The List (18 page)

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Authors: Joanna Bolouri

BOOK: The List
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‘Which couple?' I asked through a mouthful of cereal, now not sure whether I had the balls to go through with this.

‘Sue and Duncan. The good-looking ones. Let's just do it. I'll message them back.'

Holy shit! This is happening.

Oliver came over around six and showered while I got ready in my bedroom. ‘Does this skirt look all right?' I asked, walking into the bathroom. ‘I think it's a bit short.'

‘Nah, it's great. You're quite dressy. I'm just wearing a granddad top and jeans.'

‘No one cares what you wear. You're a boy,' I replied, smoothing my skirt over my tummy.

‘Nervous?' he smiled.

‘Totally. But eager to tackle another challenge. I even did an enema, y'know. In case.'

‘Too much information. Now piss off and let me wash.'

By seven Oliver and I were ready to go. We got in the car and managed to drive to the end of the road before he got a text:

Sue's being a psycho. 2nite's off. Sorry.

‘Oh, that's just brilliant!' I shouted, throwing my hands in the air ‘Fucking time-wasters.'

Oliver put his hand on my lap and started to turn the car around. ‘I was looking forward to that. Fuck ‘em. We'll find someone else.'

We plodded back home, feeling very disappointed, and sulked in front of the telly. It's now eleven, Oliver's asleep on the other couch and I'm finishing off a bottle of wine. Earlier he told me that splitting up with Alex was the best thing I had ever done; for both of us.

How right he is. If I was still with Alex, I'd be asleep and he'd probably be sitting at the dining-room table marking off my calls on the phone bill with a highlighter.

Sunday May 15th

I woke up with Oliver's arm around me and his hairy leg over mine. He must have crept in beside me during the night. The sound of his mobile beeping made him stir.

‘I'm exhausted,' he mumbled. ‘Can I just stay here and sleep today?'

‘Yeah. Lucy's coming over for chilli later but I have nothing on until then.'

‘You have nothing on now,' he whispered, moving his hand down my body. ‘Can I come for dinner too?'

‘Sure.'

‘Good, and now you can stay in bed with me.' He moved his hand on to my breast.

‘Hold that thought. I need to pee.'

While I was in the bathroom, I heard Oliver shout from
the bedroom: ‘It was a text from Sue and Duncan apologizing. They've invited us back next weekend.'

‘They can bugger off.'

‘Don't be so hasty. You still want to do this challenge, yeah?'

I ran back into bed and pulled the covers over me. ‘Of course, I just don't like being messed around. I'll think about it. Also, Sue might be horrendous. I'm wary now.'

He pulled me in towards him and started kissing my neck. ‘Enough talk. Move your ass up a little.'

He slipped inside me and held me close and we had very sleepy, slow morning sex. When I came, I felt it everywhere.

Lucy arrived at half five for dinner, holding a bunch of lilies and three bottles of ready-to-drink margarita mix. Oliver went to fetch the tequila and some glasses and I took her coat.

‘I hope I'm not interrupting anything,' she said, smiling, ‘and I hope you've washed your hands—'

‘Stop making mischief.' I scowled. ‘Sit yourself down; dinner's ready.'

I carried through my massive white serving dish filled with chilli, which took up most of the space on my tiny table. ‘This is yummy,' said Lucy. ‘My chilli is terrible.'

‘There's a shocker,' teased Oliver.

‘Oh, behave. You two look like you're going to collapse from exhaustion. I take it “the list” is going well?'

‘Great.' Oliver grinned. ‘Wouldn't you agree, Phoebe?'

I nodded. ‘I think this is the first time anyone's asked us both about it. How odd.'

‘Well, I did help you come up with some of the challenges,' said Lucy. ‘What are you doing now?'

‘Foursome,' I replied solemnly, taking some more salad.

‘Phoebs isn't sure she wants to go ahead with the foursome,' laughed Oliver. ‘She's scared the woman will be the Glaswegian Aileen Wuornos.'

‘I'm not!' I laughed. ‘I'm just not sure if it'll be any good. And her own partner called her a psycho. Just sayin'.'

‘You have to do it!' exclaimed Lucy. ‘I've always wanted to know what that's like. Oliver will protect you from the bad lady.'

Oh my lord, there's actually something Lucy hasn't done! My competitive side makes me want to go ahead with this for that very reason. ‘No, I will do it. I haven't come this far just to bottle out. I'm nothing if not determined. Who wants the last taco?'

‘Me!' said Oliver, swiping it off the plate. ‘And it'll be grand. Even if it's terrible, we'll still have fun. We always do.'

‘Eurgh!' said Lucy. ‘Don't go getting all smooshy on me now. I'm still eating.'

Oliver dropped Lucy home after dinner and went back to his own place. I'm now curled up on the couch listening to the White Stripes, trying to drown out the noise of my neighbour watching television. Her cackle is piercing. She laughs like she's on fire.

Tuesday May 17th

When I was sixteen, my guidance teacher asked me what I wanted to do when I left school. I think I mumbled something about being famous, but at no point did I say that I
wanted a job that I hated with a boss who was blackmailing me for sex advice. That wouldn't even have been my back-up plan, in case the being famous idea didn't work out. Still, here I am in exactly that position and I think Frank is enjoying it more than I am.

From:
Frank McCallum

To:
Phoebe Henderson

Subject:
I hate to say it but …

You were right. We did it again and I went for it. She was obviously delighted. She gave me a terrible blow job but regardless it went very well. She's even texted me twice telling me so.

From:
Phoebe Henderson

To:
Frank McCallum

Subject:
Re: I hate to say it but …

HA! I told you so. Shame about the blow job but I'm sure you can show her where she's going wrong.

Regards,

SMUG Henderson

From:
Frank McCallum

To:
Phoebe Henderson

Subject:
Re: I hate to say it but …

Yes, yes. It appears I have something to thank you for. But you're keeping your job so I guess that's thanks enough.

From:
Phoebe Henderson

To:
Frank McCallum

Subject:
Re: I hate to say it but …

You always ruin a perfectly nice moment. I hope she bites it off.

I could hear him laughing and then my phone rang.

‘I am grateful. Really. She's charming and I'm happy.'

‘Good for you. Quite frankly you're much nicer than you used to be. She must be good for you.'

It seems my work here is done.

Friday May 20th

I must admit I'm stunned at the change in Frank – everyone is. He's most definitely calmed down. I can't remember the last time he mentioned how much he'd paid for something and he's actually funny when he isn't trying so hard to be a twat. Apparently Vanessa has given him a reason to smile and he's really into her. We spoke after work for a while and if he wasn't my boss we might have been friends. I can't believe I just said that. He wants to have one last meeting and then he promises he'll drop this. He'd better – I'm not an expert on anything, and I don't see what else I can do, his hair?

Saturday May 21st

Oliver appeared around five, a couple of hours before we were due to rendezvous with Sue and Duncan at their house
on the south side of the city. I still had reservations about the whole thing, which I vented to Oliver as I paced around my living room, waiting for it to be time to go.

‘He called her a psycho!' I said. ‘Why would we even think about this again? I'd like to do this with people who like each other and who are preferably in good mental health!'

‘The guy was denied a foursome, Phoebe – I can understand where his text rage came from,' Oliver replied from the couch. ‘It doesn't mean that she is one; she's probably very nice. For a psycho.'

‘Fine, but if she kills us both I'm blaming you.'

He turned on the television while I got ready and I stood looking into my wardrobe hoping that the perfect outfit would leap out at me. Either that or a magical world would appear and I could fuck off and have tea with a fawn instead.

Oliver popped his head round the door twenty minutes later. ‘You ready yet?'

I gave him a twirl, feeling very feminine in a flowery tea dress. ‘This do?'

‘God, you look great. I'm almost sorry I have to share you this evening.'

‘We're really going to do this then?' I asked, touching up my lipstick. ‘Shit. Let's go before I change my mind.'

We made it all the way to the house this time. They lived about a fifteen-minute drive away – a tiny red-brick bungalow with an immaculate front garden covered in gnomes. Seriously, I felt like Gulliver. I knocked on the door and held my breath. Through the frosted glass, the silhouette of a man made his way towards us. Oliver put his hand on my back and whispered, ‘Here we go.'

We were greeted by Duncan, a website designer, very tall and toned through his white T-shirt. He led us into the living room where we met the psycho, Sue, a very slim mature student who was surprisingly welcoming. She hugged us both and invited us to sit down while Duncan got some wine. I began to relax a little.

‘I'm so sorry about last time,' she said, kicking off her shoes. ‘I got a little nervous. I'm glad you agreed to meet us. I hope you don't think me rude.'

‘Oh, we understand,' I replied. ‘Don't worry, we haven't given it a second thought.'

Duncan returned with the wine and sat beside Sue. ‘Here's to an interesting evening!' he toasted.

Before long I was so lost in conversation I had forgotten why we were there, until Duncan stood up and reached out his hand towards me. Being the clued-up, suave girl that I am, I handed him my glass. He laughed, put it on the table, then took my hand and led me into the bedroom. I followed, completely lost for words and throwing Oliver an ‘Oh shit' look as we left.

The bedroom was gorgeous, all soft lighting and candles, and I was immediately reassured that at least my bodily flaws wouldn't be scrutinized by two strangers under a fluorescent bulb.

We started to kiss and undress and I didn't feel awkward at all. He absolutely knew what he was doing and I happily let him. I even put the condom on with my mouth and resisted the urge to go, ‘TA-DA!' like I'd just whipped a table cover off and the flowers were still standing. A breakthrough for me.

Then he pushed me down on to the bed and moved my legs apart with his knee. Before I knew it my legs were wrapped around him and he was gently moving inside me, asking if it was OK. It was more than OK. ‘Harder,' I replied. ‘Fuck me harder.'

The bedroom door opened and in walked Oliver and Sue, both naked, with Oliver standing behind her, his hands moving over her body as they watched us. I turned my head to see Oliver, his eyes fixed on mine. Even as he kissed Sue's neck, his gaze never left me.

Within ten minutes we were a big sweaty heap on the bed. Everyone was kissing everyone (not Duncan and Oliver unfortunately – I think that would have been hot for me and the end of Oliver) and I must say the sight of Oliver going down on Sue while I was being slammed hard by Duncan was incredible. There was a silly voice in my head narrating the whole thing as it happened, like ‘
Oh, look, now I'm kissing a lady
' and ‘
Oh, look, now there's two erections pointing directly at me like divining rods
' but I carried on, determined not to let a small thing like my own weird internal monologue come between me and hot swinging sex.

The next thing that happened will remain lodged in the filthy part of my memory forever. Duncan lay down on the bed and I climbed on top of him as gracefully as my clumsy nature would allow. We started to have sex and I noticed Oliver walking behind me and heard the noise of the condom wrapper being torn. The next thing I knew he was fingering my ass and then he was inside me and I couldn't move. Or speak. Or breathe. Sue then started to kiss me. Oh yes, I was the Queen of the Foursome and it was the most
mind-blowing thing I've ever experienced. Completely overwhelming, sometimes uncomfortable, but I didn't feel panicked, or violated, which I had feared I might. Then I got to watch as they both screwed Sue and came on her.

We drove home giggling and very pleased with ourselves. Even laid-back Oliver was shocked at how well things had turned out. ‘That could have been a disaster!' he laughed as he put on a CD.

‘Very true. They could have been mental, or killed us, or EVEN WORSE, just been really crap in bed. Oh God, not Radiohead, Oliver, that's hardly going to keep us in high spirits.'

‘Did you like it when I—'

I immediately interrupted. ‘Put it this way – that will be top of my shower-nozzle masturbation fantasies for a long time to come.'

He smiled at me and we drove the rest of the way back in triumphant silence. Another challenge complete. I win at this.

Sunday May 22nd

I left Oliver's place and made my way to Central station this afternoon, only to discover my train had been cancelled but I was in such a good mood I didn't give two hoots. I decided to wait in the station bar and have a quick coffee when I received the worst compliment ever from two neds:

Ned 1
: ‘She looks like Katy Perry.'

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