The Lies Between Us

‘Rick… wait.’ I put my hand on his.

He groaned. ‘What?’

‘You will still… I mean you don’t think I’m…’

He kissed my neck and his hand continued upwards.

‘I don’t think anything. I can’t think. You’re driving me mad, girl.’

‘But what about –’

‘I’ll be careful,’ he said, as his hand found its target. ‘Don’t worry.’

And I was lost.

It seems crazy now, from a distance of thirty years, to think that I would trust him. His parents were never there – he only asked me round when they were guaranteed to be out, with mine fondly believing I was having a nice family tea. Each time, we drank too much and played his records and then went up to his bedroom. We did use contraception. Mostly. Apart from that first time. And the day he didn’t have any. And then again when he said, please let me, it’s better without, I’ll pull out in time.

Nothing changed otherwise. I was still left wondering when we’d see each other again, and more and more it was just to go to his house for sex. At work he never openly acknowledged that I was his girlfriend.

Call me stupid. I have.

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