Wilt put his plate down and they went into the house. In the kitchen Eva was peeling oranges for a fruit salad and talking about circumcision rites with the Ethiopian, who was slicing bananas for her. In the lounge several couples were dancing back to back very vigorously to an LP of Beethoven’s Fifth played at 78.
‘Christ,’ said Wilt as Sally collected a bottle of Vodka from a cupboard. They went upstairs and down a passage to a small bedroom filled with toys. There was a model train set on the floor, a punchbag, an enormous Teddy dear, a rocking horse, a fireman’s helmet and a lifesize inflated doll that looked like a real woman.
‘That’s Judy,’ said Sally. ’she’s got a real cunt. Gaskell is a plastic freak.’ Wilt winced. ‘And here are Gaskell’s toys, puberty baby.’
Wilt looked round the room at the mess and shook his head. ‘Looks as though he’s making up for a lost childhood,’ he said.
‘Oh, Henry, you’re so perceptive,’ said Sally, and unscrewed the top of the Vodka bottle.
‘I’m not. It’s just bloody obvious.’
‘Oh you are. You’re just terribly modest, is all. Modest and shy and manly.’ She swigged from the bottle and gave it to Wilt. He took a mouthful inadvisedly and had trouble swallowing it. Sally locked the door and sat down on the bed. She reached up a hand and pulled Wilt towards her.
‘Screw me, Henry baby,’ she said and lifted her skirt, ‘fuck me, honey. Screw the pants off me.’
‘That,’ said Wilt, ‘would be a bit difficult.’
‘Oh. Why?’
‘Well for one thing you don’t appear to be wearing any and anyway why should I?’
‘You want a reason? A reason for screwing?’
‘Yes,’ said Wilt. ‘Yes I do.’
‘Reason’s treason. Feel free.’ She pulled him down and kissed him. Wilt didn’t feel at all free. ‘Don’t be shy, baby.’
‘Shy?’ said Wilt lurching to one side. ‘Me shy?’
‘Sure you’re shy. OK, you’re small. Eva told me…’
‘Small? What do you mean I’m small?’ shouted Wilt furiously.
Sally smiled up at him. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Just you and me and…’
‘It bloody well does matter,’ snarled Wilt. ‘My wife said I was small. I’ll soon show the silly bitch who’s small. I’ll show…’
‘Show me, Henry baby, show me. I like them small. Prick to the quick.’
‘It’s not true,’ Wilt mumbled.
‘Prove it, lover,’ said Sally squirming against him.
‘I won’t,’ said Wilt, and stood up.
Sally stopped squirming and looked at him. ‘You’re just afraid,’ she said. ‘You’re afraid to be free.’
‘Free? Free?’ shouted Wilt, trying to open the door, ‘Locked in a room with another man’s wife is freedom? You’ve got be joking.’
Sally pulled down her skirt and sat up.
‘You won’t?’
‘No,’ said Wilt.
‘Are you a bondage baby? You can tell me. I’m used bondage babies. Gaskell is real…’
‘Certainly not,’ said Wilt. ‘I don’t care what Gaskell is.’
‘You want a blow job, is that it? You want for me to give you a blow job? She got off the bed and came towards him. Wilt looked at her wildly.
