‘Isn’t that what you were planning to wear for your job interview?’
‘No, I was going to wear my black trousers to the interview. I just don’t want to give the impression that I’m a slut.’
She laughs. ‘You? A slut? Pleeeease. You’ve got ‘Don’t Touch’ written across your forehead.’
‘I do not.’
‘All right, I’m wrong. You’ve got Don’t Fucking Touch Or I’ll Call The Police blazing from your forehead.’
‘Don’t exaggerate, Maddie.’ I sigh. ‘Actually, I’m a bit confused.’
‘About what?’ she demands.
‘I think I’m torn between excitement and panic,’ I reveal.
‘I get the excitement bit, but why the panic?’
‘Because I know it’s a bad idea.’
‘Why?’
‘Well to start with, Jake has threatened me off in no uncertain terms. Absolutely don’t go there stuff. Forbidden in capital letters. Huge family feud stuff. Jake actually called him a drug dealer and criminal. And he didn’t say it just for effect. He really believes BJ is a massive gangster.’
‘Ooook. You said to start with. What are the other reasons?’
‘I sometimes get the uneasy feeling that I am standing at the edge of a cliff and about to jump in when I’m with BJ. There’s this feeling of doing something deliciously destructive, but there is also the prospect of oblivion forever.’
‘Man, only you can make a simple fuck sound so dramatic.’
FIFTEEN
Layla
If a girl will walk stark-naked by the light of the full moon round a field or a house, and cast behind her at every step a handful of salt, she will get the lover whom she desires.
Old Gypsy Magic
The moment Ria called to ask if I wanted to go to dinner with her at Pigeon’s Pie I knew. I was always going to say yes. So I did. Ria and I agreed to meet at a wine bar in Waterloo first for one drink and then take a taxi to Pigeon’s Pie.
I arrive first. Nervously I order a glass of white wine and find us a table. Ria is dressed in a skin-tight leopard print crop top and leather trousers. She looks sexy and carefree. Suddenly I wish I had taken Maddy’s advice, and not dressed so stuffily. We drink a glass of wine and chat about the people we know, then Ria looks at her wristwatch.
‘We should go. We don’t want to be late for dinner,’ she says with a smile.
‘No, we don’t want to be late,’ I agree nervously.
The taxi drops us across the road from Pigeon’s Pie. From outside it looks like an old fashioned pub; a place with fruit machines, patterned carpets, dark wood furniture, and horrible pub food.
‘You okay?’ Ria asks.
‘Totally,’ I reply and follow her through the double doors. Inside it is exactly as I had envisioned. Only it is surprisingly full of elegantly dressed, well-heeled people.
‘Come on,’ Ria says and leads me to a back room. She opens the door to a wood paneled room, and—oh my God!—It’s like I have been transported into an old gangster movie. This is the proverbial backroom where shady deals get struck. It even has another door, presumably a quick, back way escape door. BJ is sitting at a wooden table and there is a half-drunk pint of Guinness in front of him.
BJ
Forswear it sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till tonight.
-William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
Oh Layla. Look at you. Dressed as if you’re going to a job interview at a bank. A pink and white striped shirt, a tailored, almost masculine black jacket, and the unsexiest article of clothing I’ve ever had the misfortune to come across: a below the knee, wrap around skirt in gunmetal grey.
Still, it’s shocking how relieved I am to see her. Some part of my brain can’t believe she came. Of her own free will. I rise to my feet.
‘Hey BJ,’ Ria calls out with a big, friendly smile.
‘Hey Wild Cat,’ I reply easily.
She pouts prettily and lifts her face up to kiss me on the cheek. While her lips are stuck to my face, I shift my gaze to Layla. Her teeth are sunk into her bottom lip. Fuck! What a great mouth. And there’s another inch in my pants. Ria dislodges herself with a wet sound.
‘Layla.’ My eyes take a lazy trip down her body. Jesus! I am crazy-lusting after her.
Color creeps up her cheeks, but her voice is cool. ‘BJ.’
‘Have a seat,’ I invite. ‘What do you girls want to drink?’
A waitress has already entered the room and is hovering nervously in the background.
‘Champagne,’ Ria says, perching delicately at the end of the chair opposite me.
I raise an eyebrow at Layla. ‘The same?’