The Love Square

by Laura Jane Williams

Francesco laughed too. ‘I don’t think I would have worded it that way, but that’s what I like too. When I can be that way, and so you can be that way. It makes me feel like …’ He didn’t finish his sentence.

  ‘You can tell me,’ Penny urged. ‘There isn’t a wrong thing you can say. That’s why we’re doing this, isn’t it? To be …’ Now it was her turn to not finish a sentence.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Francesco. ‘You’re right.’

  ‘So …?’

  ‘I think what I mean is, you know. I respect you, obviously.’

  ‘Obviously,’ Penny said.

  ‘And I’m not saying I want to, I don’t know, give you a golden shower or anything.’

  ‘No judgement,’ said Penny, straight-faced.

  ‘But I like it when it’s like … losing control. Really going hard. I don’t know. I don’t want it to sound like I’ve been watching crap porn and I want you with a gag in your mouth and tied up to a bondage table. I just mean …’

  ‘That you want to fuck me like a dirty little side piece?’

  ‘If I say yes, is that bad?’

  Penny turned around so that water sloshed over the side of the bath and she could face him.

  ‘Francesco, that’s exactly what I want too. Go for it like you don’t care about being polite.’

  She felt him press against her stomach.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, searching for him under the bubbles. ‘Is that a hint?’

  They started slowly, the room lit by candles, music softly playing. Francesco talked her through the bag of toys he’d had delivered, and the practicality of it – explaining speed settings and the mechanics and the angles of each thing – was so at odds with them sitting across from each other, naked, that it was the foreplay before the foreplay. By the time they finally touched Penny was practically quivering with desire, and within minutes was panting Francesco’s name, climaxing and whimpering, ‘Oh. My. God.’

  Francesco came to her and kissed her deeply.

  ‘That was so hot to watch,’ he said.

  ‘Give me a second to recover,’ Penny replied, catching her breath. ‘And I will return the favour.’

  ‘To be honest,’ Francesco said, ‘watching you writhe around like that felt like the favour.’

  Penny chuckled and jokingly smacked his arm. ‘Save it for your wank bank,’ she giggled, before letting out another satisfied sigh.

  As the spring sun started to peek through the curtains, the pair lay entwined in each other, the music having stopped, the candles burnt down, just the two of them and the dawn silence.

  ‘Five times. I can’t believe …’

  ‘I know,’ said Francesco. ‘I was really starting to freak out about it. Everything else was so great but I thought, what if we don’t get the hang of it? Would we have had to break up?’

  ‘Well, five times certainly makes up for a few false starts.’

  ‘I’ll say,’ said Francesco, slipping his hand further down her body and forcing Penny to pull away.

  ‘Mister, you’re going to have to feed me before I have the energy to go again. I think we’ve proved our point.’

  Francesco retreated. ‘Fair play,’ he said. ‘I’ll poke about for a breakfast menu in a minute. I’m sure they’ll do room service.’

  ‘Oh, for sure,’ said Penny. ‘But don’t get up. Don’t move yet. I like you right here.’

  Penny closed her eyes, her face nuzzled into Francesco’s neck from behind, the big spoon to his little spoon. She was her normal hot-water-bottle self, but it made her feel womanly and powerful, pushed up against him this way.

  ‘Are you real?’ she said, quietly.

  ‘If you’re real, I’m real,’ Francesco whispered.

  ‘Falling in friendship,’ Penny said, and Francesco moved so that they were nose-to-nose.

  ‘Falling in friendship,’ he repeated.

  Penny traced the outline of his face with her fingertip.

  ‘I like to be the one who makes you laugh,’ she said. ‘That’s my favourite thing. The first morning you came to the café somebody on the phone made you laugh, and I saw through the window, and I thought – I wonder what it would take to make a man that handsome laugh so much.’

  ‘Somebody probably told me a fart joke,’ Francesco said. Then he added, ‘I knew you were watching me you know. I could feel it. You barely said hello to me after you let me in. You just carried on talking to Stu. And I thought, who is this woman who doesn’t even care who is delivering her bread? But then I felt you staring.’

  ‘Mr Ego.’

  ‘No, not Mr Ego. I just … I wanted you to notice me.’

  ‘Job done.’

  ‘Making me wait weeks before you texted me, though … Totally outrageous.’

  ‘No! Don’t!’ Penny said. ‘I still don’t know what I was thinking. I was intimidated.’

  ‘Intimidated.’ He arched his eyebrow, disbelievingly.

  ‘Nobody ever fancies me. I didn’t actually think you did. I dunno. This is cringey, but sometimes I feel … unloveable. Like everyone is going to have their turn except me.’

  ‘You’re very loveable, Penny Bridge. I promise you that.’

  Penny pulled a face.

  ‘Hey,’ Francesco said urgently. ‘Listen to me. I know what came before me, but I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.’

  Penny shook her head as if trying to shake off her thoughts. ‘Urgh,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. I get it.’

  ‘I don’t think you do,’ she said. ‘I think you’ve never had to be alone.’

  Francesco didn’t say anything.

  ‘My ex,’ she said. ‘Mo. I honestly thought … you know. I’m still so, so mad at him for leaving. He left me when I had nobody and nothing. Right after I got diagnosed. Why would somebody do that to a person they say they love, Francesco?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know,’ he said. Then he changed his tone. ‘If I ever met him …’ he said, in a silly voice.

  Penny chuckled sadly.

  ‘I think I’m mad at myself for dating a coward,’ she continued. ‘We’d been together five years and the second my life didn’t revolve around him, he bailed. He couldn’t even wait until I’d had my radiotherapy. And it makes me so mad that I wasn’t even surprised. It was so common on the ward. There was one woman I met in treatment who’d hired a private investigator to prove that her husband was cheating on her. Isn’t that horrible? All these women with breast cancer married to men who can’t cope when somebody they say they love gets sick.’

  ‘Have you seen him since?’

  ‘Clemmie has. She bumped into him getting off a bus on Oxford Street and slapped him, and apparently he burst into tears.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘That’s so not Clemmie, slapping somebody. I mean, it’s basically assault. But apparently he just cried and cried, and she called him pathetic, and not long after his mum called me to apologize. She said she was disgusted by him.’

  It didn’t hurt her anymore – not really. It was weird how somebody she’d known for half a decade would disappear, not even in a cloud of smoke, simply … there one day, gone the next. Just like her dad.

  Francesco stroked her arm. Eventually he said: ‘You know, if you were married to some bloke called Mo right now I wouldn’t have a hard-on pressed up against your leg in the fanciest hotel I’ve ever stayed in. And not to minimize your pain or anything but bloody hell I feel like the luckiest bastard in London.’

  Instantly the mood was changed, and Penny was relieved. She didn’t want to think about the bad men in her life when such a good one was beside her in bed.

  ‘How can you be ready to go again?’ Penny exclaimed. ‘It’s a physical impossibility. You’ve got the libido of a teenager!’

  ‘There’s just something about you, Penny Bridge, that really turns me on.’

  ‘Who was your last girlfriend? You haven’t told me about her.’

  ‘Well …
’ said Francesco. ‘She took my heart out of my chest, and held it in her hand, and clenched her fist until it was pulp. She cheated on me. If there is one thing I don’t get it is cheating – it’s the most disrespectful thing anyone can do. Let the record show that she regrets it, though. It was a year ago and she still sometimes calls. I’m glad she feels bad. So, when you talk about what a happy guy I am, know that there is a woman out there who I hope never forgives herself.’

  ‘Oh, Francesco. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘People hurt other people, don’t they?’

  ‘I promise never to hurt you, okay? Not if I can help it.’

  ‘I promise never to hurt you either,’ Francesco said. ‘Not if I can help it.’

  ‘And I know it’s not polite to brag,’ Penny said in a Personal Podcast to Clementine, ‘but Jesus. It’s a wonder I haven’t got a water infection we’ve been doing it that much. He’s stayed at mine every night for a week now, and to be honest we don’t even use the toys most of the time. It’s like – well, sorry, I know you’re my sister and everything, and this is probably too much information but … now we know we don’t have to be so bloody well-mannered with each other we can just let it rip, you know? Which is amazing, and also interesting because now I’m thinking that if before there was a reason he wasn’t Mr Perfect, but now it’s great sex … does that mean there’s nothing wrong with him? Surely there is. I just can’t figure it out. I’ll bet he forgets my birthday. Or loses all of his hair. Or … oh I don’t know. Somebody comes out of the woodwork and says he’s her Me Too man. I know you’re going to tell me to stop looking for faults, because that’s exactly what I’d say to you, but if only I could find one I would! I promise I would! Anyway. Shall we do dinner tomorrow? All four of us? I want you to meet him.’

  Clementine and Rima loved him.

  ‘He’s wonderful,’ Clementine said as Penny deposited their dirty dessert plates into the sink. ‘The way he looks at you makes me very happy. He worships you.’

  Penny looked over her shoulder to where Francesco was sitting with Rima, talking about something that made Rima cry, ‘No! That can’t be true! I don’t believe you!’ but she was laughing, signalling that whatever he was saying, she absolutely did.

  ‘I don’t need to be worshipped …’ Penny started, but her sister patted her arm and said: ‘Yes Penny, you do. And you deserve to be.’

  Penny might not have needed it, but she certainly did love it.

  ‘I liked being there tonight,’ Francesco said later, as they lay in bed, sweaty and happy.

  ‘I liked you being there too,’ said Penny. ‘Isn’t Rima wonderful? I can’t believe the good fortune of being raised with one sister and now having two.’

  ‘That’s a beautiful thing to say,’ Francesco said, kissing the top of her head. ‘And I’m excited to see the whole family in action tomorrow.’

  ‘Me too. Clementine, Rima, Uncle David and Eric – we all hold each other close,’ Penny said. ‘There’s a weird bond when you decide to choose to love your family. Everyone knows they should love their family, but when you make a decision to love them, I mean to like them, as people, and to keep showing up even when things are hard and uncomfortable and everyone knows exactly how to push your buttons … I feel really lucky. I mean, my sister and her wife, my uncle and his husband, me and everything I went through, all banding together to be this unit, even though we’re all over the country – well, with Clem travelling like she does, all over the world! – it’s special. And now you’re here.’

  ‘I am,’ Francesco said. ‘So I passed the test?’

  ‘The practical element,’ said Penny. ‘Tomorrow morning you have the written portion of the exam.’

  ‘What happens after that?’

  ‘You finally get to meet Uncle David, I suppose.’

  ‘Crikey.’

  ‘I know. The honour will be all yours.’

  ‘We should go to sleep so we’re ready for it.’

  ‘We should,’ said Penny.

  ‘But you’re so warm,’ said Francesco, ‘and so naked …’

  He disappeared under the duvet to kiss Penny’s collarbone, her chest, her breasts. He kept kissing, lower and lower, and Penny closed her eyes and sighed contentedly.

  ‘Francesco?’ Penny said, when they finally tried to go to sleep.

  ‘Mmmmm?’ he said, drowsy.

  ‘Don’t freak out, but – do you want kids?’

  She could feel Francesco open his eyes in the dark, even though she couldn’t see him.

  ‘Now?’ he said, immediately wider awake and cheeky with it.

  ‘One day. In theory. You know.’

  He thought about it. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘When the time is right, and the woman is right, yeah. It’s what life is all about, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah, I think so.’ She paused, thinking of how to phrase the next part of her question. ‘What do you think about adoption?’

  ‘Adoption?’

  ‘You know, like, having children that aren’t biologically yours but still being their dad.’

  He took a moment before he answered. ‘Do you want to adopt?’

  ‘I’m just asking in theory, really. Do you think you could do it?’

  Francesco stroked her arm and nuzzled into her neck. ‘I think there’s a million ways to make a family, and I’m open to them all,’ he said.

  Penny closed her eyes, smiling. ‘I think the same,’ she replied. ‘Night.’

  8

  ‘Oh my god,’ said Penny, her phone screen lighting up her face in the darkness. ‘Francesco, wake up. Francesco!’

  Francesco stirred and looked at the clock on the bedside table – it was 5 a.m.

  ‘It’s Uncle David. Something happened.’

  He propped himself up on one elbow. ‘What? What happened?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Something to do with his heart? He’s at the hospital. I’ve got to …’

  Francesco reached out a hand. ‘Hey,’ he said, his touch warm and his voice calm. ‘I’m here. It’s okay. Get dressed. I’ll take you.’

  Penny could barely hear him. It felt like she’d been hit in the stomach with a plank of wood. All Eric’s text said, after a string of missed calls, was: We’re at the Derby Royal. He’s asking for you. It started with chest pains, waiting to find out more. Call me!!

  The next few hours were a blur. Francesco borrowed Safiya’s bread delivery van and drove at one hundred miles per hour up the M1. It got lighter outside. Penny remembered realizing, sat in the hospital waiting room, that she was wearing her pyjama shorts under her jeans instead of underwear. She remembered how pale Eric had looked – she might remember that forever – and how little there was of him when they’d hugged, as if he’d shrunk from the worry. She remembered walking into the emergency room and wanting to walk back out, because Uncle David did not look like Uncle David.

  ‘Eric …’ Penny said. And then she burst into tears.

  Francesco stayed with her through all of it, feeding her sugared tea when she refused to eat and calling Clementine to establish when she’d arrive with Rima. He’d gone down to the hospital shop to get a flannel, toothbrush and toothpaste so that Penny could freshen up, and let her rest her head in his lap, stroking her hair, as they waited for David to come out of surgery. He’d stayed, even in the scariest bits – especially because they were scary – and Penny had let herself need him throughout all of it. She held his hand, and didn’t let go.

  ‘You had me so fucking worried, Davvy.’

  Penny all but launched herself at her uncle’s bed, where he was sat up, feebly eating a hospital dinner. He was the colour of the pillowcase.

  ‘He had us all worried,’ Eric said, shaking his head. ‘Fuck is about right.’

  ‘The language in this room!’ Uncle David croaked. ‘Can we just tone it down!’ He didn’t sound like himself. He sounded paper thin, as though if Penny blew on him hard enough, he would crumple under the weight of her breath.

  ‘Y
ou sound like hell,’ she told him.

  ‘Darling, I feel like hell,’ he replied, feebly.

  The three of them sat in silence for a moment, exhaling in the relief that he was alive, all of them acknowledging that it was a very close call.

  ‘He works too hard,’ Eric said. ‘If you didn’t work so hard …’

  ‘Eric. Come on. Now’s not the time.’

  ‘You were at the pub when it happened?’ Penny asked. Details were arriving piecemeal and she was trying to thread it all together.

  ‘I found him surrounded by petit fours on the floor of the pastry section after service,’ Eric said. ‘I thought he’d slipped, but then he wasn’t getting up.’ He turned to David. ‘You and me, we’re going to have a talk. If you’d have died …’

  Uncle David looked at Penny in a way that would have been pointed if he wasn’t so sallow and grey. Penny gave him half a smile, happy to be his teammate against Eric’s stern words. She’d made every promise she could think of to a god she wasn’t even sure she believed in as they’d waited for him outside the operating room. I’ll visit him more, she’d promised whoever was able to listen to the thoughts in her head. I’ll be a better niece. I’ll buy him nicer presents for his birthday and call every day instead of once a week and if he gets through this I’ll stop giving him a hard time about taking over the pub. I’ll understand that he only wants the best for me. I’ll be kinder to him, I will tell him I love him more …

  ‘Can I tell her?’ Eric said to his husband.

  ‘Tell me what?’ Penny looked between them.

  Uncle David nodded once, curtly. Eric turned to Penny and said, ‘This is his second one.’

  ‘Second what?’

  ‘Second heart attack. He had one at New Year’s. We didn’t tell you, because …’ Eric trailed off, as if he wasn’t sure why.

  Uncle David supplied, ‘It was barely even a heart attack. It was … we just didn’t want you to worry.’

  Penny’s jaw dropped. Why wouldn’t they tell her Uncle David had been ill? Had had a heart attack?

  ‘Does Clemmie know?’ she said, trying to keep her voice level.

  ‘No, darling.’

  ‘And you’ve been working since then? Who has been running the pub?’