He seems like a nice lad. Yeah, he is. Well I’ll let you get off, and he stoops to kiss my cheek but the chaste peck turns to kiss, half-kiss, between us. I’d go all but he says up close I’m so sorry for what I did and I want you to know I’ve regretted it every day since. I know, I say the pain of this What upset you though? Won’t you tell me that? He steps back, but then just says I spoke to my daughter on the phone and it had been so long I didn’t recognise her voice I had to ask her who she was which wasn’t great I suppose. And the bareness of him, down to the bone. What I’d give to ask him more but Anyway that set me off and it’s not an excuse but you’re owed the truth so, poor as it is, that’s it. Quiet world again. Thank you, I say. He just nods so I If you want if you’d like I could stay for a pint? Don’t be silly, besides your bloke’ll be freezing his arse off outside. I’m not with him, you know. He says Oh right. So and because there’s nothing else for it, I say Goodbye, and leave.
You sneaky fucking cow! You made me look a right twat! I cool my face on the tile What does it matter? It matters because he’s fucking great and now he thinks I’m shagging his bird. I’m not his bird and he doesn’t care. Are you crying? No. Stop crying. I’m not. Fuck’s sake, you’ll be alright, look, take one of these.
*
In. Under the hot and dark. Waterfall pictures. Plastic flowers. Doner turning. Seven Skol. Chippy fingers. Back room. Smoke. Some girl going It’s like a vision in my head. Some lad’s hand sitting welcome on my leg. Me to Flatmate passing the joint. The laugh of it all on this good night. Mix compound found and herb-induced free. Hours of drinking over the E. But gathered together. Brain working loose. Belonging to London. Safe from the world. Three o’clock. Four, before they start picking off. Got to get the last night bus. Him. Then her. Then Flatmate with the some girl staggers out to the breeze. Coming? Not yet. My accomplices lads, saying You’re very welcome to our floor. Sure? Sure. So, caning, stay until we’re turfed to the dawn.
We three here. Thy will be done. Satan under every skin. Skinful under all our skin. Skitter bedraggled laughing in the streets. Linking arms. Split cigarettes. Steps and stairs and to the room. Copies of Loaded. Dirty tissues. Cramped. Drink more? Shall, I think — bottle of vodka that stinks of fridge. First, more drugs? Jesus, please. Snuffed off a Dog Man Star. Kick away boots. Tights the bane of mankind. Better off with young men, amn’t I? Chin, my dears. Chin chin to you. Hum in the lungs and the spine and the gullet. Everything cancelling everything out. Dance lazy loose like playing trust. Safe they rock me about, between. Kind hands helping air to my skin. Draughty strip. More! More! they complain and I lay, am laid down. Still, I have laid on beds before. Who objects? Answer — No one. No one in here ever does to a speed quick kiss from two drink thick mouths. Sure ye’re nice lads. Decent lads. Nestled in my neck. What are ye at? Well, what would you like? To be dead no that’s not right. Twine me round. More kisses perhaps? A mouth finds mine. A mouth finds my back. Smell of hair on a pillow. Bra unclasped. Devil at my navel. Devil at my breast. Right hand in tight jeans, doing its work. Whoever they are though, they’re good to me. Good at pointing out my sovereignty. And why shouldn’t I reject my scum-rid history and wherever I’m wanted, go? So I touch. Am touched by both. If it’s more than I bargained for it’s only life. Fine to the moment of Suck us off? Then No, I won’t do that. We thought you were up for it? I thought I was. Quick one? No. Please? Listen lads, maybe it’s time I head for the wilds. Don’t. Stay. We’ll have a good time. Plenty condoms. Plenty drink. But I can leave if I want. We know that. We just hope you won’t. So now as I chose him can I choose them? If I let it this will happen. If it happens, who would care? Not all girls have fathers who get upset. Not all men hurt girls for their daughter’s sake. And how much do I already know I can take. To spite myself, for him. To hurt myself. I open my thighs saying Lads, do anything. Nothing matters. And it is nothing. Empty vessels making most sound. Stretch her. She deserves it. The well-trained mouth. Just go where she treads herself underfoot. Beneath unwashed bodies. She chooses this. This time she chooses what she is. Beyond the fright, even disgust, she passes her body on to their want and only when they have fucked enough goes down to the sleep where no dream penetrates.
*
I wake up. Again there’s life. I wake up. It is daylight. Their trousers off. In my skin. Find my clothes. They stay asleep. Got to go. Monsters approach and the morning knows what you did.
I push outside to the night that’s day. To the street where I was before I became what I’ve become — a form of thing. What does it mean? Look into the sun and want and want to be safe. Down Chalk Farm Road. The Marathon. If I could step back there, I’d choose to go home. But it’s in me, forever. The Roundhouse here. Safeway’s. Offstage. The Monarch. Moon under Water. The Fusilier. Under railway. Over canal. The Elephant’s Head. Market stalls. Round the tube to the Camden Road. Canal again. Cross beneath the overground. Again over Royal College Street. Further up. Turn right. The hedge. The house. His door and ring his bell. Ring it and listen and ring.
Steps. Unlatch locked opened. There. Him, light-wincing, half-asleep Hey it’s barely seven what are you doing here? I only stand. Then his eyes catch up Jesus, what happened? But she is silent, spring-snapped. What’s the matter? What happened? I did something bad. What did you do? I went back to this fella’s with him and his friend. Why are you telling me this? Can I come in? No, go home. Please. No. Please I’m frightened. His fingers in his sleep-flat hair Alright, go on upstairs.
Lair early, old cigarettes and sleep. The stuffiness, comfort. Even the mess. Oblivious to its magic he leans on the desk Right, what is it you want? Can I say what I want is to lie on his bed, in his crease on his sheets until my body forgets what it’s done and where it’s been? By the cool of his eye I don’t think I can. Instead I stare at floor. He takes a deep breath From the beginning then, did they make you? No. Did they hurt you? Shake again. Use protection? I look up — he looks away — Yes. Well that’s something at least so why are you frightened? Because of what I did. And what exactly was that, do you remember? Everything I did everything with the both of them. For fuck’s sake! he says. It was only a good time but then I woke up and how can he not see what it took to make myself do that? So what is it you want me to do? Let me stay here. No, go home, sleep it off. But fright goes everywhere like losing blood. Don’t look at me like that, he says What am I supposed to say? If you’re upset by what you did don’t do it again you know these things happen you’ll be fine. I nod. Do you hear me? Yes. Then why don’t you go? But Sorry’s all that comes. Don’t apologise to me, he shouts I don’t give a fuck what you did. Why are you shouting at me then? He just shakes his head and seeing now he won’t be kind, I shut my eyes. Shame fuses to silence letting the night maraud, killing bit by useless hope of not being this girl I was. Am. She is. Don’t fucking cry, he says Do you think I don’t understand? I know all about having a good time. Having it and having it until a good time’s all there is, until it’s not a good time, until it’s everything turned to shit and you can’t believe the things you’ve done, look at me, is that what you want? I look and I think I’m going to puke. Ah fuck it! he grabs me, drags me by the arm out. Half carrying by the toilet. Holding hair back and me forward Just try to aim. Drugs, drink, chewed chips spittle bile. Again. Again until That everything? Yes. Go wash your mouth in the shower then. Brain whacks with spun though and balance off. Hand out to the nowhere. Knuckles the lock but. He catches me. Hikes me under his arm over each nail in the floor. Past blue telly flicker. Click. Green mirror mould and. Puke stain all down my top. There’s the. What’s she? Just get in it, he says so I try to but seize up.