Three Way (22 page)

‘We’ll try,’ I say, glancing at Lauren, who’s staring at me with goggle-eyes.

‘He lasts for ages,’ Ashley says. I laugh loudly, shaking my head. Lauren’s smile disappears but quickly comes back.

‘Night then,’ I say, taking Lauren’s hand and leading her to the bedroom. I close the door as she walks over to the bed and sits down. I know what’s coming.

‘So you’ve slept with her?’ she asks. I nod slowly, walk over to her and sit down next to her.

‘That a problem?’ I ask. Lauren shakes her head, her drunken eyes looking at the floor.

‘No. Just…didn’t know.’ We sit in silence. Lauren starts chewing a nail.

‘Are we okay?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, of course.’ she replies, looking at me.

‘Look, I don’t want you to think…I mean, I’ve just got out of a long relationship and I’m still a bit….but, then we met and I dunno, we got on so well-’

‘Yeah we did.’

‘Yeah. But I don’t want to mess you around or promise you something I can’t deliver,’ I say. She crosses her legs and takes my hand in her lap.

‘I knew you were trouble,’ she says. ‘I just don’t listen to myself.’ She sighs.

‘Hey,’ I say. She turns to face me. ‘I promise, I will not screw you around. Whatever happens, I won’t fuck you over. All I can do is be honest.’

‘Are you being honest?’ she asks.

‘Yes.’ At least, I hope I am.

I lay awake, Lauren snoring beside me. Okay, it’s not loud but you can definitely hear it. Sunlight tries and fails to push through my curtains. Although the conversation got heavy, it didn’t stop us having sex for a large chunk of the night. When I say that, don’t misunderstand me. I’m not that good. I just mean we were physically intimate. That’s a better description. I guess we’re both in different stages of vulnerability. Have to be so careful with her. Note to self, Lauren is lovely and pretty and I must not be a shit in any way. I still don’t understand how she can be so into me after such a short space of time. My job must be more appealing than even I thought. No, it’s more than that, I’m sure of it. What would Svetla make of all this? I’d like to think she’d be jealous that I’d managed to bag such a stunner. Maybe she’d even be happy for me? At least I’m moving on, not thinking about her all the time. Would she approve? Approve of my behaviour? Of me? I said I wouldn’t keep talking about Svetla and what do I do the moment my mind starts to wander…?

Was I a crap friend to Ashley? When she came back last night, she needed to talk. Properly talk, with someone she knew and trusted. Was I there for her? Maybe I was a bit annoyed she happened to have boyfriend/shag drama on the one night I asked her not to be here. What the hell is going on? How can I, Ollie, have a three way problem with women? Me, when I’ve had so few girlfriends to speak of. It never rains, it pours, I guess.

I turn over to face Lauren. She lies on her back, eyes still closed. I watch her breasts move up and down under the sheet. She is so lovely to look at. I stroke her hair slowly and kiss her forehead. An eye opens, quickly followed by a smile and a stretch.

‘Morning,’ I say. She pulls the sheet up over her mouth.

‘Morning,’ she replies in a muffled voice. I frown, unsure what she’s doing. ‘Bad breath,’ she says. I smile, pull the cover away and kiss her lips. Closing her eyes, she allows herself to be taken by the moment. I join her, relishing the feeling.

‘Did you sleep okay?’ I ask.

‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ she says, smiling.

‘What do you fancy doing today? Are you around?’ I ask. She looks at me, not saying anything. ‘What? What’s that look for?’

‘It’s just after what we said last night, not sure I’m the girl you really want.’

‘Hey, come on. That’s not what we said. I want to give this a proper go, don’t you? Don’t want to walk away without really trying?’ She rolls the covers away and gets out of bed, naked. She starts picking up pieces of clothing from the floor and pulling them on one by one.

‘Yeah, that sounds nice but when you’ve tried as much as I have, you end up deciding not to sit around waiting while the guy figures out whether or not he wants to be with you.’

‘That’s a bit unfair. I said I didn’t want to be anything other than honest,’ I say. She pulls on her dress and shakes it down.

‘I get that Ollie. Really. It’s just…I don’t know,’ she says, irritated.

‘Where’s all this come from? Last night-’

‘Last night we were drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing. Today I can see what’s going on.’

‘Yeah? What is going on?’ I ask, glancing at her dress.

‘I’m going home.’

‘Come on,’ I say, touching her arm. She stops suddenly, not turning to face me. ‘Please don’t misunderstand what I was saying. I really do like you and I want to give this a go.’ She turns to face me and stares straight into my eyes.

‘I don’t know,’ she whispers, looking up and shaking her head

‘Just give it a try. That’s all. Don’t let fear destroy us before we’ve even begun.’

‘You sound like a self-help book,’ she says. A sting of hurt ripples through me. She stands and goes to the window. She pulls the curtains open and closes her eyes, letting the sun bathe her face. ‘Sorry.’ She looks over to me.

‘Don’t be,’ I reply, standing and walking over to join her. I place a hand on her shoulder. She tilts her head, touching it with her cheek. The sun shines over both of us.

‘Damnit, how can you look like that when you just got out of bed?’ I say. She turns to face me.

‘Like what?’

‘Like this. This good. Look at you. Most girls at this point in the morning look like they’ve slept in a cardboard box. You look ready for a movie premiere,’ I say. She smiles and ruffles a hand through my hair.

‘Ohh. What is it about you, Ollie Hayward?’ she asks, putting her arms around me.

‘I’m devastatingly gorgeous? My supreme personality? Good basic hygiene?’

‘Ah yes, good basic hygiene, that’s it,’ she laughs. I laugh with her and stroke her back as we embrace again. ‘So, what did you have in mind for today then?’

‘I wouldn’t say a plan has formed yet. I’d like to spend it with you,’ I say.

‘Are you working tomorrow?’ she asks.

‘Tomorrow? Uh, Sunday, nope day off again. I rule,’ I reply. She frowns, an idea forming.

‘Well, we could go to my cottage in Stroud in the Cotswolds.’

‘Wait a minute, you have a pad in the Cotswolds?’

‘Yeah, used to be my parent’s house but it’s mine now.’

‘Holy shit, what the hell are we still standing here for?’

I pack a bag quickly as Lauren undresses and showers. I check in on Ashley in the living room. She’s still asleep. She’ll be okay, we can talk when I get back…from my night away! How cool is this, the girl I’m seeing owns another property. Not that I’ve seen her first place yet but what the hell. She owns two houses! That is definitely a pro. Once we’re both dressed and ready (Lauren takes an hour to get ready, I’m not kidding, an hour!) we head out to her car. She owns a lovely white Porsche.

‘This yours?’

‘You’re putting your stuff into it, aren’t you?’ she replies.

‘Yeah, I guess. Nice car,’ I say.

‘Thanks.’

We get in and she starts it up. Revving far more than is necessary, we head out of my driveway, through Clapham and down the A3, towards the M25. She drives aggressively, which surprises me. We get way too close to cars in front before she pulls out to overtake them. I figure, as it’s her car and she’s driving I probably shouldn’t criticise but I’m tense as we narrowly avoid causing another mass pile up. I try not to scratch the dashboard with my fingernails and suppress the urge to scream like a cheerleader. I glance down at the radio and turn it on to take the temperature down a notch. Radio One, as good as any. Bit of Rhianna, nice.

‘You think she’s fit?’ Lauren asks me.

‘Who, Rhianna?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah, I guess. Not as fit as you,’ I say. Lauren rolls her eyes, immediately seeing through my pacification. We drive on, the motorway climbing and winding westwards.

‘So, you said your parents used to own this house?’ I say.

‘Yeah,’ she says, tensing.

‘So, do they live somewhere else now or...?’ I say. She glances at me and shakes her head.

‘Nah, they’re dead now.’

‘Oh, sorry,’ I say. She shrugs.

‘At least I got the house, right?’ She says it as a half-hearted joke but doesn’t feel quite right. Suddenly we sit with only Radio One between us. ‘Sorry. Not sure why I said it like that. Sounds like I don’t give a shit. I do. Just…not easy to talk about.’

‘Sure. I understand.’

‘Anyway…have you ever been up this way before?’

‘Cotswolds? Nope, never.’

‘Good. I think you’ll like it,’ she says. I glance at her as subtly as I can. I notice her swallow and clear her throat. I look back to the road.

We arrive in Stroud around lunchtime. There are so many coaches. That is all I will say. Many, many coaches. Lots of people with bum bags. We drive along London Road then out to Slad Road and into proper countryside.

‘You slad,’ Lauren says, smiling at the road sign.

‘That’s outrageous. You’re the slad.’

‘No, you’re a slad. A big, giant slad.’ We chuckle at the joke. I look out, watching rolling fields and farmland race past (I use race because we are flying). She obviously knows these roads but…that’s a blind corner. Slow down, Christ, what’s she looking for, a chequered flag? I claw back a whimper, tighten my arse and hold on to the door with both hands.

‘Sorry, not used to coming here with someone else in the car,’ she replies. Turns out, my whimper was out loud.

After a couple of minutes, we slow down and she indicates right. We turn and head down a gravel drive. We arrive at a Cotswold stone house, and I mean house. When someone says cottage to me, I have this quaint idea of something small with low head clearance and maybe a thatched roof. This is more like a forever home. We pull around and park in front of a wooden garage door. We get out of the car and I stare at the house in front of us, sunbeams coating it in a glorious yellow light.

‘This is your cottage?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, well…yeah.’

‘More like a stately home,’ I say. She chuckles.

‘Come on, it’s not that big,’ she replies. I gawp at the stone pathway leading to the front door, the white wooden shutters covering the windows and the abundance of lavender and bees.

‘I mean, Jesus,’ I say, my mouth unable to close. She smiles.

‘Grab your bag and we’ll go in. Assuming I can find my keys,’ she says, riffling through her handbag. I pull my bag out of the Porsche and throw it over my shoulder. I look out at the absurdly stunning view before me. Sheep dot a landscape of patchwork hills and in the distance there’s a small forest. She probably owns that as well. You can see for miles. I try to process as much of it as I can before-

‘Ah here we go. Ready?’ she asks.

‘Yeah,’ I say, following her along the path to the front door. She inserts a large key into the lock and opens the door.

Inside, a hallway leads to a simple dining room with a wooden table and four chairs. To the right is a large kitchen with separate bar area. To the left is what looks like a spacious living room. Except the shutters are closed so I can’t make out the detail.

‘I’ll open the shutters round the back, you…just stand there and look good,’ Lauren says.

‘What, like this?’ I reply, striking a hands-on-hips superhero pose. She laughs. ‘Or…this,’ I say, placing my fingers on my chin in an accentuated thinking pose.

‘Very good, yes, stay like that,’ she says and disappears around the corner. I hear a door unlock and open. I notice some photos on the wall. Two middle-aged people smiling into the camera. Parents perhaps? I hear the shutters creak open and light suddenly fills the living room. It’s a stunning room with wood beams running the length of the ceiling. There are two large sofas and a table in the centre. I note the lack of TV. But the piece de resistance is the concertina doors which open out onto quite possibly the most stunning garden and view I have ever seen. Lavender and roses wherever you look. Then a lawn that drops away to reveal the great British countryside. I stand in awe.