Jennie Ensor - The Girl in His Eyes

She squeezed alongside the counter at the bar and ordered a double Jack Daniels and Coke. The guy standing beside her watched as she moved away from the bar and stood against a shaded pillar in a darker part of the room. He was thin and tall with black hair. When she looked back at him, he looked away. She turned her attention to her drink.

Time passing. Sounds coming, going. People coming, going. She drifted away, trying to forget what she had done that evening – all the things that had earned her a little more than last time, and the ease with which she’d done them. Tonight, at the club, she’d again had a strange sense that she was losing her grip on who she was, as if another girl was waking up inside her, one who’d lain dormant for years. A character in a play that had been written and put away in a dusty cupboard, biding her time until she had the chance to come alive in a theatre. And now she had her chance, this girl who didn’t care what happened to her, who didn’t mind that she earned a living by arousing desire in strangers.

Laura took another gulp of her drink. Suddenly, she was afraid. It was only three weeks since she’d started at the club, how would she be in another three weeks? But she ought to keep on going, just a little longer, to be sure she didn’t end up in the same perilous situation all over again.

The sensations of the moment began to take over – the noise of her surroundings and the warm rush of alcohol through her body. Her thoughts stopped, her memories of the hours just gone began to blur, her fear subsided. It was all falling away now, sloughing off like sunburnt skin.

‘Can I buy you another drink?’

It was the guy from the bar. He was handsome, in a gaunt sort of way. He wore a silver ear stud in the shape of a guitar. He had a warm smile.

She told him a double Jack Daniels and Coke. When he came back, he asked if she always came to bars on her own.

‘Not usually. Do you?’

He smiled. ‘Not usually. But my friends haven’t showed – I think I’ve got the wrong place, or the wrong time. What’s your name?’

‘Laura.’

‘I’m Dylan. You didn’t look as if you were having much fun, that’s why I came over.’

He smiled again, pulling hair from his eyes.

‘No, I don’t like it here much. I just came to… to wind down, I suppose. It’s been a long evening.’

‘What are you winding down from?’

She decided to tell him the truth. She was tired of pretending to be other than she was, and what did it matter, anyway?

‘I work in a gentlemen’s club.’

He looked puzzled.

‘You know, lap dancing. Like Spearmint Rhino.’

His eyebrows raised. ‘Do you enjoy it?’

‘I wish I didn’t have to do it.’

‘Why do you?’

‘I need the money to pay my rent. I was out of work for a while.’

‘Everyone needs money, don’t they?’ He looked into her eyes. ‘You’re lucky you’re so attractive.’

‘I guess if I was fat and ugly, I’d have to do something else.’ She smiled, flirtatiously. He was a bit older than she’d first thought – probably twenty-six or twenty-seven.

‘I’m sure you do very well. What were you doing before?’

‘Not much. A job here, a job there. I was fired from my last one. I’ve got a degree in history but I haven’t found a good use for it yet. What do you do?’

‘I’m a biochemist. I’ve started doing research into the causes of dementia. My dad had it. I’d like to help find a cure, some day.’

‘It must be wonderful, to do something you believe in. I’ve never had that. I’ve no idea what I want to do with my life.’

His face stayed serious. ‘Don’t leave it until it’s too late.’

She finished the drink. It had done the trick. The bad thoughts had left. Her mind was slowing, getting fuzzier. She wanted to lie down in a quiet place and close her eyes…

‘Are you OK?’

‘It’s been a busy night. And I’ve had too much to drink, on an empty stomach.’ She smiled brightly. The drink had loosened her tongue. She wanted to tell him everything. ‘I’m not drunk though, not yet.’

‘Do you want to be?’

She shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

‘Why?’

‘It makes me feel better.’

‘Being drunk isn’t good – I know from experience. Don’t you have someone to talk to?’

‘Not really, no one I can talk to about everything. I don’t have many close friends.’

‘That’s a pity. Everyone needs someone to talk to.’

‘There’s only Rachel, and I don’t think she would understand. I’ve told her about the club, but not what it’s really like. I don’t think I should tell her too much.’

He came closer. Gently, he placed his arm around her. ‘You’re in a bad way, aren’t you?’

‘I suppose.’ She looked straight at him. ‘I came here because I didn’t want to go home by myself. But I’ll be OK now.’

‘How are you getting home?’

‘Taxi. I’ll get one outside.’

She tried to remember his name. Yes, Dylan, like the poet.

‘It was good talking to you, Dylan,’ she said. ‘I’d better go now.’

He moved away from her. She moved away from the pillar. The room swayed.

‘Do you want me to come home with you? I won’t mind if you say no.’

‘Yes, OK. Come home with me.’

She hadn’t done this for a long time – meeting a stranger in a bar and going with him. But tonight… She wanted it suddenly, so badly. Skin touching skin, the heat of bodies moving together. She could kiss him, easily. There was something about this guy, the way he looked at her. He wasn’t going to judge her – or use her.

He held her close as she walked, his arm around her waist. She nearly fell on a kerb, and laughed it off. Her key got stuck in the lock and he helped her. For a moment, she wondered if this was safe, and why she was inviting someone she hardly knew into her flat.

She made coffee then took him into her room. They sat on her bed with the heater on, a red silk scarf thrown over the lamp so its light wouldn’t show up the damp marks on the walls and the dust on the table.

‘Sorry it’s such a dump.’

‘Don’t worry. My place isn’t much better.’

He was only saying that to be polite – or to make her feel better. He really was a nice guy, far nicer than the ones she normally met.

‘You’re really out of it, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I’m sorry.’

He looked into her eyes. ‘It’s none of my business, but do you… do you ever sleep with the guys in this place where you work?’

‘No, I wouldn’t do that. I just dance for them, that’s enough.’

He nodded, sipped his coffee. She asked if he had a girlfriend.

‘I was seeing someone. It ended last year.’

‘Relationships always go wrong for me, sooner or later.’ Laura laughed. ‘It’s my fault, I always choose guys that don’t care about me or the other way around. It’s pretty stupid.’

‘I don’t think so. Whatever we do, there has to be a reason.’

‘What do you think the reason is, in my case, then?’

‘You don’t think you’re worth much, so you treat yourself as if you’re not.’

‘I see.’ A dart of pain went through her, as if he’d jabbed her with a needle.

‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

‘No, it’s OK. You’re probably right.’

She leaned forward and kissed his lips, softly. He looked surprised. Surprised but pleased.

‘Look, Laura, are you sure you want to do this? I could leave, if you like. Or just stay here and sleep.’

‘I’m sure. Aren’t you?’

She knew she was more than slightly drunk. But not too drunk to know what she wanted.

He kissed her, took off her blouse and jeans, and caressed her until she was aroused, then he undressed. He kissed her again and held the top of her arms tightly as he fucked her.