Filling up Stephen Smythe

Stephen Smythe

Filling Up

Kim lost her virginity, aged twenty-six, in a vegetarian B & B. Afterwards, as she lay there, Rob with his back to her, she concluded it hadn’t been worth missing breakfast for. Kim had been ill with ME for several years and attended university when she was strong enough. She met Rob during Fresher’s Week. He was a mature student too, and also a virgin. They both lived in shared houses. Whenever they were alone in either of their rooms, she’d start to kiss him, but he’d stop her whenever he heard a noise from the stairs, or landing. There were always noises. ‘Let’s go away,’ Kim said. ‘W– why?’ ‘Why do you think?’ While he wavered, she booked a room with a North Sea view. When they checked in, the November rain was torrential. The night was a washout. In the morning, she woke up hungry and so did he – only he didn’t want a fry up. Her pleasant surprise was short-lived. There was to be no seconds. After that, things went back to how they were. Soon, Rob was making excuses why he couldn’t see her. With Christmas only a week away, Rob, red-faced and stammering, said it was best they ended things. He couldn’t say why. She couldn’t stop crying. That New Year’s Eve, Kim went alone to the same B&B. She put on her party frock, got drunk on fizzy wine, jived with pensioner guests, and in the morning devoured the Linda McCartney Full English.