Page 38 of Filter This
‘Are you going to stare at me all the way there?’ He was still looking dead ahead but a half-smile played around his lips.
‘Calm down, I’m not staring at you. You’ve just got stuff on your face,’ Ali retorted and turned to look out the window.
They were crossing the canal, the city lights reflected in the dark water. It was so nice to really take it all in, Ali thought. Usually she was hunched over her phone looking at someone else’s pic of the canal with the night sky above and enhanced by a filter. Her thought was interrupted by Sam taking her hand and, to her total shock and considerable alarm, she felt sudden tears gather. How long since she’d held someone’s hand like this? Or at all. She held the cool, dry hands of her father, which was indescribably hard to do for some reason, like holding something unbearably hot. It took a lot out of her to hold Miles’s hands, which is why she most often sat by him holding her phone instead.
I am lonely.
The thought disturbed Ali. So she soothed herself, turning her focus to thoughts of her growing following, and marvelled at how nice it was to hold Sam’s hand. It’d make for a great post, though asking for a hand-holding pic would be the fastest way to break the moment.
‘Come on … why’re you not staring at me anymore?’ Sam was faux whining. ‘Tell me I’m pretteee!’
Ali grinned. ‘That’s the last thing you need.’
They pulled up outside the battered Georgian house. It looked completely different now, bathed in the First Proper Date Filter. Tinder Filter had left Ali with a distinctly grotty impression which she was now reframing as bohemian.
Once through the door, they attempted the kind of passionate, on-the-move fumble always shown on TV, which naturally ended in a painful collision with the hall table, and neither of them undressed in any significant way.
Ali looked at Sam’s black skinny jeans wedged halfway down his legs and laughed. ‘We’ll need to surgically remove those, I’d say, c’mon.’ She led the way, pulling off her jumper en route to theLove Actuallyshrine that doubled as Sam’s bedroom. Sam kicked off his trainers and shuffle-hopped after her, cupping his junk.
She flopped onto the bed to enjoy the spectacle of him trying to get free of the jeans – he is so cute, she thought. At last, he kicked them clear and raised his arms in triumph. ‘The boner is unleashed!’ he roared.
‘Well done, it’s a very nice boner.’ Ali grinned.
Sam pulled off his faded T-shirt and came towards her, gathering her into his arms and kissing her neck. He pulled off her top and her breath caught as he started licking her nipples through the lace of her bra. He’s just so good at this, she thought as he parted her legs and started to push into her. Ali moaned but suddenly Sam stopped.
‘Maybe you should keep it down,’ he whispered.
‘Eh, I’m not even being that loud.’ Ali was testy. ‘Besides I was just trying to be encouraging for you,’ she added.
Sam laughed. ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Then his grin disappeared and he turned serious again. ‘Look, it’s not the neighbours or anything – it’s … eh …’ He cocked his head down towards her stomach.
‘Oh for god’s sake, sex is fine with a baby in you, have you literally never watched a movie? The guy always says this and it’s fiiine. C’mon, do the thing you were doing.’ She leaned up to nuzzle his ear.
He began to move into her once more then paused again.
‘I know the geography is all fine, I know the baby isn’t being tortured by some creepy game of whack-a-mole with my dick, but they can hear in there and research says development starts very early.’
‘Sam! Please shut up.’ Ali wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. ‘Okay we can google it after, let’s just be quiet, if we can.’ He kissed her back.
As Sam got tea on – she wished she could suggest some wine – Ali looked at the pictures on his living-room shelves and texted Liv.
Gonna stay with Tinder Sam, see you tomoro X.
The pics were of little Sam pretty much at all times surrounded by women of various ages but all united by a familial thread of similarity. Liv replied in textbook Liv-fashion.
O-kaaay. Seems weird. Bye.
Sam appeared bearing mugs and with chocolate digestives under his arm.
‘Is this your harem of bitches then or what?’ Ali indicated the pictures.
‘Ha. Yuck. No. I have a lot of sisters. And aunts.’
‘And mothers?’
Sam placed the tea on a low table made – student-cliché style – from some bricks and a pallet.
‘Ah no, Mum died when I was small.’
