Guess Who I Pulled Last Night?

by Nikki Ashton

  “Not that sort of fit! You know, phwoar fit.”

  “Oh.” Light dawned on Kerry, who nodded, open mouthed. “What does he look like anyway? She blocked my view pretty quickly when I was at the bar.”

  “Err, tall, blond, good body, from what I could see under the t-shirt. I couldn’t really see his face, but Bets told me last week that he looked a little like a blond Robbie Williams.”

  “Not our type then, if he’s muscle bound, I mean.”

  Charlotte laughed. “Are you trying to say we go for weedy types?”

  “No, Kelvin’s got good biceps, but he’s no Charles Atlas is he?”

  “Who?” Charlotte asked, puzzled.

  “Charles Atlas…oh forget it,” Kerry could see from Charlotte’s gormless expression that she didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. “Let’s just say he’s not Arnie is he?”

  “Oh, I see; no he isn’t is he.”

  They continued talking for a while, until Bets approached them.

  “Hiya, are you two okay then?” Bets sat next to Kerry, squeezing onto the edge of her stool.

  “Yes we are what about you?” Charlotte winked at Bets.

  “Oh, you want to know about Gary do you?” They both nodded in unison. “Well he’s 24…" She paused due to the look of astonishment on their faces. “Don’t be so narrow minded, why shouldn’t I enjoy a younger man? As I said, he's twenty-four, and has been working at the pool for two weeks. He's single, living with his mum and dad, and I’m going to take him home now for what I hope will be wild, exciting sex. Afterwards, I’ll give him a peck on the cheek, thank him for the multiple orgasms that I’ve just had and tell him that I’ll see him around. Now does that answer all your questions?”

  Kerry and Charlotte nodded again. “Yes, I think so,” said Charlotte, “but how did you manage to snare him in a pool full of old women with flabby arms, doing aqua aerobics?”

  “I think that you’ve answered your own question, don’t you?” Bets replied, smiling. “I pretended that I was having trouble with my star jumps, and it just went from there.”

  At that moment Gary approached their table. Both Charlotte and Kerry knew that Bets would not introduce them to him, so they quickly gave him the once over. Over the years they had both developed the knack of eying up Bets’ conquests, taking everything in as none of them, were ever introduced. Bets didn’t see the point as it was very rare that they were around the next day.

  “Well we’ll be off, see you soon.” Bets had stuffed her arms into her jacket Gary held out for her, and then they were gone.

  “Hmm, he’s quite nice.” Kerry nodded thoughtfully.

  “Young though, didn’t you think?” Charlotte commented.

  “Yeah, but that scar above his eyebrow did add a sense of danger.”

  Charlotte nodded in agreement. “Yes, you’re right, but I did think that his eyes were a little close together. More like a good looking Wayne Rooney than Robbie I would have said.”

  “You know Charlotte; you are spot on.”

  Charlotte was lying in her bed, thinking about the day’s events, but more to the point about Grant. It was only now, when she was alone with nothing or no one to keep her occupied, that the full force of her feelings hit her. Picturing his sneering smile, she began to sob uncontrollably into her pillow, not really knowing why. She knew that it wasn’t for what might have been. The longer she had got to think about Grant over the past years the more she had realised that he didn’t deserve her. As her pillow got wetter, Charlotte’s cries got quieter, until eventually they subsided. She sat up and reached across to her dressing table for a tissue. Sitting in the darkness of the night blowing her nose, Charlotte began to think more clearly about her feelings. She'd loved Grant; deeply. However, over the year that they were together, he had taken every bit of that love, screwed it up and stamped on it. Now all that she felt for him was contempt. Charlotte realised that she had lied when she had told Kerry that she hated Grant - hate was a very strong word - but she did hate how he had treated her. At least breaking up with him had pushed her to concentrate on her work, her career, and now she would soon be reaping the benefits. Charlotte supposed that it was only natural at first to feel how she had today: shaking legs, beating heart. It was just adrenalin working, but she wasn’t sure that it was natural to feel tearful. She really thought that she had shed all the tears that she was ever going to shed over Grant, but obviously not. Snuggling back down under the duvet Charlotte felt much calmer now. She knew that if, she ever did meet Grant again she would be able to handle it. Just hearing the name, meeting someone who knew him, had helped to exorcise the ghost. Now all she had to worry about was Kerry and how to cheer her up.

  Across the park in Bets’ flat, she and Gary were having a much better time, although she was a little disappointed. Gary was a nice lad, but that was all he was – a lad. His lovemaking had been pleasant - if not a little clumsy - and Bets had had to point him in the right direction on a couple of occasions. However, he did have a good body, so she felt that she couldn’t complain too much. Thankfully, he wasn’t interested in any conversation, the little bit that they’d had in the pub had been sufficient for Bets. There were only so many footballers that she knew the names of, and she really wasn’t curious about the offside rule. After an hour or so of thrashing about, Bets had announced that she was going to take a bath and Gary had asked to join her.

  “I don’t think so,” she said smiling kindly at him. “I really need to get some sleep, and I’m sure that you want to get home.”

  “Oh, you don’t want me to stay then?” he asked.

  Bets shook her head, then leaned across and pecked him on the cheek, her bare breast touching his arm.

  “Gary, you are a really nice fella, but I’m not looking for anything more than sex.” She paused noticing that his smile had faded. “You didn’t expect anything else did you?” Gary shrugged his shoulders. “Gary, I’m six years older than you, where did you think it would go?”

  “God, are you really? You’ve not got a bad body for an old bird you know?”

  If Bets had any slight desire to see him again it now disappeared; suddenly she was impatient for him to leave.

  “Listen, I really think that you should go, I’ve got work tomorrow.”

  “Okay, but can I just say what a great shag you are.” He kissed Bets passionately, one thing that he was good at, stirring her loins once more. She almost changed her mind, but then remembered the old bird comment, and pulled herself away from his growing erection.

  “You can let yourself out; perhaps I’ll see you at the pool sometime.” Bets gently pushed him away.

  “Ah come on, you know you want me to stay really.” He started to caress Bets’ bare shoulder.

  “No Gary.” She pushed him more firmly now.

  “Okay, but if you change your mind, you know where I am.” He sighed and started to get dressed.

  “Not in your lifetime, darling,” Bets muttered, as she moved out of the bedroom to the bathroom.

  After a few minutes, above the noise of the running bath water, Bets heard the front door close. She heaved a sigh of relief; she had envisaged him being there all night.

  After a soak in the bath and all trace of Gary washed away from her skin, Bets wrapped herself in a towel and wandered back into the bedroom. Glancing at the clock, reading 1 a.m., she realised how tired she and she longed for her bed. Ten minutes later she was under the duvet, moving around to find the warm spot from the bodies that had lain on top of it earlier. As she lay there Bets thought about Gary, not him particularly, but his type; the ones that she picked up for a night of sex and then dumped. She sighed heavily, realising that it was all getting a little boring now. Kerry and Charlotte constantly told her to be careful, which she was, and always used a condom, but Bets realised that she had been very lucky in that she hadn’t ever picked up a complete nutter. She knew, however, that one day her luck could run out, and then she would be in trouble;
perhaps it was time to think about growing up a little.

  When Kerry arrived home, Kelvin was still up watching T.V.

  “Hi, did you have a good time?” he looked up at his wife.

  Kerry leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes, Charlottes in a bit of a state though.” Kerry shrugged off her jacket and flopped down onto the sofa.

  “Oh, why is that then?” Kelvin asked, as he turned off the television.

  “Someone came to see her today, who happens to know Grant.”

  Kelvin winced as Kerry continued to explain what had happened.

  “Oh dear,” he said, “I bet she thought that she’d heard the last of him. Never mind as long as you and Bets are there for her.”

  Kerry stood up suddenly and looked down on Kelvin, her hands firmly on her hips. “Yes, that would be right, not only do I have to make sure that you and Esme are happy, but now I’ve got Charlotte to worry about!”

  Kerry’s tone and the speed at which her mood had changed shocked Kelvin, who shrank back into his seat. “Hey, calm down I only said…”

  “Yes, I know that you only said Kelvin.” Kerry sat down again, her voice now more measured. “Don’t you think that I have enough to worry about?”

  “Sorry, but you’ve always been there for each other, and I just assumed…” he tried to explain.

  “Well don’t assume. No one seems to think that I may have problems.”

  “Talk to me then, what problems have you got? I know that you’re bored, but it won’t be long before you are back at work, if that’s what you want?”

  “Of course it’s what I want! You would have me staying at home having baby after baby, wouldn’t you?”

  Kelvin shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “I can’t win can I? Before you went on maternity leave, you kept telling me how you hated work and wanted a change. That was all I meant: you don’t have to go back, and you could stay at home until you found something that you prefer.”

  “Well that’s not what you said. Anyway, everyone says that they hate their work, but they don’t always mean it,” snapped Kerry.

  Kelvin conceded defeat; he nodded and sat back in the chair. “No, you’re right, well whatever you want to do I’ll support you.”

  “Hmm, good old Kelvin,” muttered Kerry.

  “Sorry?” he looked at Kerry quizzically.

  “Nothing. I’m going to bed. I’m going shopping tomorrow; Mum is going to have Esme for me.”

  As Kerry picked up her jacket, Kelvin looked up at her once more. “Shopping? You only went today. You did food and clothes shopping, what do you need to go again for? Have you seen our credit card bill lately? It’s getting bigger by the week, Kerry.”

  “It’s not that bad; we can afford it. I need to go, okay!” Kerry’s glare dared Kelvin to argue, but it was late, and he was too tired.

  “Okay, if you say you need to go, then you need to go.”

  “Oh I’m going to bed,” Kerry replied.

  “I’ll be up soon.” Kelvin said, rubbing his eyes.

  “Night.” Kerry stormed out, without the usual goodnight kiss, leaving Kelvin wondering what he had to do these days to cheer her up.

  As she sat on the edge of the bed, removing her makeup, Kerry wondered why she was being such a bitch to Kelvin. She knew when she was doing it, but couldn’t stop herself. She felt so furious and sad inside and wanted him to feel the same way; why should she be the only one to suffer? She also knew that she was pushing him; a wicked part of her wanted to see how far he would go before he snapped, before he got annoyed too and gave her a reaction. Why she felt like this, she didn’t know. She had everything, but somehow it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t be bothered with anything, except causing a row. A tear trickled down Kerry’s cheek as she sat looking at herself in the mirror; it surprised her; she wasn’t expecting tears. Suddenly, Kerry wanted to scream and throw things about; she felt like she did when she stubbed her toe and wanted to curse and shout just because it made her feel better. However, she didn’t for fear of waking Esme. Instead she pulled back the duvet and slipped into bed, closing her eyes tightly and clenching her fists until her knuckles hurt, wishing for sleep as she did every night.

  Chapter 6

  Bets locked up the salon and thought with dread about the evening ahead, tonight would be a nightmare, she knew it. Kerry had some silly idea that she should cook dinner for them all, joined by a couple of mystery guests, matchmaking for her and Charlotte again no doubt. Today she was thirty years of age, which was bad enough, but she was also being degraded into a blind date organised by her interfering friend. How could Kerry think that she was incapable of finding her own date, she could have invited plenty of men, but obviously, Kerry didn’t trust her choice of partner for a select dinner party?

  After twenty minutes of walking through rain drizzled streets, Bets pushed open the outer door to her apartment block to hear a voice behind her; it was Mrs Blair, one of her neighbours.

  “Hello Mrs Blair, horrible night isn’t it?” Bets said hesitantly, not sure whether today was one of Mrs Blair’s talkative days, or whether it was one of her barely able to say hello days. She sighed as Mrs Blair gave her a wide, brown toothed smile; it was a talkative day, so she could be out here for a while.

  “Hello dear, happy birthday,” replied Mrs Blair, obviously hiding something behind her back.

  “How…?”

  “It was delivered this morning,” she said, revealing a brown paper parcel. “As I was the only one around, I thought that I’d better take it from the Postman. You also had a lovely big bunch of flowers later, but I saw Charlie take those in.”

  Bets nodded and smiled. “Oh well thank you…oh it’s from South Africa. It must be from my aunt Beryl, you say Charlie has the flowers then?” Charlie was the old man who lived opposite Bets, and looked after Alfred during the day.

  “Yes dear, very beautiful red roses, oh about a dozen I would say,” Mrs Blair said, feigning disinterest.

  She obviously had a good look then, nosey old devil, thought Bets, smiley inanely.

  “Well I’d better go and get them and rescue Charlie from Alfred, bye and thanks again.”

  Bets moved off quickly, anxious that Mrs Blair didn’t strike up any further conversation. She rang Charlie’s bell and could instantly hear Alfred barking on the other side of the door.

  “Alright, young lad I’ll let her in…hello Elizabeth had a good day?” Charlie gave the usual nightly greeting.

  Alfred jumped up and tried to lick Bet’s face, but as he was only short, a cross between a Bloodhound and Highland Terrier, he didn’t quite make it and just looked like a sandy coloured piece of fluff on elastic, bouncing up and down.

  “Okay, calm down,” scolded Bets, gently pushing the dog away. “I believe that you’ve got some flowers for me Charlie, what will Edna say?” She smiled at the little man who always wore his flat cap inside the house.

  “Not a lot, she’s at her sister’s house until tomorrow,” he tittered to himself as he shuffled into the overcrowded lounge. “Here you are love, one bunch of red roses; they were left on your doorstep. I noticed them when I took young lad out this morning, someone must have some brass to buy those buggers.” He handed over the deepest shade of red roses that Bets had ever seen.

  “Gosh, they’re beautiful. Thanks Charlie, come on Alfred let’s go home.” Bets turned towards her front door, and then stopped. “Oh, by the way, I won’t be dropping him off until later tomorrow, is that okay? I’m not going into work until lunchtime.”

  “No problem, whenever you’re ready. Have a nice evening then and I’ll see you tomorrow, tara now.” With that he closed the door.

  Bets let herself into the modern airy, slightly chaotic apartment and looked around at the clothes scattered on the sofa; magazines piled on the coffee table and paperwork spilling out of her desk drawer.

  “You know Alfred, one of these days I’m going to get Charlotte around here to organise us a little. Come
on then let’s get you fed and watered.”

  Alfred followed her to the utility room, at the end of the kitchen, where he ate and slept, ready for his supper and a nap. Once Bets had seen to Alfred and washed up the morning’s breakfast dishes, she realised that the roses were still not in water, but first of all, she needed to find out whom they were from. The card just said:

  “Have a lovely birthday, and hopefully an even better evening!”

  Bets was bemused by who could have sent them. The girls at the salon had bought her perfume and a bottle of wine. Kerry would be giving her theirs tonight, and Auntie Beryl had probably sent another disgusting home knitted item of clothing. There was no one else that she ever had gifts from; there wasn’t even a man in the picture who could have sent them. She thought about it some more, as she lounged in a too hot bath, as she put on her make up, and as she dressed in her new skinny jeans and sleeveless shirt. By the time she was pulling on her knee-length boots, she was right out of ideas, and Charlotte had arrived, announcing herself with a very loud toot on her car horn. Bets grabbed her coat, kissed Alfred on the nose and rushed out of the front door into the cold night air.

  “Evening old girl; happy birthday sweetie.” Charlotte leaned across and kissed Bets on the cheek. “Ooh, you smell nice, Roberto Cavalli?”

  “Yes, the girls from work, but you’ll never guess what?”

  “Don’t tell me Auntie Beryl didn’t send you a disgusting home knit.”

  “Oh yes she did, a woolly bikini,” Bets paused to allow Charlotte to react; she did by silently mouthing a profanity. “I’ve had 12 red roses from a mystery benefactor. I have no idea who sent them; they weren’t from you two were they?” Bets looked at Charlotte quizzically.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Ours is in my handbag, down there. God, how exciting, but it could be a stalker, oh dear. How scary is that?”

  “Thanks Charlotte, you’ve really made me feel at ease. Anyway, who do you think these two mystery guests are?” Bets asked, flopping down the vanity mirror on the sun visor to check her appearance.