No names have been changed. There are no innocents.
***
I guess nowadays I'd call Danny a fuckbuddy, or friends with benefits. I don't think we'd invented either of those terms back around 2005. But we'd been pals since uni and often went to gigs together. On a few occasions we had sort of fallen in to bed at the end of the night, but I don't think there had ever been a time when we were both single at the same time so there had always been a dash of forbidden fruit about it, every time we'd got naked was naughtier than it should have been.
This Thursday evening we'd had no excuse to get drunk, we somehow found ourselves in a grotty pub close to my house, drinking cheap beer & playing pool (badly) on the rota with the regulars. Some sleazy old men had been trying to chat me up "Hey doll is this your boyfriend? No? Can I have the job then? What's that, you're a lesbian? No way, can I watch?" and so on. All good harmless fun. As usual, I was enjoying the attention, aware that the t-shirt I was wearing was very loose around the neck so that every time I leaned forward to play a shot, there were guys opposite craning to try to look down my cleavage just for a glimpse of titty. Would have been mean to deprive them.
After a while I was playing at the table & I realised Danny was getting chatted up by an older woman, they were sharing jokes and giggling together. Now Danny was not my boyfriend. I'm not usually the jealous type, but I don't know, something about this put my nose out of joint. I think I had quite enjoyed being the centre of attention, being the one getting chatted up, and when I realised he was now all but ignoring me I felt a flush of indignation. I lo. st the game & went over to join them.
"Oh hi Sindy. This is.. .sorry what did you say, Ellen? Helen? Helen. This is Helen. Helen this is Sindy."
I smiled with as much warmth as I could manage and joined in the conversation. Helen was a good bit older than us, probably somewhere North of 40. She had slightly greying hair, pulled back into a pony tail, and was wearing a cheap tigerprint blouse over a large, soft, mature womanly figure, not exactly fat but carrying enough pounds that her every time she moved another bit of pale flesh would make a break for freedom from some corner or other. She had a broad Newcastle accent, somehow a couple of hundred miles out of place. We drank and made stupid jokes until after last orders had been called.
Danny did not even check with me first, he just announced "Sindy's place is just round the corner. We have some beer & weed there. Want to come back?" It was a bit cheeky but that was the way we rolled back then & I would probably have done the same to him.
Jump forward an hour.
We were all pretty wrecked by this point. There was a lull in the conversation. Helen looked at me. "Is it true what you said, back in the pub? Are you really a lesbian?"