bringing two more tea lights. I almost say something out loud about whether they have a power cut, but as I watch her put them on the table, I realise they’re not candles. I don’t know what they are. I stare at them, then at Etienne in wonder.
“Sambuca.” He says. I look at him mystified.
“To drink?” I say, in retrospect a little foolishly, wondering what else they would be for. Etienne laughs softly, smiling still.
“Watch!” he says in a mystical way like he’s about to do a magic trick. He takes a glass and I think he might be about to set himself alight, but no. He blows on the flame and quickly drinks, and smiles at me. “Your turn,” he says gesturing towards the other flickering glass. I take it quickly. It feels hot to touch. I go to gulp it, but he suddenly stops me, his hand on mine. I tremble again from his touch. He says sharply, “No!” and I realise why after he puffs out the flame. “Now ok,” he says, still smiling.
I drink and the sickly spirit immediately burns my mouth. I think now I really might be sick as sweet fire dances down my throat. It carries on dancing in my belly. I think it may make my stomach turn inside out. Maybe my body’s gone into rejection and my face does not deny my feeling. Etienne’s hand is still on my wrist and I open my eyes to look at him. He looks concerned. “I’m ok.” I say to reassure him and I put the glass down, trembling slightly. The taste in my mouth is horrid and I have to concentrate on not being sick. I sip a little more wine and it kind of takes the taste away, replacing it with something equally disgusting. I really crave a glass of water but to ask for this would mean stupid, failure. I close my eyes for few seconds and feel dizzy.
“Really? Are you ok?” He asks again, gently squeezing my wrist, as I feel like I’m swaying slightly in my seat. I think no, but find myself lying again.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I say, maybe I need nicotine, maybe that’ll make me feel better. I reach for my bag, pull out my cigarette box and light one up. My eagerness for self-satisfaction makes me forget my manners. Only after my second draw, I realise it would be polite to offer Etienne one too. He accepts and takes the lighter from out of my hand, his touch again makes me shiver. I sway silently for a moment or two more before realising I’ve got quite the urge to pee. I tell Etienne where I’m going just so he knows, just in case I do pass out in there. I pick up my bag, lighter and cigarettes awkwardly, with the lit one still in my mouth and take myself to the toilet. Trust no one. Not yet anyway.
There’s a woman in there, sitting on a stool. She says, “Hello darling.” I don’t respond and head to the nearest cubicle. I perch on the cold seat, dropping ash on my bare thigh. I try and focus on the wall but can’t. It’s moving. Rows of little white square tiles move up and up, like I’m in a lift going down. I grin stupidly and laugh at myself. Eventually when I feel a little less dizzy, I get up and flush the end of my cigarette away. I ignore the woman again. I look in the mirror and think I still look surprisingly ok, in a hazy kind of fluffy way.
I come out of the toilet and realise I have forgotten where we are sitting. I wasn’t paying attention and the toilets are quite far away. I have no sense of direction at the best of times. Now making my way back is not easy. I panic a little. It does seem busier now. Faces I accidentally get too close to stare expectantly. I whisper sorry and nudge past. After walking round in what feels like an entire circuit, meeting some of the same people again, I must be doing something wrong. I feel an idiot and decide to head back to the bar. A barman is looking at me like I might order but instead I ask him, “Did you see where my friend went?”
He looks back at me puzzled, smiling a little, “That guy there?” he says, pointing. I feel stupid but sheer relief as I look over and see Etienne. Then the barman adds, “You just walked past him.” I see Etienne is looking at me curiously.
I try to think fast, tricky in my state, and all I can think to save myself is blurt back to the barman, “Two sambucas please, over there,” and I point in the direction of Etienne. I hope I covered my tracks but still quietly accepting I am a total banana. I know the barman is looking as I walk away. I don’t look back. I walk with a little wobble in my step over to Etienne as if nothing has happened, trying to style it out.
“You were a long time.” He says, as I’m carefully sitting myself down, trying to be graceful, but my foot slips. I fall down on to the sofa with a sudden bump and my leg shoots forward and kicks the table, making all the glasses shake. My feet were aching anyway from the boots, but now my toes hurt even more.
“Umm... Yeah, there was quite a queue.” I say, lying. “There always is for the lady’s”. I ramble on. I must’ve taken a long time as he is lighting up another cigarette. It smells strange. I remember he had one of mine just before I went.
“So did you phone someone?” he asks, smiling.
“No, no I didn’t,” I say, determined not to lie again. “I just took long.” I shrug. He nods. “I don’t need to phone anyone, don’t worry. I’m not going nowhere.” He smiles and I smile too just as the barman brings over the drinks I ordered.
Etienne takes his glass without hesitation, holds it up, but does not drink. He’s waiting for me. “Cheers!” he says. I almost laugh. A French accent on a very British word amuses me. Like Del Boy saying Bonjour. There’s no going back now. I want to rewind it all and for the waiter to come back and take the glasses away. Not going to happen. No choice. I take the glass.
“Cheers!” I say back, in sharp south London. We drink.
Almost immediately, things wobble again and start to go hazy. I feel I have stepped off the edge of a cliff. The kite string is cut and I am flying high. I hear myself babbling. My words make perfect sense to me but Etienne looks confused. I am brought a glass of water. Etienne keeps asking if I am ok. He says he should take me home. I noisily protest but he insists.
I fall into a cab who is a chancer stalking the street. I eye him suspiciously but think maybe it is best I just get home. Thankfully when I blurt out my address he knows where to go and even more amazingly I manage to make the whole journey home without being sick. Etienne must pay as I don’t. I stumble falling over onto the grass going up the path. Feeling damp and cold, Etienne picks me up. I get to my front door. I struggle for a while to get the key, thinking I must be silent as Rob and maybe Ruby or even Marcia might be here now. Trying to be quiet makes things worse. I am dropping things, bumping into walls and I fall into the bath tryin
g to go to the toilet. There is a lot of noise.
9
The Hangover
When I wake up, I am in Rob’s bed which usually would be fine, but I am horrored to look over and see Etienne lying there next to me, quietly asleep. My whole body feels like it’s been microwaved on full power and I have a headache that must’ve have been caused by an elephant treading on my head. Oh God. There is a gorgeous man sleeping next to me and I’m in my brother’s bed. This is bad. I can barely move. I check the time on Rob’s alarm clock. It’s early. 6:35am. Rob could be on his way back right now, or worse, he could already be home. No choice! We have to move. When I touch his arm he doesn’t respond. Only shaking his shoulder quite hard makes him open his eyes. He looks lovely, like he’s waking up from a beautiful dream. “Come on!” I say. “We have to move!” He makes a low murmuring sound but doesn’t say anything.
When I start to physically pull him off the bed, which is no mean feat hungover, as he is after all, a fully grown sleeping man, he says, “Why do we have to move?” Then I realise he has no idea of the possible impending doom.
“We have to. This is my brother’s bed,” I say swiftly. “If we don’t move, we both get killed.” He struggles to get up. We stagger through the door and into the front room and thankfully there is no one there. I quickly hurl cushions and throws in a vague bed-like way on the bigger sofa. He quickly falls into the couch, barely adjusting himself and looks like he will be asleep again soon. I go and lay next to him, awake, until he is definitely asleep. I feel rough as the stony beach at Brighton. I get up and take some Ibuprofen to hopefully help the headache and then, maybe somewhat coldly, I go back to try and sleep off my hangover in my brother’s bed. Maximum comfort and I know if Rob is coming back now, he’s not killing me at least. My head is too fried to think clearly but I pick up my bag with my wallet and phone. I will have to trust Etienne in the rest of the house for now. I’ll let him sleep. To kick him out now would be heartless. As soon as Rob’s back he’ll be out so I will give him some reprieve for now. We don’t know how long he’s got.
I don’t know how much time passes but I am being woken up, and learning fast how Etienne must’ve felt earlier as I’m being shaken awake. It takes me a second to focus. Rob, Ruby, Who? “There’s someone at the door,” says a French voice. My head feels only slightly better, muzzy still and I have a continental headache, maybe like a horse now has kicked me in the head. I’m going to need some more painkillers.
“What?” I say, still half asleep, sounding like I’ve swallowed a wasp.
“There’s someone outside.” He says.
I feel like answering back, “AND?!” But I don’t. I hold my tongue and struggle out of bed. As I shuffle into the lounge, I notice Rob’s still not back yet. There’s no sign of him at all. My head hurts more standing up but at least I don’t feel quite so sick anymore. I can hear a loud car engine and bass heavy music before I even get to the front door. I hope Heather’s not in. It’s a horrible feeling as I realise who it is. The devil’s at my door and I’m not about to invite him in.
Before I do anything I scuttle back to Rob’s room to check my phone in my bag which only now I see, the battery is dead. I don’t know how many missed calls or messages are going to spring up when I switch it back on. I take it back into the living room with me, still not wanting to open the door. I see Rob’s charger plugged in at the wall so I use it. I turn the switch on at the socket and my phone lights up. I don’t switch it on yet. I don’t think I have time to find out now. It stays off. I place it upon the coffee table.
I contemplate the imminent catastrophe waiting at the doorstep and wonder if it will ever one day be possible to turn back time. I’m tempted to just not go outside at all and just wait for him to go away but I could be waiting a long time. Plus he is making just too much noise. I have to go out. I sweetly say to Etienne, please wait in the bedroom. He gestures to the bathroom instead. “Ok,” I say. “Don’t come out, for now.” He doesn’t smell too fresh, a bit like something long forgotten at the bottom of a washing basket. I tell him don’t forget to lock the door as I shut it behind him and I wait to hear the lock click.
I peer through the front door I have now opened a crack. Outside on the pavement I see him, circling around like a wingless vulture. My crazy ex-boyfriend. His car must be fixed now as I can see his blue Fiesta parked badly, two wheels up on the kerb. The horrid music is blasting. I can virtually hear my eardrums cry. He’s on the phone and he doesn’t look happy. I go outside and pull the door closed behind me. He sees me suddenly and runs at me like he might hit me. I don’t flinch. He doesn’t touch me but gets right up close to my face. I can feel his hot breath and smell smoke. His nose is touching mine. I try not to show it but I am a tiny bit scared. More scared though that Etienne is going to hear and will come outside to look see, make things even worse. “Why the fuck have you turned your phone off. I’ve been trying to phone you all fucking night! Don’t you think I give a shit?!”
Well actually no... I think. I don’t say anything and just look at him, with most intent Evil Eye I can manage. “Just go away Benny! I can’t talk to you now. I’ve got a massive headache and you’re not helping. Look, I’m sorry about my phone, the battery went dead.” I start to turn and walk back inside, but he comes behind me and tugs me hard on my shoulder, pinching me.
“Look... I’m sorry.” He says. My mouth wants to fall open but I don’t let it. I just stare at him and wait, intrigued what he might say next. “Ella. Look... I’m really sorry. I was worried about you... after leaving like that on Saturday. I felt bad. I tried calling you last night and thought something had happened when your phone was off. I even drove round here but...” He tails off. I know he’s going to say, “…but Rob was here.” Why does it happen now? Benny says sorry, like he actually does care. Just at the exact moment I have found another man and now I wouldn’t mind at all it if I was single forever.
“Look Benny, my head kills... I’m really not feeling well. Can we talk later?” I plead trying to sound as rough as possible. I hope he’s going to buy this. Maybe it’ll come as part of this quite likeable, being nice Benny. I wait many seconds. He just looks at the ground, scuffing his feet about.
He eventually says, “Ok... I’ll come round later. When you’re feeling better, yeah? Ok...Laters.”
“Bye then.” I say and I edge closer still towards the door.
“I’ll phone you.” He says before walking off bowling his shoulders and getting back in his car. I wait until he drives off before I pull the key from the letterbox that he doesn’t know about. I’ll deal with Benny later. Postpone the fallout. I go back in. Etienne is still in the bathroom. My head is throbbing again now so I go back to the sofa and sit. I do feel a bit bad about going with Etienne within days of breaking up with Benny. I thought I did not have a boyfriend. Maybe Benny thought otherwise. But he finished with me! Maybe he wants to sort things out. This makes me feel better, that he came round, after he dumped me. But I have something much better waiting for me behind closed doors. If only he knew.
As I lay back down on the sofa I feel my shoulders loosen up a little and then my head throbs again and my heart beats a little faster. I feel like I still might be sick, but then I’m not sure if it’s the hangover that’s making my heart race. Etienne emerges in a steamy haze. He’s wearing just boxers. His body is smooth and trim. His hip bones jut out beautifully, a vision of perfect symmetry. I would laugh were Rob to come in and see this now. Me half naked in a t-shirt and this beautiful nearly naked man. He might go crazy, although he may just laugh. He’d be happy I think at least it wasn’t Benny.
Feeling rough, I smile at Etienne and say, “It’s cool. Just my crazy ex-boyfriend. Sorry about that.” The sight of him now is stirring other feelings above and beyond my hangover. I want him. I get up to take his hand, I smile some more and flutter my eyelashes a little. Putting on my best ever flirt, I say, “Don’t worry, come here.” Holding his hand I take him ba
ck to my brother’s bedroom. I lock the door behind us.
I slip under the covers and gesture for him to follow me. He smells fresh and clean, like soap. His hair feels soft and springy. His almost naked body touches mine and I feel electric. He is cuddling me, his torso soft. He then gently pulls my face towards his and kisses me. I close my eyes enjoying his gentle dreamlike lips touching mine and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him as close as I can. My headache still aches away but I think I may have found a cure. His hands slide up and down my body, then up and under my t-shirt. He strokes me so gently sending the strongest feelings of desire I have ever felt through my whole body. I let my hands slide down his firm, toned muscles. Our hands don’t stop moving all over each other. I kiss him more urgently. He kisses back, softly. I do fear a little for the state of my breath but Etienne doesn’t seem to mind. I certainly don’t think about it for long. Eventually, finally, Etienne pulls my t-shirt up and over my head, and then slowly, kissing my whole body all the way down, he gently tugs my shorts over my thighs and onto the floor. Etienne whispers in my ear, asking me if I’m sure. I say, never surer. He stands up briefly to pull down his boxers. I miss his body touching mine so I pull him quickly back on top of me, his whole bodyweight on mine. The time is now, the scene is set, and we start making sweet love. He pushes deep inside me, over and over and it has never felt so amazing. Never before. Words cannot describe. I’m shaking more than I ever have before in my life and I want to just hold on to him and this feeling and never let go. We fall asleep again in each others’ arms. A hangover has never felt so good.
I wake naked and alone to the sounds of Etienne hurriedly getting dressed next to me. My head now only hurts a tiny bit, like maybe I’ve been smacked hard with a newspaper. I look at him dreamily. He’s not smiling, he says, “Your brother, I think I heard him, I should go.” I look at the time. It is still morning which makes a change from my usual lie-ins. Then I realise its Monday, a college day. I could still make it to afternoon classes. I never usually get in early on Monday, so today is no exception, except for Etienne. And now his face, a picture of worry is amusing me. I think if Rob had heard us, he would have banged on the door and threatened to kill me by now. I listen hard for about a minute but can’t actually hear anything. I’m not convinced he’s here at all.