The Lesser Bohemians by Eimear McBride Read Free Book Online Page B

You were a virgin, he whispers back I’m not responsible for the laws of nature. I know that but     I thought at least I wouldn’t have to see you again. Ah, well you shouldn’t have shagged an actor then – but by now he is laughing and I almost am, over my chasing brain. So throw my breath to the Thames and the strange of the day as we strangers stand looking out on the city. Quiet then but for its sound – that noise it must make for its life to go round. Slow aftershave smell of some passing man. Loud of the train as it clanks behind. Me watching the river. Him watching me. What? I ask. You know well what, he says and stoops and kisses me. Fresh inclination and the blood goes up    Bends me like a body    puts inside    into my mouth    and we    deep and open    where is no mistake, where are only runs of thoughts of next     of kissing him in that short past, naked and    He stops    I stumble forward in perfect dazed unfurl his breath on my hot cheek    then kissing me further. And I might fall over but he has my arm and we kiss like he drags me live from under the Thames and where was allthiswant when I needed it? I don’t care I don’t and I could do    Enough! he says This is getting ridiculous now, do you fancy getting something to eat? There now legs but disgraceful knees. All his impulses working inside out too, it seems, for even as I nod, see him almost go again for me. And I am all for that. But he turns instead, wiping his mouth on his hand, leaving me tapping the prickle of mine, to trail him over the bridge.
    We walk up the Embankment by Charing Cross Oh God please take my hand. But deaf to petition he on the Strand asks Do you like Chinese? I do but. But what? I’ve no money. You’re a student, he laughs Don’t worry, dinner’s on me. By St Martin-in-the-Fields I’m lagging his gait Could you slow down? I can’t walk as quick. Sorry, he says Sometimes I forget, how’s this? Better, and is. Soon walking gives – bus-lunged – to staring at the road-load of bookshops and that. God there’s so many, I could live on this street! Up twitch of his mouth. Are you laughing at me? No! I wouldn’t dare! I’m just enjoying the wonder, he says. When I Oh Les Mis! though, he tilts his head Musicals? Really? It’s not that, I say It’s the being here. Thank fuck for that, he says Chinatown’s this way.
    And the smell comes out to get me as I follow into Gerrard Street. Look at the ducks in the window! Look! Do you like duck then? I’ve never eaten it. Okay, well go on in there to Harbour City and let’s try to rectify that.
    He picks a table by the window so I can see out. Beer or wine? What goes with Chinese food? I wasn’t allowed to drink at home. Jesus, are you really only eighteen? I am, I say How old are you? Mmmm, he swallows Older than that      I’m actually thirty-eight. Twice as old as me. And then some, he says Fuck     so a beer I think and quick. Feeling like a dirty old man now? A bit     actually     quite a lot     yeah     thanks.
    Still. He eats prawn crackers and smokes in chains twisting quotes from my first term play. ‘Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib’d in one self place, for where we are is hell and where hell is there must we ever be.’ Cheery! I chew Have you done it? Not yet but I live in hope, I’ve a few more years before I’m too old. What did you do last? ’Tis Pity. Where was that on? Here, in the West End. Did it go well? Think so, he says But can I ask you about something else? If your father died whenyou were eight    how well do you remember him? Pretty well, better than people expect, are your parents alive? My father is, much married and living in Bradford. Is that where