side.
Pulling Maxine up, I get to witness their dancing in the middle of the room. Mostly it seems to be about shaking the hips and making sure they donât overbalance.
Every so often they come together and shout into each othersâ ears.
Sometimes they kiss each other like theyâre long lost buddies reunited.
Between songs I look at them and smile to remind them that Iâm there.
It just carries on like that.
Theyâre hammered.
When they both reach down to me and take my hand, I feel I have no choice.
Up I get and Iâm dancing, cutting my funky strut.
We hold hands for a while.
Next Iâm dancing with Emma and after that with Maxine and then weâre in a circle again.
Each time I dance with Emma is longer than the time before.
The music ends and we need a new CD.
Itâs a relief to have peace and quiet.
âIsnât he lovely,â Maxine says. âSuch a lovely bloke.â Her face looks like itâs made out of melting candle wax the way itâs following gravity. The corners of her mouth point down and her eyes look like theyâve been switched off from the inside.
âYummy,â Emma says. They both start rubbing my back. The pain is practically physical.
âGiz a kiss.â Maxine says.
Not even at the beginning of the evening when she looked entirely human would I have given her the kiss sheâs asking for. Sheâs Wolfâs wife for pityâs sake.
âGo on,â she says, falling off balance, âGiz a snog.â
Both of them giggle. Theyâre either taking the piss or are having the time of their lives.
Moving in quick, I peck her on the cheek, slide to the right and get her in a grip thatâs half cuddle, half wrestling hold. It keeps our faces as far apart as I can manage.
âMe too,â Emma says and while her friend is blind-sided, gives me a long smooch.
âI need to pee,â Maxine says and I let her go. She waddles like a duck to the door and soon as sheâs gone Emma closes it tight.
Back against the door, she beckons me over with a come-on finger. I step closer. Just as I get there an enormous grin forms at her mouth. Thereâs a quick burst of noise as her press-studs are pulled open and, when her shirt is flung apart, she reveals those tiny, naked breasts.
Sheâs just performed a fantasy Iâve never articulated to anyone in my life.
In that moment Iâve changed from someone who canât wait to get away to someone who really needs to stick around.
My hands find their home straight away. My lips too. It feels like itâs always been this way.
Two hours I had to endure before Maxine finally gave up the ghost.
It was like we were playing a game of chicken.
Thereâs only one thing on my mind. Soon as weâre alone weâre peeling off the essentials and sheâs mounted me in the dark.
When Iâm inside itâs as if a bubble has burst. A magic spell reversed.
Pump away as she might, itâs doing nothing for me.
Weâre clumsy. Cold. Trying too hard.
Just as we find a rhythm of our own, the front door bangs shut.
Heavy footsteps head in our direction.
Itâs Wolf in from his shift.
Emmaâs off into the kitchen to dress.
I zip up quick. Lie back and try to look casual.
âJC,â he says with his usual gusto. We lock thumbs and fingers. âSkin up man.â
âBusy night?â
He pulls the ring on a Special Brew and sups down a good half of the can. âBleeding awful,â he says and throws his leather jacket beside me.
Emma walks in from the kitchen. Sheâs dressed, at least, but not as carefully as I might have expected.
âAm I interrupting anything?â Wolf asks with a laugh.
âNothing special,â I say.
Emma goes over and sits on his knee. âWhat are you suggesting Mr Wolf?â
âSkin up,â he says and I get to work, knowing already that Iâll still be awake to greet the
Learning to Kill: Stories