Page 57 of The First Time I Saw You
The door to the bathroom opens and closes. We only have one bathroom and so the lock is never used; we have an unspoken rule, even if someone is in the shower. Ma had a code brown once when Sarah was in the bath; I don’t think I’ve ever heard Da laugh so much. It was the twenty-ninth of March and in our house, that date is known as The Day Mrs McLaughlin Shat Herself. We have a curry every year to celebrate. Anyway, from then on, the door stays unlocked. Besides, Da always needs a shite when I’m in the shower.
‘Could you not have waited ten minutes?’ I ask as I lather shampoo into my hair. The shower curtain is pulled back, my eyes flying open in shock as the shampoo runs into them, stinging like a bastard. I attempt to cover my tackle with one hand whilst trying to wipe the shampoo out of my eyes. ‘Jesus!’ I shout, turning my face to the streams of water, washing the suds away as Isabella stands there.
‘I think we’ve waited long enough,’ she answers as I look over my shoulder at her. She disappears from sight, and I hear the lock complain as it is guided into its latch.
She pulls her dress over her head, steps out of her knickers that are more elastic than material and steps into the shower. She has always been stunning to look at and I feel myself responding to her. I’m still half-turning towards the shower but she takes my hand and turns me around.
‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ I say, trying to address her face, but my eyes are hungry for more.If all we’re going to see for the rest of our lives is darkness, they say,then we’re damn well going to enjoy what’s standing in front of us.
‘Ah Sammy, I’m not proposing marriage,’ she answers as she reaches for me. ‘Just a little fun.’ She smiles as she kneels.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a little fun and I’m sure it’s going to be over before I have time to think about whether it’s a good idea or not.
‘Stop,’ my mouth says, taking over the decision. My eyes do not enjoy this decision and they frown and tell me that it will serve me right when they stop working.What are you doing?they say. ‘I can’t. I’m just not ready.’ She looks up at me with a puzzled expression and then gets up.
‘For the love of God, Sammy, what did she do to you?’ She strokes my cheek and looks sadly at me. I cower further away from her reach at the same time as I register the sound of the lock being opened – Mam had insisted on a lock that could be opened from the other side of the door – but I’m too late to react.
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’ Mam shrieks as she is met with what I’m sure is a clear view of Isabella’s – it has to be said – magnificent breasts.
‘Waahheeeey! Sammy boy!’ Da’s voice booms from behind.
‘Mr McLaughlin, you avert your eyes this instant!’
‘Good on you, my boy!!’ he shouts. Isabella is laughing and reaching for a towel as the door closes on Mam reciting the rosary.
Bret’s face fills the screen; the edges of the monitor are held in place by the closing passageway. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him that I’d forgotten just how American he is.
‘Sammy, everyone sends their love, buddy.’ He grins his pearly whites. ‘The place isn’t the same without you – are you sure you’re going to leave? I know how difficult it’s going to be for you, but we’ll all help.’ I smile at him. His words are genuine, but I know that if I went back there, they would all soon be taken up with their own lives, their own priorities.
‘DC isn’t for me any more,’ I tell him. ‘At least not for now. I need to get to grips with things before I think about going back to work.’
‘Did you get the insurance money from the house yet?’ he asks as he slurps a health food shake that I know he got from the gym we used to go to together. I think about how we would run first, how he would stride ahead of me. I have another gut-wrenching moment when I think about how much I loved to run. Will I ever be able to do that again?
‘Not yet, but it should be here soon.’ I push the thought away. I’ll still be able to use a treadmill.
‘What are you going to do with it? Buy somewhere over there?’
‘Nah, not for a while.’ I don’t tell him that the thought of being in a house on my own, once the fog rolls in, terrifies me. ‘I’m enjoying Mam’s cooking too much,’ I laugh. ‘So, what’s new with you?’ I change the subject.
‘I, my friend, am in love.’ He puts the drink out of shot and leans towards the right so that the screen is filled with the side of his face.
‘Are you indeed?’ I grin, knowing full well that the only thing Bret falls in love with is the measurements of his biceps. He holds up a picture of a car and I burst out laughing. I hear Da opening the front door and making a huge fuss as Isabella arrives. Bret is telling me about his new car as Isabella comes into the lounge. She stands behind me then leans forwards and kisses me on the cheek, halting Bret’s talk about sweeping indicators and virtual cockpits.
‘Seems like I’m not the only one,’ Bret says. ‘Hi!’ His voice booms through the tiny speakers as he leans towards his own screen.
‘How d’you do.’ Isabella smiles and I can see Bret’s eyebrows rising as he takes in her full figure, her heavy dark curls and long eyelashes. ‘I’m Isabella.’
‘Ah, just like that nymphomania—’
I interrupt Bret before he says another word about the stories I used to tell him about Isabella.
‘She’s an old friend,’ I interject, trying to telepathically urge Bret to shut up across the thousands of miles over the Atlantic Ocean.
‘Riiiighhht . . .’ he responds. ‘I hope you’re taking good care of our Sammy?’
‘I’m trying to.’ She leans forward and bites my ear as I try to lean my head away from her, and then she leaves the room to join Mam and Da in the kitchen.
Bret starts to talk in an overly loud whisper.
