Page 22 of Wish You Were Here
‘I think you’re taking care of yourself, which is never a bad thing.’
‘So, in relation to us, Beno, I think that right now, whatever this is, whatever it might become in the future, I love having you as a mate.’
‘Me too. I’ve never had an Australian friend before.’
‘Not even in London? I’ve heard there're tons of Aussies over there.’
‘There are, and I’ve met a few, but I’ve never had an actual Aussie friend before, and especially not one as hot as you.’
‘Oh, stop it, and great, now I’m blushing.’
I laugh. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s okay. So, mates?’
‘Mates,’ I reply, which is nice, and talking to her feels so natural. If only I could meet someone like that in London. I feel like every time I meet someone here or go on a date, it’s awkward, difficult and I’m never sure what to say, but withSaskia it’s so easy and we just get each other. Maybe with her being so far away, it means that nothing can happen, so there’s no pressure, or perhaps I should actively start trying to date Australian women in London because perhaps they are better. Either way, we are going to be friends, and that’s probably a good thing.
‘Although when I mentioned this to my best mate, Jess, total babe, you would love her, she said we could have FaceTime sex.’
‘Oh my. What exactly would that involve?’
‘Honestly, I have no idea, but she does it with her husband when he’s away with work. I’m not sure it’s something I’m quite ready to explore yet, Beno.’
‘Me either. Just getting ready for this took me an hour of changing shirts and getting the right location with the perfect amount of light. Imagine if we were going to partake in a little online sex, then we’d be talking about hair removal, new underwear and I’d have to really think about camera angles.’
‘Don’t worry, Beno, it’s not happening anytime soon.’
‘Phew. Although you know, maybe one day.’
‘You never know,’ says Saskia with a salacious grin.
For our first FaceTime, it is almost perfect. In the end, we talk for just over an hour before it is time to say goodbye. We look at each other. Saskia in her bedroom in Glebe, me in my bedroom in Clapham, and there is clearly a spark of attraction between us. An unspoken feeling that if we lived closer, or even in the same country, we’d be taking this further.
‘This was pretty amazing, eh,’ says Saskia.
‘Yes, it was,’ I reply. I don’t want to say goodbye, but I need to get to my parents’ house for Mum’s birthday. ‘I wish you were here.’
‘Wish you were here,’ she replies, and we share another moment before I have to end it.
‘When can we do it again?’ I ask.
‘I’ll message you, but definitely in the week if you can.’
‘I’ll make sure we can. So …’
‘So …’
‘I guess I’ll speak to you during the week then.’
‘Okay, mate.’
‘Bye then, mate.’
‘Bye.’
‘Bye.’
We look at each other, both burst out laughing, flushing red from either embarrassment or attraction, and then we finally say goodbye. When she is gone, I fall back on my bed and look up at my ceiling. How inconvenient is this? I finally meet a girl I really like, could see myself dating, but she lives so far away. I am well and truly fucked. However, sexually frustrated or not, potentially falling for a girl I can’t be with or not, I have to get in my car and drive to my parents’ house in Marlow. Poppy has already texted me twice to make sure I haven’t forgotten.
