A sharp prod knocked my arm off the bar and took my drink with it. I looked around and saw that one of Lee’s mates had made room for himself at the bar, not troubling to see that the space he now occupied had been taken up by another person just a few seconds before. Men often do that, spreading out their legs on the Tube as though they have an innate need to fill any space that isn’t filled, walking down the middle of a narrow pavement and being almost surprised when they career into you, nudging too close in a coffee shop queue as though you’ll give way. They don’t even notice what they’re doing. They are important, their needs are important. You are not as important. You are not important at all. Unless you’re attractive to them. Then your space will be occupied in other ways. Men will stand in front of you and block your path to get your attention. They will slow their car down so that you feel uncomfortable as you walk down the street. They will hover over you in bars, touching your arm, grabbing your hand. If you’re lucky, it’ll just be your hand.
I did not move another inch. Instead I fixed my eyes on the sweaty man’s profile as he tried to get the barman’s eye. If someone stares at you long enough, you eventually have to return the gaze. It took the guy a minute, but he finally looked at me.
‘You just knocked my drink out of my hand,’ I said, not moving my face, not moving any part of my body. Not blinking.
‘I’m trying to get a drink, love, give me a break,’ he said, and turned away again. I felt fury build up, my face getting hot.
‘You spilled my drink. What are you going to do about that?’ The man turned towards me again, clenching his fist on the bar.
‘You’re not getting free drinks off me. I’m not an idiot.’ He gestured to his mate, a dismissive shrug. Just as I was about to explode with rage, Lee appeared between us. He blocked my view of his burly mate and put his hands together as if in prayer.
‘I’m so sorry about my friend, darling, he’s no gentleman but I can see that he’s cost you a nice glass of wine and I’d very much like to buy you another one to make up for it.’ He grinned at me, clasping his hands around my own and bringing them up to rest on the bar, signalling to the waiter to bring me a new drink.
And that is how I got chatting to my uncle. He was charming, in the way that my mother used to say that Simon was. All gab and smiles. The confidence to take control and take liberties without any real offence. I allowed him to order me wine. I didn’t tell him I was having a Martini. I didn’t object when he picked one I didn’t much like, and I didn’t flinch when he touched my hands without asking. There was nothing likeable or interesting in his behaviour, it was more that he’d grown up confident that he was an all-powerful man and acted as though everyone else knew it too. Men like that get away with an unbelievable amount. Even if you hate that kind of attitude, it’s hard to push back against it sometimes. And then later, you hate yourself for enabling it.
Lee made his friend, who he called ‘Scotty dog’， apologise to me, before releasing him back into the bar where he promptly headed towards a door to the left of the bar.
‘Doesn’t waste time does Scott,’ winked Lee. ‘So what brings a girl like you to a place like this then?’
I told him my friend had recommended these gatherings as a good place to start if you were thinking about getting involved in the scene. Lee nodded. ‘It’s a vanilla crowd, nothing too raunchy happens here, bit of shagging, some nice girl-on-girl stuff. Less hardcore than I like but it’ll do for a rainy Thursday.’
‘What do you like then?’ I asked, feeling increasingly aware that this sounded very much like flirting and having to quash the slight nausea that I could sense rising up. Hard not to sound like you’re flirting at a sex party though, even a discussion about council tax would end up coming across as suggestive when you’re fifteen feet away from people having sex with strangers.
He tilted his head and smiled at me. I could see he was only now looking at my face properly, taking the time to actually pay attention. He was sizing me up, either as a proposition or as an oddity. I sipped my drink and tried not to look coquettish. If he wanted to tell me about his sexual proclivities that was one thing, but I wouldn’t try and seduce them out of him.
‘That’s bold, considering we’ve still got our clothes on, missy.’ Lee smirked and checked his watch, a big silver Rolex dotted with diamonds which flung a glittery reflection onto the bar top. ‘It’s not stuff good girls like you want to know about, trust me. Try this place out for starters, then we’ll talk.’