by Clay, Josie
'Hey pretty lady, whatcha doin? Xx'
'Missing you xx'
'Me too, let's go for a walk and get some air, can't wait to see you xx'
'Good plan, come back soon xx'
'Soon as I can, Minky xx'
‘Love spoke. Would you jump off that cliff for me
‘And be dashed on the rocks below?
‘Yes, I replied.
'For fleetingly, I would have flown'.
I came to the communal door, the curve of her back at the bottom of the window. Standing, she smiled, clutching something heavy to her body. Walking quickly, she bent her knees and placed it on the floor. The practice piece, as big as a catering size box of cornflakes. She had tried
PAR
RAD
IN *
in crisp, graceful script. The best present I'd ever had.
“I need a photo of you” she said, jabbing at her ‘phone.
“Oh God, I hate having my photo taken” I groaned, coming over all shy.
“Come on Minky, smile”, holding the ‘phone in front of me, she let out a tiny fart and I laughed.
“Gotcha” she said.
My ‘phone to her face. She smiled artlessly.
“Perfect” I said. She was perfect.
Shuffling to me on her knees and hugging me around the arse, nuzzling her face into my crotch, an ephemeral Nancy breeze; no, not Nancy, was it Sasha? I let the thought travel off. Besides, Dale was unbuckling my belt.
“I have another present for you” she said suggestively.
I stroked her kinky hair and looking down from this angle, she could almost have been Nancy and I fought to banish the notion with every atom of my being. As I sprawled on the floor and she spread my legs, I watched her hair brush my thighs.
“I love you” I said and her hand found mine.
Chapter 4
We had intended to walk around the reservoir , but now it was dark, so instead we strolled to Highbury Fields.
“This is Nancy's road” I said.
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“I dunno, years ago. I can't remember”.
“What would you do if you saw her now?” Her eyes wide with intrigue.
“I'd be supremely proud that you were on my arm”.
“Would you talk to her?”
“Definitely, I'd want to introduce you”.
“No, I mean, would it freak you out?” she persisted.
I answered honestly, “I don't know”.
“Which is her house?”
“That one”, pointing in the dark street. Curiously, a figure leaning out of the office window, smoking.
“Is that her?” Dale whispered.
“No”.
“It's definitely female” she hissed.
“I don't know who it is”, noticing the Saab wasn't there.
We went to the pre-wisteria incident restaurant where Dale cut up my lamb cylinders and held the tips of my fingers as I rested the fat arm on the table.
“Yours or mine tonight?” she said.
“Yours, I worry about Prudence”.
She smiled. I would never tire of those eyes.
“I'm having a wave of love” I said.
“Me too”.
“It makes it hard to eat”.
“I know”.
She leant in close. “I can still smell you on my fingers, it's turning me on”.
“We should go soon” I said, clenching my pelvic floor.
“What's wrong with us?” she whispered. “This isn't normal”.
“I think it is” I said.
Dale had crammed an entire fist of mints into her mouth from the basket by the till as we crossed Highbury Grange; I could hear them rattling against her teeth. Plucking one out, she popped it in my mouth.
“Let's go down her road again” she garbled, cupping her hand over her mouth. We were going that way anyway. At that moment, the Saab swept past and parked twenty metres away in front of the house. I calculated we would be level with her when she got out.
“There she is” I said with resignation.
“Oh my God, where?” She tightened the hold on my arm and my legs went all slow motion. The tail lights blinked out and the driver's door swung open, illuminating the interior.
“There”.
Now ten metres away and closing. Dale shot the mints out of her mouth like bullets into a hedge, Nancy stepped around the back of the car. We were there. Dale nudged me.
“Hey Nancy” I said.
She stopped and drew her hand above her eyes.
“Oh, Minette hi, how are you?” she said automatically, shifting uneasily. Eyes flitting to Dale, she smiled. I was just about to say something banal when Dale did it for me.
“She's been in the wars I'm afraid”, motioning towards the cast.
“Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that” Nancy said, eager to get away.
“I'm Dale”, relentlessly, offering her hand, “Pleased to meet you”.
“Nancy” said Nancy, extending hers.
They were actually going to touch each other. What a mind fuck, tantamount to a threesome. The briefest of shakes, completing the triangulation, the tiniest hint of brine in the air.
“It's nice to see you again” I said, stepping forward and breaking into a walk, half dragging Dale.
“Likewise” Nancy said “Take care, Minette”.
“Bye”, Dale waved.
Walking in silence until Nancy's front door slammed.
“No way” I giggled, “you're so naughty”.
She hung on my arm laughing.
“Hi, I'm Dale” I squeaked in a chipmunk voice, “good to meet you”.
“I'm sorry. I wanted to suss her out”.
“And did you?”
“Beautiful” she said.
“Very insightful”.
“But quite small”.
“She's not small, we're just big”.
“Anyway” she said, continuing her assessment, “you bug her”.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she wasn't exactly relaxed was she?”
“That could be unrelated to me” I reasoned. “She could have been desperate to get in and see the kids, there might have been an emergency”.
“No, she would have said, plus she was checking us out, she noticed we had the same boots. I saw her eyes. Also, she was rigid, like a rabbit in the headlights”.
“She's probably scared of me” I said.
“That's a point, I hope we didn't come across as giant bullies”.
“Perhaps she saw that we are Nephilim” I said.
“Nephilim, remind me”.
“They were giants - the progeny of male angels and human women and consequently barren”.
“Oh yes, the fallen ones” she nodded.
After a while, she slipped her hand up the back of my jacket. I'd been checking myself carefully for damage. She knew this and had been allowing me time.
“How do you feel Minky?”
“Happy”. And it was true.
Chapter 5
A sleeping Dale was like a lion. Warm, heavy limbs resting across me, tensing a little each time I twitched, as if I were prey she was keeping for later. A much smaller cat curled up on the pillow next to her hair. You couldn't compare Nancy and Dale; they were two different species, although both at the top of the food chain. Their only corresponding characteristics were the hair, the gender and the fact that they had both taken a shine to me. Besides, Dale was real whereas Nancy was a wraith, a pillar of smoke. For the first time in nearly a decade, I was ready to move on, over it ...closure, as they say.
Dale and I spent every night together and on April Fools’ Day, they cut off the cast, which I kept because it was art. My arm was white and wasted.
“Hello Minky's left arm” Dale had said, “we meet at last.”
I embarked on a vigorous exercise regime to fight off the deterioration of age for her. Not only pedalling at full pelt to and f
rom work, but at the end of each day I swam one hundred or more lengths with rigid plastic paddles on my hands, to prevent bingo wings and keep my torso toned.
We'd been restructured at work and I was losing interest. The cuts meant I now had three roles, none of which I liked. I decided to decrease my output and see if anyone noticed ...they didn't. I'd learnt much and was ready for a change.
The day of my first art class and I was having reservations.
“But I'm not an art therapist”, whining to Dale. Blue barge Celeste wasn't smoking today.
“I don't think they're expecting you to be. The only support you're supposed to provide is artistic. You won't have to interpret their work, only critique it. You'll be fine, I know you will”.
Tracing a small cock and balls in the dust on the work bench, I watched as she chipped at a stone block the size of a portable telly. Her concentration total, her strong, brown hands skilfully controlling the mallet and chisel, which she occasionally rolled between her fingers like a fat Havana, to work out the kinks. After half an hour, she downed tools and approached me.
“You've been thinking about something” I said. “I could hear your brain whirring”. Her hands on my thighs, she brought her face to mine.
“Correct” she said and kissed me slowly, still cogitating. “I want you to come to Sweden and meet my dad and don't worry about the plane ticket, it's my idea, so I'll get it”.
A nervous traveller, I instinctively wracked my brains for plausible obstacles. But Dale wanted it and I would do anything for her.
“That's a great idea” I said, “where does he live?”
“He's supposed to live in Stockholm, but he's spending more and more time in the house by the sea; he goes there all summer. Minky, you'll love it”. She was getting excited and it was infectious.
“We can swim and cook” she continued, “and just relax and be all 'mysig'”.
Familiar with mysig, she used it often, it sort of meant cosy. “And we can canoodle in the boat house. I've told my dad all about you, it'll be brilliant, Mink”.
She kissed the back of my neck and cupped my tits.
“Don't get me all worked up” I said, “I've got to teach soon”.
Sliding her hand between my thighs.
“We've got time” she whispered.
Half an hour later, all pink and flustered, setting out materials and absently moving chairs, unable to keep anything in my head other than the thought of Dale. Still struggling with the concept that she loved me. It beggared belief, perhaps she was mad.
At two o'clock the girls filed in like an obedient flock of sheep, not shrieking and chattering like most teenage girls in groups I'd encountered.
“Hello ladies, I'm Minette”, counting heads. “I'm glad you could all make it”, trying to sound warm and approachable. “OK, first I need to learn your names, so I'd like you to introduce yourselves”.
They all had lanyards; it seemed everyone did these days, even school kids.
My eyes settled on a Muslim girl, the first for shearing. Consumed by a hot blush, she shrunk into her hijab and stared at the floor. I'd made my first mistake. Had I not been warned that these girls would be apprehensive and self-conscious?
“Hi Bazlah” I said, squinting at her name tag. She smiled painfully.
“Hi” she said, still favouring the floor. Magdala's eyes also glued to my boots , but flitting up momentarily. Choi winced benignly.
“And Antoinette”.
“Toni, I'm Toni” she said and I recognised myself in that exhausted, gaunt face. “Toni, I'll try and remember that”.
“Dolapo” mumbled the next girl. She clearly had a different kind of eating disorder.
“More like Dollop” sniggered Tenielle, establishing herself as the black sheep. Dolapo's shoulders sagged.
“Hello Tenielle” I said, placing my open hand in front of her mouth. Her afro teased and straightened into a prodigious pompadour, the sides and back buzz-cut with lightning bolts. She looked at me, undecided.
“Spit it out” I said.
“Spit what out?
“That trouble gum you're chewing on”.
A bleat of giggles.
“Take the shame” Toni hissed.
Tenielle gamely brought her thumb and forefinger to her mouth, plucked out the imaginary gum and dropped it into my palm with a defiant smile.
“Thank you” I said. “Teneille has drawn my attention to something very important - we must all respect one another, does everyone understand?” Six nodding heads: the 'respect' word always got them.
The first thing I'd planned was self portraits. Seating them at the bench in front of the window, I handed out six mirror tiles.
“I'd like you not only to draw your own faces” I said, pacing up and down, “but also to look at what else you can see around the mirror and outside the window and incorporate that into your composition”. Their eyes moved to the clouds. “It doesn't have to be a straightforward landscape, although you can do that if you want”. I was loathe to suggest birds, for example, because they'd all draw birds, either through laziness or in an effort to please me. “Does everyone understand what I mean?” Hesitant nodding.
“So we do like, the mirror in the middle with other stuff around it?” Toni said.
“Yes, that's it, but whatever you choose to draw is entirely up to you”. They took up their graphite pencils. “Don't forget the scene will be changing - we have movement here, it's not a static landscape”.
Not wanting to crowd them, I took an inventory of materials, interested to see if they focused on themselves or on the landscape. Teneille coloured in her fingernails with a blue felt-tip. After a few minutes, I meandered over to Bazlah. Her hand froze on the paper and dropped to her lap.
“It's gone a bit wrong” she stammered.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because it's like, all small at the top and then my mouth goes all big and that”.
“Did you start with your eyes?”
“Yeah, and my hijab”.
“Well, you started cautiously so you drew small, but as you got into the swing of it, your confidence grew and your drawing got bigger”.
“Yeah, I did that too” said Magdala.
“Sometimes, it's worth just looking at what you're going to draw for a few minutes. Decide how you're going to translate it onto the paper. Try not to start at one end and finish at the other”. I could feel them struggling to understand.
“Can I start again?” Bazlah said.
A chorus of 'me too'.
“Of course, this isn't an exam, this is your time to express yourself freely with no pressure”.
The mirrors began to rattle as if vibrated by a passing freight train. The girls looked at me, with the exception of Tenielle who was systematically kicking the leg of the bench.
“Is there a problem, Tenielle?” I sensed a nascent earthquake. She continued her attention-seeking punt.
“This is wack, man, I ain't got time for this, trust me”.
For me, her cocksure demeanour hid nothing of her disposition. She was a self-loather like me, plus we had something else in common. I put my hand on her shoulder and she stiffened as if to say something deeply insulting. Increasing my grip, I felt her submission.
“Please step outside with me, Tenielle. Carry on” I said to the room, “I won't be long”.
The further from the classroom, the more out of my depth I felt. She slouched on the wall and put much effort into maintaining a scowl, an empty storm ...teenage weather changeable. I didn't have to wait long.
“Whatever I do is shit” she said. “The drawing will be shit”.
“But I know you've got skill, otherwise you wouldn't have been put up for this course. No-one wants to set you up to fail”.