‘Mark’s coming home with us,’ I said, still staring at him. ‘Aren’t you?’
He paused. Shit, the skis were still in the cupboard.
He stared back, then slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, began to nod his head.
‘Oh, no,’ Kate groaned, as she slapped her hand to her forehead, ‘another crisis coming up.’
When we entered the flat, Kate went straight to her room. She never could bear to watch drama unfolding. I turned on the stereo to compensate for the paper-thin walls. She didn’t like to hear dramas either.
‘Angel Eyes’, by Wet Wet Wet, crooned from the speakers. In minutes, our clothes were off and, oh, it felt good. No, it felt amazing. As he rose above me, hips moving, it didn’t even cross my mind that I was being unfaithful. This was Mark. Carly and Mark. It was like Richard and Judy, without the sofas.
He didn’t whisper sweet nothings, make false promises, make me swear undying love. I didn’t worry about him respecting me in the morning, or hold my stomach in, or hide my unshaven legs. And I didn’t fake my orgasm. More than seven years after I first kissed Mark Barwick, I finally felt what it was like to make love to him. If I’d known he would feel that good, I’d have done it years ago.
I fell asleep grinning, wrapped around him like cling film.
A banging noise woke me the next morning. I tried to open my eyes, but someone had superglued them in the night. My head hurt and a carpet had been fitted to my tongue. I felt an arm across my chest.
‘Doug, I think I’m paralysed,’ I groaned.
No reply.
‘Doug, call the paramedics. I need a body transplant.’
Still no reply. Had I suffocated him in the night?
I forced an eye open. I opened my mouth to scream, but my tonsils were on strike. If I wasn’t in need of medical attention before then I was now. I was about to have a heart attack. Not Doug. Definitely not Doug. Mark Barwick’s face was only inches from mine.
He was sleeping soundly, his fingers intertwined in my hair. At least that explained why I couldn’t move my head.
I winced inside. What had I done? I was a total fuck-up!
There was more banging, coming from the direction of the hall. I fought the pain barrier and the paralysis and jumped out of bed. A chain of disjointed thoughts had suddenly flashed through my head. Bed – sex – Mark – morning – banging – door… Doug!
I rushed to see if my worst nightmare had just come true. I peered through the peephole, praying that it was the postman, the milkman, the bailiffs, even my mother. But no, as my eyeball focused, I saw the gorgeous blond hair and the concerned furrow of those familiar brows.
I panicked and burst back into my bedroom, launching myself on Mark.
‘Mark, wake up, wake up!’ I hissed. ‘Doug’s at the door.’
He was instantly awake. ‘Oh, shit, Carly,’ he moaned.
‘Is that it? Mark, do something! Get dressed. Quickly. Go out the window.’
‘Carly, we’re on the third floor.’
‘Okay, good point.’
I was verging on hysteria.
I thought frantically, forcing myself not to hyperventilate.
‘Right, I’ve got it. Get up, quick, come with me.’
I dragged him out of bed, grabbed his worldly belongings into a bundle and thrust him into the hallway and towards Kate’s door.
‘Kate, Kate, incoming traffic. Don’t even ask, just go with this, please,’ I begged.
I pushed Mark into Kate’s bed and ran back to the door. I opened it, yawning, rubbing my eyes and doing a feeble impersonation of someone who’d just woken up.
‘Shit, Carly, I was just about to call the police. I thought you’d been murdered in your sleep.’
I shuddered, thinking that if I’d given Doug a key to the flat, then that would have been a real possibility.
Mark staggered out of Kate’s room, heading for the bathroom. Doug looked shocked as he said hello.
He pulled me in to the bedroom. He knows, I thought, he knows.
‘Carly, why didn’t you tell me?’
Because it would have been like ripping your heart out and stamping on it?
I was still silent as my heart stopped and I braced myself for the explosion.
It didn’t come. Instead, I got a large helping of concern. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Kate and Mark? Oh, sweetheart, I know you and him were an item a long time ago, but even so, it must still be hard for you to have them sleeping together next door.’
I shrugged my shoulders. I couldn’t bear this. I had just committed the equivalent of mass murder to this guy’s heart and here he was worrying about me. I didn’t deserve him. I really didn’t. I almost wished he would shout and scream at me instead.
‘Baby, you look knackered. C’mon, let’s go to bed.’ I followed aimlessly. I’d lost the will to live.
We climbed into bed and as he cuddled me tightly, a look of discomfort crossed his face. He pulled one arm away and it disappeared under the covers. When it resurfaced, it was holding a…
Oh I couldn’t bear it.
It was holding a condom wrapper.
Doug studied it like he expected it to morph into something else, then he looked at me disbelievingly as realisation dawned. He didn’t even speak. He didn’t have to – the expression on his face said everything.
‘Doug,’ I began, but he cut me dead.
‘Don’t say a word. Just don’t.’
Instead, I closed my eyes and kept them shut as he got up, dressed and left. Only the slamming door broke the total silence.
I stared at the ceiling, too numb even to cry. I was waiting to wake up and discover that this was all a horrible dream when Mark appeared in the doorway.
‘I heard him go. Does he know?’
I nodded mournfully. ‘I thought condoms made sex safe,’ I sighed, the irony seemingly ludicrous.
Mark stared at his feet for a long time.
‘I’m so sorry, Cooper. I guess for once I didn’t save your ass.’
I thought about Doug and our