Praise Read Free Page B

you then?’
    â€˜Fifteen. I did everything when I was fifteen.’
    We drove over to the party and walked in with a carton of Toohey’s Old and a four-litre cask of Lambrusco. There were thirty or forty people there. I knew most of them. Louise’s friends. University graduates. Doctors. The gainfully employed. I wasn’t sure what I thought of them. I’d almost gone that way myself. I’d believed in things. Dedication. Diligence. Direction. I’d even finished school in the top one percent of the state. It was a cruel and meaningless system, still, there I was at the top of it. But things had changed since then. I was ashamed of it all now.
    I introduced Cynthia to my sister and a few others. We put our drinks in the laundry sink, where the ice was, and sucked down the beer. The party developed. Cynthia took to it well. She was short and oddly shaped, but she had style. She moved around, talking, laughing, concentrating on the men.
    I ended up on the couch, drinking and watching. The stereo was on, a few people were dancing. The rest were getting themselves wherever it was they needed to go. It was Friday night. Party night. It was beyond my conception, the importance of Friday night to those who worked a five-day week. It was always something to watch though, curious and a little appalling. All that desperate relief. Right across the country, in nightclubs and bars and restaurants, millions of them were at it. If I thought about it too long it became horrifying.
    Cynthia came back to me some time after midnight. She was drunk.
    â€˜So when are you going to fuck me?’ she said.
    â€˜I didn’t know you wanted me to.’
    â€˜Of course I do. You’re the one who’s got all the hang-ups about it ...’
    I looked up at her. It was not a thing I understood. I had no sense of timing, of when things should or shouldn’t be happening in a relationship. Of when a relationship had even started.
    â€˜Seriously?’ I said. ‘You think we should sleep together?’
    â€˜We’ve
been
sleeping together. I think we should fuck.’
    â€˜Okay then.’
    â€˜You mean I’ve been waiting all this time and all I had to do was ask?’
    â€˜I guess so.’
    â€˜Jesus. What is wrong with you?’
    â€˜I’m sorry. I just haven’t thought about it.’
    She looked at me, hard. ‘How can you not think about it?’
    I shrugged. The truth was I thought about it all the time, but not about it actually happening, not with anyone I knew.
    She said, ‘Tonight then?’
    I said, ‘Okay.’
    But we didn’t leave the party until our beer had run out and people were starting on the Lambrusco.
    We caught a cab home, to my place. The house was lively. The old men were still awake, most of the doors were open and the radios were turned up high. Vass stuck his head out of his room and said good evening.
    I introduced Cynthia. Vass bowed, all charm. He was tall and thin and black. Emphysema made him whisper when he talked. ‘Hello little lady,’ he said. Cynthia leaned against me.
    â€˜Hello,’ she said.
    Vass looked at me. ‘You kids feel like a drink?’
    â€˜I don’t think so, Vass.’
    â€˜Where you been all week anyway?’
    â€˜Away. Cynthia’s place.’
    â€˜Ah. Well. You know you’ve got some new neighbours.’
    â€˜No. I didn’t know that.’
    â€˜Right in the room next to yours.’
    â€˜I see.’
    â€˜They put out a welcome mat, for chrissake.’
    â€˜Have you met them?’
    â€˜Not yet.’
    Then he was gone. Cynthia was curled up against me. She looked tired. I led her into my flat. Maybe we’d just crawl into bed and go to sleep. I wouldn’t have minded. I was nervous. The only thing that was going to get me through fucking her was the alcohol, and I hadn’t had that much to drink. I wasn’t sure what to do. Cynthia had