by Kot, Eleyne
When the new band enters, my heart pumps with force; here they are, my beloved Steels, well, just unaware of my eagerness to greet them. They joke and greet our guys calmly, without a touch of malice. We hear the men laugh aloud. For a moment, we are completely forgotten. They bring plastic bags, predictably carrying beer and some edible things. Then, they all head towards the kitchen door, which is open, and the new guests finally notice us. They begin eyeing us from head to feet, with a look of expectation on their faces.
“Oh, here are the gals,” says Drew, “the foreign gals I was telling you about.”
They all grin and come close to us, talking at the same time, so I’m unable to hear and understand exactly what they are saying. They seem to have targeted us: Jack is looking at me; Andy and Alan fix their eyes on Eleyne and Mike on Babette. I stay close to Colin, waiting for introductions, so he presents me.
“She´s Yasmin, a gal from Argentina. She´s doing a research job here, aren’t you, Yasmin?”
“Yes, and they are my friends: Eleyne and Babette.”
“Are all of you from Argentina?” asks Andy. “We were in Brazil, pretty near.”
“Oh no,” says Eleyne, “I´m European, from Poland.”
“Poland, Eastern Europe,” comments Jack, “so are you working together on a project? And she?”
They all look at Babette, who smiles vaguely confused, as if trying to get away from here as soon as possible.
“I’m Babette, I come from Paris.”
“My girlfriend is from Paris, too,” adds Alan. “She´s a fashion model.”
“Lucky you,” says Babette, “I’m not a model, I’m a graduate of chemistry.”
“You should be a model,” Mike breaks in, “you’re too pretty not to be out on a catwalk or a stage. You look like a star. Lucky Ted.”
Babette blushes and hesitates not knowing what to say; we realize she wants to avoid new pretenders or at least, to be left alone with Ted. I know they’re watching us closely. Drew must have opened his big mouth and poured a lot of tales about us and our love-making. They burst out laughing while walking into the kitchen, then they pass to the living room leaving some of the plastic bags with us. We start to arrange all the snacks they have brought into bowls. The men slam the door behind them and we stay alone in the kitchen.
“We’ll take all these to the living room and leave them watching their game,” says Eleyne, “I need my bubble bath, won't you come with me?”
“No,” I shake my head, “I want to see the match with them. Although it is England... I won´t cheer for England but maybe... I could support Colin's team for tonight.”
“What's wrong with England?” asks Eleyne, then she gets it: some international incident was mentioned before.
I nod my head and add. “Well, we’re also eternal rivals in football. We hate each other during the Argentina - England matches and now there are some additional hard feelings.”
“Oh my God!” exclaims Babette, “good thing they’re not playing tonight. Hey, did you notice how they looked at us? They were assessing our boobs and arses every second.”
“Well, they are men, Babette, Jim was explaining this to us today in the car. He said men always look at boobs and asses.” I venture, “and we’re not exactly dressed like Catholic nuns.”
“Maybe it’s better for us to change to something more discreet,” Babette takes a look to her legs, “jeans or a long skirt.”
“And what about those revealing tops? Your boobs are about to explode out of that,” says Eleyne, “I won´t change even if Tony asks me. Anyway, I don't even have discreet tops. Everything has low necks.”
“I feel comfortable as I am,” I admit, “Just a strapless top and shorts.”
“They seem curious about us,” says Babette. “But I don’t want to talk much about us.”
“OK, you are my friends and assistants in archaeological research. This is what we can certainly say.”
They smile at the same time and Babette sighs.
“Archaeological research...oh shit!! Do we look like serious scientists?”
We laugh again. We’re arranging the snacks, putting all the things that we prepared before dinner on trays, too, the same with the beers and some soda. Colin comes in and asks me.
“Is everything all right? We have already taken a couple of beers to the living room, but they are nothing compared to all that they and us are used to drinking.”
“OK,” I agree, “we’re taking all of these for you but don´t drink too much, or you will not notice the difference between my maid outfit and a football player outfit.”
He laughs and turns back to the living, but Eleyne stops him.
“Wait Colin, take this with you,” and she hands him a tray with bowls of cubed cheese, olives and sausages. She has put some toothpicks there, too.
“What are these?” Colin points to the olives, “do they have some kind of dressing?”
“Olives with herbal and garlic olive oil. A home-made, healthy snack. They are really tasty,” she answers when he looks quite curiously at the snack.
“The fish was delicious too,” he praises her, “though I could feel a lot of garlic there.”
“Yes, these guys in Algarve put huge amounts of garlic almost into everything,” she smiles, “though I didn't add as much as they usually do.”
He takes the tray to the living room and when he's out of earshot Eleyne says.
“They really had better not drink too much beer. I want their dicks operational. Try to keep an eye on them, Yasmin.”
I giggle wickedly.
“You think they won’t get them up after beer. And that they will let me restrain their entertainment?”
“If they down 4 or 5 beers each, they only will be able to pee, come on. And they’ve already drunk some with dinner.”
Babette is giggling now too.
“Well, I believe we can convince them. Anyway, at this moment I don’t believe they have more than 2 cans for each of them there. They should still be ok after that.”
“I think they may have slightly more, the Steels have brought 3 six-packs, and our guys also took some beer from the fridge.” I fret.
“I’ll try to coax the Steels to drink as much as they can,” I promise when Eleyne changes the subject.
“Colin always controls, supervises, checks. You saw his reaction when he found out I had taken the cuffs without his permission,” she mocks.
I smile at her.
“I love that. He´s so sweet.”
“Hmmm,” she frowns, “but you have to put a limit on him.”
“Sure, I’m doing it.”
“To tell the truth,” Babette raises her eyebrows, “nobody notices that you’re doing it.”
Her remark makes me and Eleyne giggle again. After we manage to calm down, I take one tray with snacks and step into the living room, followed by Eleyne and Babette carrying their trays.
In the living room the beasts are doing what they please; beer cans are already on the floor, and the TV set has been removed from its site and placed in the middle of the room. They are very noisy when we enter. All the gloom halo has vanished.
Eleyne’s Story:
Well, the new guests definitely notice our boobs and asses. Drew must have had a big mouth and told them everything. I feel kind of relieved that they’re not staying after the match and that our guys don't feel up to sharing tonight.
Anyway, we arrange all bring all the snacks to the living room. We place our load on the table and I choose to sit between Tony and Jim. They’re both nibbling the olives and cheese and drinking beer.
“These olives are really excellent, Eleyne,” exclaims Tony, putting his arm around me.
“I know, that's why I made them. I love them too,” we laugh and I pick some olives for me too, but I decide to stick to wine. Jim munches olives and cheese, too, looking very content.
“Really tasty, the fish was fantastic too!”
“Well, you guys ate most of
it. I was so sure you would,” I joke. Then whisper to Tony and Jim.
“Guys, don't exaggerate with beer, otherwise you won't even notice what we'll be wearing later on. And, for sure, you won't be able to appreciate it properly,” I wink at them. Tony's hand gets into my hair and caresses it softly.
“Sure, we’re keeping it in mind.”
I see that the game is almost beginning so I make my leave.
“Tony, I'm going to have my bubble bath now,” he nods. “Babette, are you going with me?”
“Yes, I'll join you in a few minutes,” she answers.
“And you, Yasmin?” asks Colin, ”are you going to take a bath too?”
“No,” she laughs. “Don't forget that in Argentina we’re crazy about football. I'm staying with you guys.”
The guys cheer her loudly and she adds.
“Guess, who will be louder during the game? Me or you?”
We all laugh but as the game is starting I kiss Tony and then Jim and leave them. I go downstairs to investigate the jacuzzi. Indeed, it turns out to be quite big, me and Babette for sure will fit in it comfortably, but I really doubt if three people would. I turn on the water and go to prepare other bathing necessities. In the kitchen, I grab a wine cooler and a bottle of chardonnay. I take two glasses, some snacks and then bring everything downstairs. Then in the bedroom I pick a big towel and toiletries, including the bubble bath that I bought, as well as my laptop, so that we can listen to some music. When I enter the jacuzzi room this time, Babette is already there looking at the wine and glasses.
“I see that you do take all the possible pleasure when you take a bath,” she comments.
“Why shouldn't I? You only live once. Do you have your towel?”
“Yes, I brought it. Should we lock the door?” She's obviously concerned that somebody unauthorized may enter. I'm a bit worried about it, too, but I decide that it's better to leave the door unlocked in case anything happened.
“I don't know... Maybe Yasmin changes her mind, or one of our guys can come and then they won't be able to enter.”
She doesn't seem convinced but she says nothing. I turn on the laptop and search for some relaxing music on the hard disc, I know I have it somewhere. While we are undressing, the bathtub is filling. For a moment I deliberate what to do with the collar. I don’t really want to get it wet again so my practical side wins with Tony’s command. I take it off for now, after the bath I’ll put it on again.
“Shall we turn on the jacuzzi first, and after we get the massage, pour some bubble bath or shall we pour it at once?” I ask her. “In the second case, we'll have the foam almost walking outside after a very short time.”
She thinks for a moment. “I want a massage first,” she says entering the bathtub, “how do you turn on this stuff?” She starts to fiddle with buttons and switches. In a moment she has nice whips of water massaging her back. I just turn on the music, put a little table with our wine and snacks closer and join her. The water massage is nice, indeed. I reach for the bottle.
“Do you want some chardonnay?”
“Yes, please.”
So I pour two glasses and hand her one. I start sipping mine.
“This is what I call relaxing,” I purr.
Yasmin’s story:
The game has begun and the guys are very excited; although it’s a friendly match, they know next year the two teams will meet in Mexico. I’m sitting on the sofa between Colin and Drew, drinking beer and munching olives and cheese.
“They're very good,” I admit, “I rather avoid eating strong-flavored food, especially garlic but Eleyne is right. These are delicious.”
“Very good,” confirms Colin, “Eleyne is so touchy about her cooking, but she´s right, she has a natural talent for cooking.”
“Mine is not limited,” I comment.
“No, no,” says Drew, “but best keep this talk for later.”
All the men shout and stand up at the same time, the Germans are near the penalty area, danger is present but the player misses the opportunity and England takes the ball once again. I shake my head. Andy notices and asks.
“What's wrong?”
“Well, the team,” I laugh. “They’re playing very bad, really horribly.”
I hear a noisy uprising from every corner, protesting.
“She's right, you know,” Jack admits, “England is playing fucking horribly.”
“You said we wouldn´t ever be champions,” comments Jim. The Steels look at me, moving their eyes from the TV screen to my person.
“Why?” asks Andy. “Can you see the future?” he smiles and seems to be a very nice guy, with bright clear eyes. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh, she comes from a very football ill-minded country, that’s all,” Tony breaks in. “You hate us?”
I laugh and admit.
“We’re not precisely friends in football matters, but I just quoted what some journalists predict: England won´t be a World Champion if their team is so poor...”
Colin sighs with relief and glances menacingly to Jim, who is simply drinking more beer.
“You need another religion, this one makes you talk foolishly, don’t you Jim?” asks Colin.
“Maybe,” he admits and keeps on munching olives.
The English team seems to be suffering from the pressure of the Germans. The men stop talking, though they are still eating and sipping their beers slowly. A roar comes from the TV screen and around me a lot of curses explode like a bomb. A new list of insulting words is added to my English vocabulary. The English are losing. Germany has scored a goal. All the faces are full of bitterness now. Mike says.
“Don´t you realize? This girl is clever… Unfortunately, she´s right. Wouldn’t you like to tell our future?”
They laugh and Colin says.
“She would. You will eat more garlic dressed olives.”
They grin but keep looking at the match on TV. Now and then I pick a curious glance from one or another of them, but I pretend not to be aware of it. After some time the match becomes boring, emotionless. The English defend their stand, but are not aggressive enough to score a goal and get even.
“Bad perspective for the future,” comments Jack, “this bloody team stinks.”
“Now that the first part has ended,” I say, “I can go for something more to eat and drink.”
“Will you, hun?” asks Jim. “Bring more of those Mediterranean things.”
“I am going to check to see if some olives survived,” I smile at him and go to the kitchen. But I hear a voice behind me saying.
“Yasmin, we will take care of the snacks and beers,” Tony is talking to me while I turn to him. “Why don´t you go and take a look-see at Eleyne and Babette?”
Eleyne’s Story:
While the guys are watching the match, me and Babette just spend our time lazily in the bathtub. The water whips are massaging our backs, the music is playing, we are slowly sipping our wine. It's so peaceful and relaxing that I almost fall asleep after a few minutes. But then I receive a poke from Babette.
“Don't sleep, woman. We have things to do here?”
“What things?”
She hands me a little bowl with some yellowish creamy substance.
“What is it?”
“A face mask. Heavy cream with honey and baking soda. We have to beautify ourselves, don't we?”
I poke my finger inside and lick it.
“Mmmmrrr, tasty...”
“Don't eat it!” she exclaims, “just put some on your face and leave some for me.”
I comply, but I lick my fingers anyway, after handing her the bowl. She applies the mask on her face, too, and I start laughing.
“A pity I didn't lock the door. If any of the guys entered just now, he would run away screaming in panic.”
We both chuckle.
“That's the price of beauty. Now, we have to leave it on for 20 minutes.”
So we just continue sitting, chatting and drinking our win
e.
Suddenly a big roar from upstairs makes us jump up.
“Holy shit! What was this noise?”
“Somebody must have scored,” I try to listen. I think I can hear some swearing and cursing, “I think it was East Germany's goal. Otherwise the guys wouldn't be swearing so much.”
“Men and football,” she sighs. “Funny how the sound carries here. I thought we wouldn't hear anything from upstairs.”
“Did you hear us yesterday night?” I ask her, “I mean, when we were all fucking in the living room?”
“Of course, we did. You were making a lot of noise,.” she laughs
“Why didn't you join us?” I ask her curiously. “Was Ted in possessive mode again.”
“Well, yesterday night we were both a bit tipsy. Actually more than tipsy, I’m even a bit surprised you didn’t hear us, we were pretty noisy climbing up. And in this state we were not really able to do anything naughty. Ted just fell asleep cuddling to me.”
I giggle and pour more wine as our glasses are almost empty. And I decide it's time to add the bubble bath to the tub. I pour a liberal amount of it, the tub is quite big. While the jacuzzi stirs the water producing foam, Babette takes the bottle with the cosmetics from me and starts reading the label.
“Gods, they really put a lot of crap into this. I hope all cosmetics in the ‘80s are not like this,” she exclaims.
“What do you mean?” I ask her.
“It's full of artificial colorants, preservatives and whatever other shit. I'd make a better one,” she exasperates. “If I could have a business with homemade, natural cosmetics here I could make a fortune.”
“Yasmin did mention something to me. Do you really make cosmetics yourself?”
“Yes, me and some of my mates started this little business and also opened a small beauty salon where we use them. But you know what it is like in 2011, business is slow... And we didn't start that long ago.”
“Do you have a website? You should. You can sell much more things online,” I suggest.
“Our website is being made. But those assholes who are supposed to make it take their time,” she makes a face, “sometimes I could strangle them, they’re so slow, always finding excuses for delays.”