Simon Beckett - Fine Lines

He kept his head tilted so I could see what he was doing. His tongue lightly circled, then pierced its centre with a quick stab. I lifted my gaze to the mirror, and saw Anna inverted, her mouth on him as before. I looked away, back to Zeppo. His tongue and fingers stretched, probed, and manipulated. Heads busy between each other’s legs, they remained locked until Zeppo pulled away and knelt upright again. His face was flushed, and there was a new urgency to his movements as he helped Anna reposition herself on all fours. Kneeling behind her, he moved until they were angled obliquely away from me. There was nothing now I could not see. With one hand on her buttock, he guided himself into her with the other, permitting me to see every detail. Then, gripping her by the hips, he gave a brief glance in my direction and thrust into her. Impaled, she responded by throwing back her head, exposing the line of her throat. I stared at it, clutching at its beauty, but even that disappeared as her head sank down on to the bed and she whimpered, rocking back on her knees to offer her rump to him more prominently.

They coupled like dogs. Zeppo grunted each time he slapped against her with the viscous sound of disturbed mud. His hands gripped and clutched, pulling her back onto him. She squealed. Their rutting became more frantic. He no longer glanced towards my hiding place. His mouth hung open slackly, his grunts growing louder, and it was then I became aware of the smell. Rank and feral, it came to me faintly, but once noticed it was as pervading as rotting fruit. Suddenly the sense of deja vu returned. For an instant, my mind was taken to the dream, and I had a brief vision of another, similar scene peering through the crack of light in a partly open door, looking past the trail of discarded clothes, past the puddle of white silk on the carpet to the two naked, grunting figures on the bed, staring beyond the clutching white limbs to the faces... and then I had jerked my head away and was blundering from the room, fleeing from the strip of light and the awful, bestial noises. I reached the door at the end of the hallway and fumbled with the lock, unable to see in the darkness, but then I was outside and the noises were gone, and the night was cool, and empty, and quiet.

I stood on the pavement in front of the house, panting. A breeze chilled the sweat on my body, making me aware of how damp my clothes were. When I started to shiver I walked back to the car. I felt clammy and unclean. My clothes clung to me, sticky and abrasive. Every inch of my skin seemed sensitive to the slightest nuance of texture. The cool upholstery of the car greeted me like a balm, and I sat for a while without turning on the engine.

When I drove away, I went past Zeppo’s flat without looking at it.

I intended to leave the house early the next morning. But I slept late, the result of having lain awake until almost dawn. When I realised what the time was I panicked. I quickly showered and dressed and went downstairs. The shower was a mistake, but although I had had one the night before my body still felt soiled and sweaty. Even so, I might have escaped in time had I not lingered for a cup of coffee. I had no appetite for breakfast, but it seemed unnatural to leave the house without anything. I told myself that ten minutes would make no difference, and had just taken my first sip when the telephone rang.

I did not answer. I knew who it would be, and cursed myself for not leaving sooner. Or at least having the foresight to take the receiver off the hook. I tried to ignore it, hoping the ringing would stop, but the telephone continued to clamour for attention. I picked it up.

“Morning, Donald. Not got you out of bed, have I?” Zeppo said.

“No.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

I hated the sound of his voice. “What do you want?”

“My, we are tetchy this morning! I thought you’d be full of the joys of spring. Obviously I was wrong.”

“I asked what you want.”

“Well, a little civility wouldn’t go amiss. But if that’s too much to ask for, I thought I’d pop over and see you. Have a chat. Exchange notes. Settle up.”

“I’m on my way out.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can stay in for a while longer. Don’t you want to talk about last night?”

“It’ll have to wait.”

“Donald, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to avoid me. You’re not, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh, good. Then let’s say I’ll see you in about an hour.”

“I’ve told you, I’m going out.”

“Well, now you’re not,” he said, and hung up.

I was tempted to leave anyway. I had no desire to see or speak to Zeppo, and it would serve him right to have a wasted journey. But I knew I would have to face him sooner or later. I might as well get it over with.

Predictably, he was late. When I let him in he looked even more pleased with himself than usual, if that was possible.

“Who got out of the wrong side of bed this morning?” he asked. I ignored him, leaving him to follow me into the lounge. “Don’t say you’re not talking to me, Donald?”

I turned to face him. “I would appreciate it if we could settle this quickly. You’re late as it is.”

“I’ll consider my wrists smacked.” He went to the drinks table. “Don’t mind, do you? You can have one yourself, if you like.”

“No thank you.”

Despite the fact that I was standing, he sat down, stretching out his legs as he took a drink. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or not? You’ve got a face like a toilet pan.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve simply got a lot to do, and the sooner you leave the sooner I can get on with it.”

“We really are in a shitty mood, aren’t we? If you’re pissed off because I’m late, it was because I took Anna home before I came here. Am I excused now, or do you want a note from my mum?”

“You mean Anna was still at your flat when you called me?”

“Put your eyes back in, Donald. She was under the shower. She didn’t hear. And I didn’t tell her I was coming to see you, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He stretched. “Anyway, you should grumble. I was expecting a leisurely morning in bed, but the silly bitch got a sudden attack of the guilts and decided she had to go. I managed to give her a quickie in the shower after I’d called you, but that was all. I think she felt disloyal about enjoying it so much.” He grinned. “That didn’t seem to bother her too much last night, though, did it? What did you think of the show, by the way?”

I did not answer.

“Come on, talk to me. Was it all right or wasn’t it?” I looked away, wishing he were anywhere but with me. He grinned. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it? Your big night?” There was mocking concern in his voice.

“You came here to collect the picture. I suggest you do that and then go.”

“Where are your manners, Donald? I didn’t rush you out of my flat last night, did I? Be sociable. I only want to make sure that everything was okay, that’s all. I aim to please. If you’ve any complaints I want to hear them.”

“I haven’t.”

He was enjoying himself. “I’m afraid I don’t believe you. Come on, Donald, tell Uncle Zeppo what’s upset you. I can see something has. I’m sensitive like that.” He waited. I said nothing. “If you won’t tell me what it is, I’ll only have to guess.”

I hated his games. “Nothing. Everything was fine.”

“Ah ah, Donald. You’re telling fibs. Did I forget to do something, is that it? I tried to give you a selection, but I suppose I might have missed something out. If you were expecting something a bit more exotic you should have told me. I don’t mind doing requests.”