out - doctors of madness

last night was quite a test. saturday night, crowded pubs and tam's new friend stella is a smoker. which led to her going for several cigarettes during the course of the night. which of course, led to tam enquiring why i wasn't. while i white-knuckled the edge of the table.

i gritted my teeth and smiled, rather than plunge my glass into his neck. it was the first time i'd met stella - and you never get a second chance to make a first impression.

a major problem with stopping smoking is the not knowing what to do with your hands. in the house, my first impulse is to pick at food - crisps, sweets, chocolates. in the pub, it makes me drink faster. without those trips outside to punctuate the drinking, they go down faster than usual. and hit harder than usual.

still, i didn't weaken. i was tempted, but remained firm and unyielding. even when she offered me one. both times, in fact.

you know those subbie-girls you always meet who're really cheeky and bratty? the ones that're always pushing their Dom/me for the sake of being punished..? that's what she was like - one of them. but it didn't just stop at tam - oh no. she was rude, flippant, offhand with everybody. from the woman who came round selling the left wing newspapers to me. she was sarcastic, lippy and begging for attention. And very, very funny. Infectiously so. I liked her from the off.

and tam seems smitten. good for him.

he's been on his own for a couple of years, longer than that. three or four. when i met him, he was just splitting up with - what was her name?

tell the truth, i thought they were a pair of arseholes on first meeting. they turned up at one of Eddie & Sheena's parties. i think i mentioned Them a few days back.

at first glance, tam was this neurotic, really queeny Dom. he even had the moustache in those days. and the poncey wee uber-waistcoat. and the bob the builder utility belt. her, i didn't pay a lot of attention to, really.

both rabid anti-smokers, though. they got all politically correct at someone for mentioning bill hicks. talk about right on!

it's funny, thinking about tam as he used to be!

so, anyway. this stella seems all right. in small doses, anyway. tam invited me back to his. in the sort of tone-of-voice that says clearly, fucking don't say yes. i hopped in a taxi and was home for midnight.

i woke up about eight. with somebody else's hangover. this happens from time to time. i go out, have two, three pints and wake up the next day at death's door.

i wasn't going back to sleep, so i drank tea until i could face my first coffee of the day. lay in the dark, waiting for it to pass. around ten-thirty, my phone buzzed from my pocket. i left it, partly because i felt rough, but mostly because i thought it was tam, demanding my report on stella.

it was just gone eleven when i consulted the phone and discovered that the text was from Her!

i texted Her back at once, feigning a long lie and enquiring how She'd slept.

Her next text surprised me. it was the name of a pub by the waterfront. and a time - one thirty. an invite to lunch!

i shaved under the shower and climbed into some fresh clothes (without worrying too much about what She'd prefer me dressed up in)...

i scrambled for the ten-to-twelve bus, (which showed almost on time) and was uptown for half twelve. guaranteed, if i'd gone for the twenty past bus, i'd have had a no show!

i killed time in a couple of shops, (picked up the dvd of "born to boogie" for eight quid!) and was in the right pub, at the bar, scanning round the tables by one-fifteen.

She arrived around twenty-five past, in a severe suit that made everybody else in the bar look shabby by comparison.

on the downside, i started to feel badly underdressed, too. i got to my feet, pushed it away and waved to Her. smiling, She approached the table and i leapt to hold Her chair out for Her.

over lunch, She detailed Her itinerary. there would be shopping, my opinion would be asked for on specific items and at all other times, i was to keep my mouth shut.

we finished eating. She left me at the table and strolled outside for a cigarette. on Her return, She pointed at the long counter and mouthed the word "americano". we passed as i scrambled for the counter.

it took an age. when i glanced round, She had Her back to me. She looked relaxed, Her shoulders drooping slightly.

we drank our coffees mostly in silence. when She was ready, She took out a cigarette from the pack on the table and slipped the pack into Her bag.

outside, She lit it with a purple clipper and turned to me.

"i think you deserve one, don't you?" i stammered out that i'd stopped and She turned to look directly into my face.

there was a long moment. She blew smoke into my face.

"how long?"

"that's three days." i told Her and She nodded.

after a moment or two, She turned and walked on.

the first place we stopped at was a shoe shop. one of those three floors of basically the same half dozen or so examples of footwear, minute variations in every imaginable size and colour.

and She was like a kid in a candy-shop. rushing from aisle to aisle, Her eyes alight from the inside out, Her breath rushed and ragged. i don't know how long we stayed there.

at the register, She paid in cash. i reached in and lifted the bag containing the box containing whatever it was She'd bought. they weren't heavy anyway and i followed Her back through the shop, where She paused no more than twice to examine things She hadn't bought.

outside, She was smiling and i may have imagined it, but She seemed slightly flushed in Her face and neck.

Her lips pecked me on the cheek and She was pointing across the road, mouthing something and She was off, zig-zagging through the traffic that crawled into and out of the city centre.

my afternoon slid by in a blur. shops, more bags to carry and every time, She paid in cash.

i tried to monitor the passage of time as we passed through a thousand of these emporia, through an ocean of office workers burning up their two-day passes. clocks' faces sliding inexorably towards five. curtains. game over, player two.

soon, we were turned away from somewhere selling even more of the same shoes and She glanced quickly at Her watch. She turned, took a step towards me and whispered something i didn't quite catch, but on reflection, sounded a bit like "you follow me." i moved through the crowds in Her wake, trying to keep up with Her at Her unladen speed.

Her car was parked on a side-street. She beeped the locks as we approached and i changed direction slightly towards the lights that had just flashed.

i wasn't sorry to drop Her hundredweight of fripperies into the boot and start flexing the feeling back into my fingers.

she put an arm around my shoulders. "you're a good boy," She said.

my reward was a meal in a pub nearby. She had fish of some sort and i had the pasta in a strong cheese and broccoli sauce. we chatted, looking for all the world like all the other couples dotted around the place.

she asked me about work, where i lived and how long i'd been in each. when i attempted to get the conversation focused on Her, She simply waved my questions away.

we sat for hours, drinking coffee, me spilling whatever guts She wanted. She flitted from point to point, grilling them all. i was hypnotised by the flash in Her eyes and the glint of Her teeth, drunk on Her smell until time crawled to a standstill, broken and pointless.

and then She was standing and so was i and i'm helping Her into Her coat and She's patting me on the cheek and i'm following Her back up those stairs and i can hear the street outside and it's turned cold, early summer night and we're outside now and She's telling me i'm a good boy and She's patting me on the cheek again and i'm by myself and She's gone into the crowds that split and rush past me.