Helen Bain Extract from What Elspeth Did
H
e sat at the kitchen table, watching her. She wore his shirt over bare legs, her mascara had smudged below her eyes. After lunch, in the rush of that second whisky and wanting to get her into bed, it had seemed a wonderful idea for them to come back here. James topped up his glass again. “What’s this masterpiece?” he said. “Squid and chorizo stew,” Alex said, leaning across the table to take his cigarette. The thought of squid brought a twinge of nausea – a harbinger of tomorrow’s atrocities. He whipped the cigarette back and took a drag to quell it. “Hey!” she said. She moved around the table and tried to awkwardly straddle his lap, one bare leg on either side of his, as if she were Christine Keeler and he were the chair. “I thought you were meant to be cooking,” he said, tipping her off in what he hoped was a playful manner. It was beginning to dawn on him that he wouldn’t be able to drive her home and he couldn’t very well ask her to get a cab. “What else are we having?” “This,” she said, unbuttoning the shirt a little further, striking a pose against the fridge. He laughed, almost against his will. “Come on then,” he said, pushing his chair back. “While the stew is stewing…” He caught her wrists and she screamed playfully. “Stop it!” she squealed. “Your phone went! No, I heard it.” “Saved by the bell,” he said, releasing her. The hall was cold and dark. His jacket was on the hall table, the phone in its pocket. He opened the message. Tell Els she left her black
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helen bain
