downstairs couldn't hear our gallant frolicking.
Actually, that's probably a bit too fair on Marth. What really happened was that I had to 'attend' to him for a good ten minutes until he was ready, after which we had probably three minutes at the very most of 'action', when the bed did leap and complain a little, while Marth screwed up his face like he was trying to fart, until he came loudly, like a truck squeezing on its brakes, and eventually fell into me, gasping heavily to pronounce the session successfully over. Less than five minutes later he was asleep and snoring loudly into my ear, and I cursed my luck once again, promising as soon as I worked out how to get home, that I'd take my profile off the dating site immediately, and forget all about trying to find a man.
I drank the rest of the wine while Marth slept off his dubious bout of love making, and fingered through the books he had on his shelf.
The only title I recognised was 'Mr Nice', Howard Marks's autobiography, which amused me to see had been inscribed inside with the following:
Thought you might like this.
Lots of love,
Gran.
The rest of the books were either troubleshooting guides for some technical aspect of computing, or had something to do with how to guarantee internet business success. Each one had the same kind of targeted business speak on the back, designed to engage the audience and sell what was essentially a lie. I read as much as I could of one, and then put it back on the shelf with the others, bored by what it was telling me. I couldn't help but think I'd been sold a lie myself, and he was right there, snoring away peacefully in the bed in front of me, another notch carved into his bed post.
There were thousands of people around the world all snuggled up with their loved ones, and here I was with yet another dud. I couldn't remember all of their names, but the list was long enough to give me a complex, and showed no signs of slowing down. It was another unsuccessful evening to add to the catalogue of others I'd been busy building up, and the bad sex had made me feel exactly how I knew it would (and hoped unsuccessfully it wouldn't). Empty. If their was one thing I wished for (apart from a tall, dark, handsome and rich stranger to come into my life and whisk me away on a wondrous adventure), It was to have the capacity to learn from my past mistakes and see things for what they really were. That, and the tall, dark, handsome and rich stranger, seemed like such a long way away from where I was right now, that it wasn't even worth my while considering it.
With that depressing thought in mind, and my head buzzing quite nicely from the booze, I climbed into bed alongside my slumbering prince, and waited eagerly for the morning to come.
Chapter 2
Marth tried to hump me in the morning like a horny dog. I had slept much more soundly than I expected to, only to wake up to something hard poking into my side. As soon as I realised what it was, I rolled towards the edge of the bed in disgust, and then promptly fell out of it, landing comically on the floor with a dull thud. Marth began to crawl after me.
' I have to go', I said, attempting to gather myself together.
' What?' Marth said. 'Why?'
' I can't stay', I said. 'I've got to meet my parents.'
My head hurt. Light was pouring in through the window where we'd failed to pull the curtains across last night, and it gave everything a harsh edge I could have done without. Marth just watched me from the bed like a life sized teddy bear, as I buzzed about as quickly as I could, collecting my things and getting dressed.
When I was sure I had everything, or at least sure I had the things I really needed, I made half an attempt at saying goodbye, opened up the door to the closet, and then finally found the door to the hallway. Marth was angling for a goodbye kiss, but there was no way he was getting one. His lips were still stained red from the wine the night before, and he had