50 Reasons to Say Goodbye Read Free Page A

man. I need to know, need to be sure.
    It only takes a week of hanging around in the Burleigh for the opportunity to appear. His name is Andrew. He’s beautiful – dark skin, high cheekbones, a sort of male Naomi Campbell. Only he’s not a model, he’s a postman. I like that idea.
    At night he seemingly lives in the Burleigh. I tell Nick that I think he’s beautiful.
    Nick says, “Yeah. I spoke to him once. He’s very lovely, very intelligent – a very beautiful tart. But you could do worse, for a first time.”
    The next evening I see him there with some friends. He smiles at me. I am behaving like an adolescent schoolgirl. “He smiled at me!” I tell Nick.
    He sighs. “Go and say
hi
then.”
    I shrug. “Nah, he probably doesn’t fancy me anyway,” I say.
    Friday, he’s there again. This time he offers me a drink and then invites me back to his house for coffee. We both know what coffee means and we both want it; I am terrified.
    Nick slips a condom into my hand as he pushes me towards the door. “Good luck,” he says raising aneyebrow. “Don’t worry.”
    Trembling, I walk back with him. His voice is smooth and calm.
    I am scared. Scared of looking stupid, scared of not knowing what to do, scared of AIDS, scared of negotiating safe sex.
    He sits me on the sofa and makes coffee. On the wall he has a safe sex poster. It shows a man holding a condom. It says, “Live to fuck, again and again.”
    â€œThat’s one thing I don’t need to worry about then,”
I think.
    He serves coffee on the little wooden table. My hand is trembling, the teaspoon rattles against the cup.
    Andrew looks at me. “Are you OK?” he asks.
    I smile at him. “Yeah, I erh …”
    I am about to say that I have never done this before, but it suddenly strikes me as presumptuous. This could just be coffee after all.
    He nods in an understanding way. He says, “I know.”
    I wonder what he knows and how. I wrinkle my brow at him.
    He says, “I know what will help.”
    I cough. “Yes?” I say.
    He says, “Put down your coffee cup.”
    I place it on the table; it clatters against the saucer as it makes contact. Andrew places one hand behind my head, kisses me on the lips. He pauses, looks into my eyes. I launch into him, years of unacknowledged desire welling up in me, driving me forwards. I kiss him madly, maniacally, a man deranged.
    He says, “Hey, HEY! Calm down!” He laughs.
    We lie on the sofa and hug and kiss. He slows me down. It is softer, more romantic than I imagined. It is more wonderful, more magical than I thought possible.
    He pulls away. “Better?” he asks.
    I nod. I have stopped trembling.
    â€œGood,” he says leading me to the bedroom.
    The sex is soft. Bodies rub together. We caress and fondle each other to a slow climax.
    I am expecting to leave, expecting even to be thrown out, but we lie and talk and eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms. I feel more relaxed than I ever remember being.
    When I wake up in the morning Andrew is already up. I wonder for a moment if this can last, if I have read him wrong, but then he appears in the doorway, smiling broadly.
    â€œGet up, get out,” he says laughing. “The job’s done and I’ve got a life to live.”
    I frown at him.
    â€œOh and say hi to Nick for me!” he says with a wink.
    I walk away from the house feeling complex and irrevocably changed.
    I feel bigger, older, clearer – calm, relaxed and sad all at once.

Dork
    It’s been a dull day. Everyone has gone away for the weekend, well except for Nick and myself that is. He’s already in the pub when I call, so I join him there. The sun is setting; the rays are forcing themselves through the dirt-frosted windows. The Burleigh can actually look OK at night, when the coloured lights disguise the tobacco stained walls, when cute