Saturday, 2 October 2010

A date with Beatrix

Drinks and food with Beatrix on Wednesday. I am delayed, although I still stop to put on mascara and lipstick, and turn up late in pouring rain. She is sheltering in a very small doorway with an umbrella that is actually a sunshade and doesn't keep out water.

In the bar we share a chaise longue. I've always associated them with sex. As a teenager I had a series of fantasies about being seduced by an older couple which were inspired by an older friend's chaise longue. This one has been covered in leatherette. It's overstuffed and bouncy, like perching on a taxi seat. It's not possible to lounge against each other, or even to touch.

Maybe this is why our conversation feels flat and superficial. We have a getting to know more about you talk, in which we swap many details of our lives but nothing important. I admire the little wings of liquid eyeliner that Beatrix always has. I tell her that I can't get the hang of it. Beatrix says that she just does it automatically now and doesn't care that she always gets them a bit uneven but feels better for wearing it.

I don't need to bond in this dry, companiable way. What I want to say is how it is part of Beatrix's mystique for me that she wears liquid eyeliner. That it was one of the first things I noticed about her look and that those tiny angled wings symbolise a particular type of femininity that she embodies and I do not.

We finish the evening at home. Virgil is away working. Earlier he made a point of asking me not to reveal to Beatrix that he is staying in a Travelodge.

"I have some pride," he says.

Beatrix tells me that when she goes away on work she often stays in such places, and even in people's spare rooms, but I don't tell.

We kiss on the sofa. I love the feeling of her body and her small waist, but I'm tired and anyway I know that I am not going to take her to bed tonight. From her kiss she seems to be holding back and waiting. Virgil has said I can. Beatrix has said she would like it. I would too, but not yet. Instead I tell Beatrix that we must have her over really soon. I hope that is enough for her and that she won't change her mind.

It's still raining outside. I call her a cab.


  1. Don't keep us hanging. I want to hear more.

  2. I promise to keep you posted! We've got a date with her next week. In the meantime there have been other encounters...