Erotic Refugees by Paddy Kelly Read Free Book Online Page B

sufficed.
    They crossed the corridor. The
door to Annika's flat was open and before they even pressed the
bell she dashed out to greet them. She was very enthusiastic as she
shook Eoin's hand. He couldn't help noticing her breasts had been
arranged optimally in a tight yellow dress, and he tried very hard
to not stare at them.
    “ So glad you could make
it Rob! And you Eoin, nice to meet some friend of Rob's at last.
Except for them I bump into on Sunday morning when she's on her way
home!”
    Eoin kept on grinning, hoping
he didn't look insane. When she turned her back to take care of the
gifts they'd brought, Rob nodded towards the kitchen where a big
punch bowl stood on the counter. Eoin nodded with enthusiasm and
they hurried towards it like dying men in a desert.
    “ Cheers then,” Rob said,
plastic cup in hand. “It might be a long day, so we should start as
we mean to go on. When duty calls, I'm not the man to turn on my
heel, never let it be said!”
    “ I suppose,” Eoin said.
“And what do you mean, duty?”
    Rob paused in his drinking and
smiled sheepishly. “Oh. Well, nothing really. It's just, you know,
Annika did me a favour, so I kind of agreed to come to her
party.”
    “ Oh, right” said Eoin. “I
see.”
    Great, he thought. Not only was
he the pity guest, but he was the pity guest of somebody who had
actually been obliged to come. Could it be any worse?
    He drained his punch and
plucked out and ate the little chunks of pineapple. Maybe Rob had
the right idea—just get flaming drunk and get it all over with as
quickly as possible.
     
    “ It really looks like a
big dick,” Rob said. “With balls and all. Ye see it,
right?”
    They were sitting on a picnic
blanket, nibbling at Annika's cakes and biscuits as they drank
coffee from plastic cups. The ground was covered in speckled
shadows from a row of trees behind them, and it fell away in a
gentle slope to the energetic midsummer festivities below. The
party was definitely in full swing.
    “ It does,” Eoin said. It
was hard to miss it really. The midsummer pole stood six metres
high, a construction like a cross wreathed in flowers and greenery.
Two big circles made from entwined branches and flowers hung from
each end of the crossbar. These were apparently the testicles and,
if the pole were squinted at with the correct amount of drink
taken, it did indeed look very phallic.
    Rob forged on. “But isn't it
stupid having the thing looking like a big dick? I mean, it can't
just be me what sees it. The whole country dancing round a dick.
Maybe I should tell them.”
    Eoin turned to Rob, not sure if
he was being ironic or not. “It's supposed to look like a big dick,
that's the whole point. It's a fertility festival. The dick is the
symbol of plenty and growth, that's why we're all out here.”
    Rob looked at him in amazement.
“Really? It's supposed to be a dick? I thought it was just an
accident. Ah well then it's not even funny any more. Gimme some
coffee.”
    Eoin handed over the thermos.
Down the slope people were dancing around the pole, and he idly
wondered if Damien and his mother were dancing somewhere right now.
Or maybe they were right here in front of him, separated from him
by a wide stretch of grass as well as an unbridgeable gulf of guilt
and blame.
    “ So,” he said, eager to
switch his head from the Damien-and-Jenny channel. “Tell me about
your Internet idea.”
    Rob's eyes lit up at that.
Talking about his ideas was clearly something he enjoyed. He
finished one of Annika's home-made muffins, brushed the crumbs away
and shuffled closer on the grass.
    “ Okay, ye've asked for
it. Guinness, right? Where is the best Guinness in Stockholm?” He
stabbed at the ground. “Here? Or maybe here? Is there any
independent authority? Who do ye trust? Come on now Eoin, have a
stab at it!”
    Eoin shook his head. “I
suppose, Guinness drinkers?”
    “ Exactly! So let them
decide! I just make a website where people can go in and vote