Simon. Alice gave a feline little smile then and got onto the bed. I told you he was, she said. Felix put his hand behind his head, looking up at her. He reminds me of you, he
replied. Keeps his cards close. She picked up her pillow and batted him with it. Sadly, I suspect he might be heterosexual, she said. Tucking the pillow behind his head, Felix answered mildly: Yeah? We’ll see. She laughed, climbing on top of him. You’re not going to leave me for him, are you? she asked. Smoothing his hands down from her hips, down her thighs, he said: Leave you? No, not at all. You don’t think the three of us could have a bit of fun together, no? She was shaking her head. And where would Eileen be in this scenario? she asked. Downstairs knitting? Felix pouted his bottom lip thoughtfully, and then remarked: I wouldn’t rule her out. Alice ran a finger over one of his dark eyebrows. This is what I get for having such good-looking friends, she said. He was smiling. You’re not so bad yourself, you know, he said. Come here.
Eileen meanwhile was sitting on her bed scrolling on her phone through a series of wedding photographs her mother had sent her. On the floor, a discarded cardigan, her swimsuit with its straps tangled, sandals with the buckles hanging open. On the bedside table a lamp with a pleated pink shade. When a knock sounded softly on her door she looked up and said aloud: Hello? Simon opened the door a crack. His face in the shadow, his hand on the handle. I’ll just leave your toothpaste in the bathroom, he said.
Sleep well. With her arm she gestured for him to come inside. I’m looking at wedding photos, she said. He closed the door behind him and sat down on the side of the bed.
The photograph on her screen showed Lola and Matthew standing together outside the church, Lola holding a bouquet of pink and white flowers. That’s nice, said Simon. She scrolled on to the next image then, the bridal party standing together, Eileen in her pale-green dress, half-smiling. Ah, you look beautiful, Simon said. She moved over on the bed and patted the mattress to invite him. He sat beside her, their backs against the headboard, and she scrolled on. Photographs from the drinks reception. Lola laughing
with her mouth open, a flute of champagne in her hand. Yawning now, Eileen nestled her head against Simon’s shoulder, and he settled his arm around her, warm and heavy.
After a minute or two she put the phone down on her lap and let her eyes drift closed.
Today was fun, she said. His fingers moved idly over the back of her neck, up into her hair, and she gave a soft pleasurable sigh. Mm, he said. She rested her hand on his chest, her eyes half-open. So what happened with Caroline? she asked. Looking down at her hand, he answered: I told her there was someone else. Eileen paused, as if waiting for him to continue. Then she said: Anyone I know? His fingers behind her ear, through her hair. Oh, just the same girl I’ve been in love with all along, he said. Now and then she likes to toy with my feelings to make sure I’m still interested. She sucked on her lower lip and released it. Heartless woman, she said. He was smiling to himself. Well, it’s my fault for spoiling her, he said. I’m a terrible fool about her, really. She moved her hand down over his shirt buttons, down to the buckle of his belt. Simon, she said.
You know the night I came over to your apartment, when you were sleeping. He said yes. When we got into bed that night, she went on, you just turned over on your side, away from me. Do you remember that? With a self-conscious smile he said he remembered. She was tracing the buckle of his belt with her fingers. You didn’t want to touch me? she asked. He let out a kind of laugh, looking down at her small white hand.
Yes, of course I did, he replied. But when you came upstairs I thought you seemed upset about something. She was thoughtful for a moment. I was, kind of, she said. I suppose I thought it would make me feel better if we slept together. I’m sorry if you think that’s bad. But when you turned away from me, I felt like, maybe you didn’t really want me after all. He was smoothing his hand down over the back of her neck. Oh, he said. That didn’t occur to me. I mean, I had no idea you wanted to sleep with me to cheer yourself
up. I was doing it purely because I wanted to, and you let me. I wasn’t even really sure why you were letting me, to be honest. I suppose I thought, maybe it was good for your self-esteem to get in bed with someone who wanted you so badly. I’ve had that feeling before, like it’s flattering to be the object of desire, and maybe it’s so flattering that it’s even kind of sexy in a way. But it never went through my mind that you would think I didn’t want you. I suppose the way I think about these things— I mean, even when we do make love, I sometimes feel like it’s something that I’m doing to you, for my own reasons. And maybe you get some kind of innocent physical pleasure out of it, I hope you do, but for me it’s different. I know you’re going to say that’s sexist. She was laughing, her mouth was open. It is sexist, she said. Not that I mind. It’s flattering, like you were saying. You have this primal desire to subjugate and possess me. It’s very masculine, I think it’s sexy. Lifting his hand, he touched his thumb to her lower lip. I do feel that, he said. But at the same time, you have to want it. She looked up at him, her eyes were wide and dark. I do, she said. He turned over then and kissed her mouth. For a time they lay like that with their arms around one another, his hand caressing the small hard bone of her hip, her breath hot and damp on his neck. When he put his hand under her dress, she shut her eyes and let out a low breath. Ah, you’re being very good, he murmured. She gave a kind of animal cry, she was shaking her head. Oh God, she said.