‘Do you want to go to bed?’ she asked.
I nodded. When I stood up, the room swam. Drunk on wine and Charlie. I held her hand and helped her up, realising I needed a pee. Typical – my bladder was determined to ruin the atmosphere.
‘I need to go to the bathroom,’ I said. ‘The bed’s that way.’
My bedroom had a dimmer switch and when I got back from the bathroom I found that Charlie had turned the light low. Her clothes were on the floor and she was in the bed, the quilt tucked under her chin. I stripped, wondering for a moment if I should take everything off or leave my underwear on, deciding to go for it. I kicked my shorts across the room.
‘Fuck, your hands are cold,’ she protested.
‘They’ll be warm in a minute.’
We stopped talking.
I won’t pretend that our first time was amazing. I was too anxious about my performance, not yet familiar with her body, what she liked, what she wanted me to do. Our limbs knocked together, we both whispered apologies a couple of times. I had to concentrate hard to stop myself from finishing too soon, determined to make her come before me.
Not only that, but I was too aware that I was making love to Charlie, this woman who, in the few days I’d known her, had filled my head, knocked me out of orbit. It was impossible to sink into the moment, to become fully absorbed, because I was watching myself, recording the moment like someone taking a video on their phone at a gig, instead of enjoying the there and then.
Afterwards, Charlie lay with her head on my chest, her hair tickling my face.
‘Do you think I’m easy?’ she said, hoisting herself up and looking into my eyes. Her face and collarbone were flushed from her orgasm. She really was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
‘If you are, I must be too.’
‘That’s true. But there are different rules for guys, aren’t there?’
‘Stupid rules.’
She kissed me. ‘Can you see me without your glasses?’
‘Not much. I have to get really close.’
‘They suit you,’ she said. ‘You’ve got that hot professor thing going on. You look cute without them too. Like a little mole.’
‘Oh, thanks!’
‘I like moles.’
‘I like freckles,’ I said, touching hers.
‘Oh God, you really are corny.’
‘I know. I just made myself sick.’
She rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her elbow, her free hand tracing patterns on my torso. ‘How come you haven’t been snapped up already?’
‘I was going to ask you the same thing.’
She grinned. ‘Plenty have tried to snap me up, Andrew.’
I must have looked worried, because she said, ‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to give you a speech about how I’m not looking for anything. On the other hand, I’m not going to ask you to marry me either.’
‘Phew.’
‘I do like you though.’
‘Yeah, I can tell.’
She mock-slapped me. ‘Watch it. So, anyway, you didn’t answer my question. About why you don’t have a girlfriend.’
‘Oh. Well, I did have one until about nine months ago. We were together for a couple of years.’
The hand that had been drawing spirals on my flesh stopped moving. ‘What was her name?’
‘Harriet.’
‘Harriet! Posh.’
I stroked Charlie’s shoulder. ‘She was a little bit posh, yes.’
‘Did she have a pony?’
‘As a matter of fact . . . When she was a kid, anyway. I think she had a couple.’
Charlie was silent for a second. ‘So what happened with posh pony-loving Harriet?’
I shrugged. ‘Oh, there was no big drama. We were together a couple of years, we talked about moving in together, but then it kind of went flat. Fizzled out. We’re still friends though.’
Charlie’s hand had started wandering up and down my torso again. ‘Is that her picture out there in the living room?’
‘Huh? Oh – no, that’s Sasha. My best friend.’
There was a photo of Sasha and me on holiday in Ibiza on the wall by the door. We were standing on top of a large rock, laughing. It had been a fun holiday, quite debauched, in fact.
‘She looks like a laugh.’
‘Yeah, she’s lovely. I’ll introduce you to her.’
‘Can’t wait.’
She kissed me again, wriggling closer, and the kiss grew more passionate and Charlie came closer still until she was on top of me. We made love again, and this time I was fully absorbed, not worried about anything at all, great warm rushes of happiness enveloping me as Charlie made me feel better than I’d ever felt before.
Five
At some point during the next couple of days, I told Charlie about Tilly and my conversation with Rachel.
‘So I need to find something to try to cheer her up,’ I said. We were lying in bed. We had been in my bed for almost forty-eight hours, only leaving it to go to the bathroom or to eat or grab drinks.
‘You think that’s a better plan than simply talking to her?’
‘Well . . . I think what I’d like to do is take her out somewhere and then talk to her, rather than turn up and say I want to have a word with her.’
‘You’re lovely,’ she said.
I liked hearing her say things like that.
‘What kind of thing does she like doing?’ Charlie asked.
‘That’s the tricky part. She’s really into sport – she supports Arsenal, for her sins – and she loves swimming. Other than that, normal stuff.’ I shrugged. ‘Stuff that girls like.’
‘Stroking kittens, knitting, cooing over babies. That kind of thing?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Having their nipples slowly licked while their boyfriend slides ever so slowly into them . . .’
‘Actually, Tilly is the only woman I know who’s even ruder than you.’
Charlie smiled. ‘I’d love to meet her.’
‘You will.’
‘And I’ll try to think of some ideas. You’re clearly a bit useless at that kind of stuff.’
‘True. Thank you.’