Was she flirting with him?
‘You haven’t got an accent.’
‘I ironed it out. Good friend of mine in the force told me early on that the posher you sound, the quicker you rise. Just prejudice really, but everyone thinks you’re more intelligent.’
‘That must be where I went wrong.’
‘You’re not so bad.’
She was flirting with him.
‘I had no idea you were so devious.’
‘Well, you don’t know me very well yet, do you?’
Was that a come-on or a put-down? I really am out of practice, thought Mark. She headed off to the bar and came back with a pint of lager. Mark watched her, excited, aroused, torn – his desire for her jostling with his desire for the alcohol. She offered him the glass.
‘We’ve had a good day today. So have some. You know the rules – as long as I’m here, it’s ok.’
He took the glass from her. And drank. But briefly – wanted to show her that he was in control, that he wasn’t weak. He’d hated himself and his life for so long. Now that he was climbing out of the abyss, he was going to show strength. He handed her back the glass. She smiled at him – warm and encouraging.
‘Why did you join the force, Mark?’
Now it was her turn to ask the questions.
‘Because no one else would have me.’
She laughed at that one.
‘Seriously, I completely messed up school. It was a good one – grammar school and that – but I just couldn’t get into it. Couldn’t pay attention. Just wanted to get out of the classroom.’
‘To chase the girls?’
‘And the rest. After two years of sniffing glue and setting light to phone boxes, my old man kicked me out. I spent three nights on my sister’s floor, then thought “Fuck this.” So I joined up.’
‘My hero.’
‘My dad nearly had a heart attack. Assumed it was a joke. But I surprised everyone. I liked it. Liked the fact that every day was different. That you never knew what was coming at you. And I liked the craic with the boys. We didn’t have female superiors in those days.’
She raised an eyebrow. Then slid off to the bar to buy another round. So this clearly wasn’t just a quick drink after work then. Mark wondered how he should play this, but was none the wiser by the time she’d returned. Her cleavage winked at him as she placed the drinks on the table. Whether this was accidental or not was impossible to tell.
‘How about you? Why’d you join?’
A brief pause, then:
‘To help people.’
Brief and to the point. Was that all? Then:
‘When I walked into Ben’s house. Saw the carnage. And helped save that boy from a similar fate. That was it for me. I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t walk away after that.’
‘You’re good at it. Saving people I mean.’
She looked at him intently. He hesitated, then continued:
‘I would have quit by now, if it wasn’t for you. I didn’t tell you this, but I’d written the letter. Was ready to hand it in. To give up. But you saved me. Saved me from myself.’
Said with passion and from the heart – for a moment Mark felt ashamed of his openness, his nakedness. But it was true – without her who knows where he’d be. She looked at him, suddenly earnest. Had he messed this up? Then she leant across the table and kissed him.
Outside, he smiled as he offered her the cheesiest line he could think of.
‘Your place or mi-’
‘Yours.’
47
Mark’s flat was a tip. He hadn’t planned on seducing his superior that day and the vestiges of last night’s meal were still in evidence. Still, he’d changed the bed linen that morning and it felt clean and crisp as they sank down on to it.
She’d never been one for small talk. And the same was true now. Usually the man sets the pace in these things – or tries to – but that was not the case here. Mark was both surprised and aroused by how firmly his boss took the lead.
The cab ride to the flat had been silent – expectation of what was to come made conversation irrelevant. They didn’t touch or hold hands, but the air was still charged. Once they’d buzzed in, he attempted as he always did (always? When did he last do this?) to break the tension with humour:
‘I’d offer you a drink, but…’
She didn’t bother to reply. She just crossed the flat and kissed him. Then dropping her coat on the floor, she asked him which direction the bedroom was in. Once inside, she shoved him down on to the bed and reached for his belt.
Mark had made love many times, but he realized that this was the first time that he’d been made love to. Angry at being made to submit, he tried to spin her round. Now that he was aroused he suddenly wanted to dominate her – fuck her, bully her – but she pinned him back down, straddling him forcefully.
Was she loving him or just taking her pleasure from him? Mark suddenly realized that this mattered to him. That even now as she was lowering herself on to him, causing a sweet shudder to ripple through both of them, he wanted this to mean something, rather than just be a bit of fun. Men were supposed to be disassociative about sex. Able to turn off their emotions and think with their dick. But Mark had never been like that.
Again he tried to manoeuvre her so that he could be on top, but she pushed him back down aggressively. Clearly she wasn’t ready to go there yet, so Mark decided to submit. The battle over, their lovemaking became more relaxed, more tender. Helen slowed the pace and finally their bodies moved in tandem. To Mark’s surprise, she seemed to be enjoying it. Enjoying him. Brushing her nipples over his lips, Helen slid her hand between her legs, pleasuring herself as she rocked back and forward on top of him.
Mark was fighting desperately now to hold off his orgasm. It’s one thing to screw your boss. Quite another to screw her badly. Or too briefly. So he fought, conjuring all sorts of dull and mundane images to suppress his excitement, but as Helen picked up the pace again (sensing his orgasm) it was only going to end one way.
He wanted to apologize. But wasn’t sure whether it was warranted. She helped him out.
‘That was nice.’
Mark once again felt all his doubt disappear. He held her close and warm and to his surprise she didn’t resist. She nestled into his side to dwell in post-coital happiness.
As they lay there, the sheet barely covering them, Mark ran his eye over her body. In the throes of passion, he’d felt scratches on her back, but hadn’t paid any heed to them. Now, less distracted and more curious, he looked at them in more detail. He was shocked. The rest of her was so soft, so clean, so… perfect.
She must have sensed his thoughts, because she pulled the sheet up over her back. Conversation closed before it had even started. They lay together in silence for a while. Then she turned to him and said:
‘This is between us and no one else. Ok?’
It wasn’t an order, nor was it fearful. No, it was beseeching, almost tentative. Mark was surprised again on this the most surprising of days.
‘Of course. Totally.’
Then she went off to shower, leaving Mark full of questions.
48
Helen marched across the street to her bike. She knew Mark was watching her from the window above, but didn’t acknowledge him. She wasn’t playing games – she just wasn’t ready for cheery waves or blowing kisses yet. Still it felt good to have his eyes upon her and she slowed her pace deliberately to enjoy it for a few seconds more.
She clambered on to her Kawasaki and turned the ignition. Her bike leathers and helmet were another form of armour for Helen, a space where she could exist alone and unmolested. But today, for the first time in ages, she felt she didn’t need it. That she didn’t have to hide from the world. What had happened with Mark had been unplanned and unexpected – which is probably why it had felt so right. When Helen had time to think, things often got overcomplicated and then didn’t happen at all. But today was just right. She wondered what Mark was thinking. Perhaps he thought she was odd – he wouldn’t be the first. Or maybe he found her intriguing. That was the best that she could hope for at this stage and she would definitely settle for that.