Sue said, “Let’s see what they’re watching on television.”
Grey winced because her voice was so loud, but neither of the women appeared to notice. Still clutching Sue’s hand, he followed her out of the room and into the short corridor leading to the front of the house. Here a couple of old bicycles leaned against the staircase banisters, and three large cardboard boxes containing bottles were stacked one on top of another. Sue opened the second door and they went inside.
A soccer match was playing on television, the volume turned up loud. The room was full of men, young and middleaged, sitting forward with their arms resting on their knees, holding beer cans or smoking cigarettes. The air was thick with smoke, and the men were responding to the commentary and the match; England was playing Yugoslavia, and losing. Derision and ridicule poured out whenever the England side lost control of the ball.
Sue said, “Let’s have a look at them.”
She turned on the overhead light and led Grey across the room. There were three adults and four teenagers.
“Knock that bleeding light off, John,” one of the older men said, not looking away from the screen. One of the teenagers got up and switched off the light. Returning to his seat he had to push past Grey, who instinctively eased himself to the side to make way. Sue gripped his hand again.
“Shall we sit down?” she said.
Before he could answer she led him toward the sofa, where two men were sitting. Neither of them looked up, but one shuffled forward so that he sat on the floor and the other moved up to make room for them. Sue and Grey sat down, Grey feeling certain that their presence must register at any moment. The match went on, and England missed another chance. Contemptuous noises roared out in the room, and beer cans hissed wetly open.
“How do you feel?” Sue said, raising her voice over the noise.
“They’re going to see us in a moment.”
“No they’re not. You wanted proof, and this is it.” He noticed how her voice had changed; it had a thick, sensuous quality, reminding him of her lovemaking. The palm of her hand was sweating. “Want to see more?” she said.
She got up from the sofa, dragging Grey behind her. To his surprise she went directly to the television set, stood in front of the screen, blocking the men’s view, and switched channels. After a couple of tries she found a studio discussion, apparently about banking economics. She stood back, and she and Grey watched the men’s reaction.
They were behaving as if the match had suddenly ended. The mood changed and relaxed, the men sat back, lit more cigarettes. They were complaining about the match, the strategy, the management of the side, the selection of the team.
Grey said, “They knew you had turned on the light. Won’t they realize you switched channels?”
“Not while we’re standing here by the set. For the moment they’re all assuming that one of the others did it. They’ll go back to it when we leave.”
“But surely they know now?”
“They know we’re here, but they can’t see us. Have any of them looked at us?”
“Not directly, no.”
“They can’t.” Sue was looking flushed, her lips were moist. “Watch this.”
With her free hand Sue quickly unbuttoned the top of her blouse. Pulling Grey behind her she went toward one of the men, and with a deft movement reached inside and scooped out one of her breasts. She leaned toward him, holding the nipple just a few inches from his face. He carried on talking match strategy to his friend, utterly ignoring her.
Grey tugged Sue back by her hand. “Don’t do that!”
“They can’t see me!”
“All right, but I don’t like you doing it.”
She faced him, her blouse open and her breast exposed. “Doesn’t this turn you on?”
“Not like that.” But he could feel himself arousing.
“I always feel randy doing this.” She pressed his hand to her breast, where the nipple was a firm bead of excitement. “Do you want to make love?”
“You’re kidding!”
“No, come on—let’s do it. We can do anything we like.”
“Sue, it’s impossible.” He was too nervous, too aware of the roomful of men.
“Let’s fuck now. On the floor—in front of them.”
There had always been an incongruous coarseness in Sue when she made love, but it had never been as blatant as this before. Her free hand was at the front of his trousers, pulling at his zipper.
“Not here,” he said. “Outside.”
They went quickly into the hall, and then Sue saw the stairs and rushed up them, still holding his hand. They found a room with a bed and threw themselves on it. They loosened their clothes, and coupled almost at once. Sue, when she came, let out a shriek of pleasure, taking his hair in handfuls and snatching it painfully. He had never known her as abandoned as this.
They were lying on the bed, still joined, when the door opened and one of the women they had seen in the kitchen came in. Grey tensed and turned his face away in a desperate attempt to hide. Sue said in a normal voice, “Keep still. She doesn’t know we’re here.”
Grey looked back and watched as the woman opened a wardrobe door. She stood looking at herself in the full-length mirror, then began to undress. When she was naked she stood in front of the mirror again, turning from side to side. Her buttocks were heavy and dimpled, her belly sagged, and her breasts fell flat, pointing outward. The woman leaned forward, looking at her eyes in the reflection, pulling down the lower lids. She farted noisily. When she stood back again she tried to shape her hair with her hands, still turning to and fro, looking critically at herself. Grey could see himself and Sue reflected in the mirror behind her. He felt a deep sense of revulsion, knowing they were violating an intimacy. As his sexual desire faded he began to recoil away from Sue, letting himself slip out of her.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him down against her. “Don’t move, Richard! Stay until she’s gone.”
“But she’s going to get into bed!”
“Not yet. She can’t while we’re here.”
After another few seconds the woman sighed and closed the wardrobe door, shutting away the mirror. She took a dressing gown from the door and put it on. Before leaving the room she lit a cigarette, tossing the matchbox onto the bedside table. Her cloud of smoke swirled by the door when she had gone.
“Let’s get out, Sue. You’ve proved your point.”
He moved away from her and stood by the bed, pulling up his underpants and trousers, tucking his shirt away. He knew that now Sue was no longer touching him he was visible again, but all he wanted was to get out of this house and leave these people alone. Revulsion still filled him.
Sue finished buttoning up her clothes as quickly as he did, and took his hand again.
“Nothing can happen,” she said.
“Yes, but we shouldn’t be here.”
He peered around the open door onto the landing. The woman was standing in the bathroom with the door open, wiping cream on her face. She then closed and locked the door.
“This is what you used to do with Niall, isn’t it?”