Killing Me Softly Read Online Free PDF Page B

One hour, two hours. Jake always said that I can’t relax for long, can’t stay still, can’t stay silent. Now we barely spoke. We touched. Rested. Looked at each other. I lay and listened to the sounds of voices and cars in the street below. My body felt thin and peeled under his hands. Finally I said I had to go. I showered and then dressed while he watched me. It made me shiver.
    ‘Give me your number,’ he said.
    I shook my head. ‘Give me yours.’
    I leaned over and kissed him gently. He put a hand on my hand and pulled my head down. I felt an ache in my chest so that I could hardly breathe, but I shook him off. ‘Must go,’ I whispered.
    It was after midnight. When I let myself into the flat, it was dark. Jake had gone to bed. I tiptoed into the bathroom. I put my knickers and tights into the washbag. I had a shower for the second time in an hour. The fourth time that day. I washed my body again in my own soap. I washed my hair in my own shampoo. I crawled into the bed beside Jake. He turned and mumbled something.
    ‘Me you too,’ I said.

Four
    Jake woke me up with my tea. He sat on the edge of the bed in his towelling robe and smoothed my hair back from my forehead while I surfaced from sleep. I stared at him, and memory flooded back, disastrous and overpowering. My lips felt sore and puffy; my body ached. Surely he could tell, just by looking at me. I pulled the sheet up to my chin and smiled at him.
    ‘You look lovely this morning,’ he said. ‘Have you any idea what time it is?’
    I shook my head.
    He looked theatrically at his watch. ‘Nearly eleven thirty. Lucky it’s the weekend. What time did you get in last night?’
    ‘Midnight. Maybe a bit later.’
    ‘They’re working you too hard,’ he said. ‘Drink up. Lunch at my parents’, remember?’
    I hadn’t remembered. Only my body seemed to have a memory now: Adam’s hands on my breasts, Adam’s lips at my throat, Adam’s eyes staring into mine. Jake smiled at me and rubbed my neck, and there I lay, sick with desire for another man. I picked up Jake’s hand and kissed it. ‘You’re a nice man,’ I said.
    He pulled a face. ‘Nice?’ He leaned down and kissed me on the lips, and I felt as if I was betraying someone. Jake? Adam?
    ‘Shall I run you a bath?’
    ‘That’d be lovely.’
    I poured a stream of lemon bath oil into the water, and washed myself in it all over again, as if I could wash away what had happened. I hadn’t eaten anything yesterday, but the thought of food was horrible. I closed my eyes and lay in the hot, deep, fragrant water and let myself think of Adam. I must never, ever see him again, that was clear. I loved Jake. I liked my life. I had behaved appallingly and I would lose everything. I must see him again, at once. Nothing else mattered except for the touch of his hands, the ache of my flesh, the way he said my name. I would see him once, just once, to tell him it was over. I owed him that at least. What rubbish. I was lying to myself as well as to Jake. If I saw him, looked again into his beautiful face, I would fuck him. No, the only thing to do was just turn away from everything that had happened yesterday. Concentrate on Jake; work. But just one more time, a last time.
    ‘Ten minutes, Alice. All right?’
    The sound of Jake’s voice brought me to my senses. Of course I was going to stay with him. We’d get married, maybe, and have children and one day this would be a memory, one of those ridiculous things one had done once before growing up. I sluiced myself down one last time, watching the bubbles stream off a body that suddenly seemed strange to me. Then I climbed out of the bath. Jake held out a towel. I was aware of his eyes on me as I dried.
    ‘Perhaps we can be a bit late, after all,’ he said. ‘Come here.’
    So I let Jake make love to me, and tell me that he loved me, and I lay under him damp and acquiescent. I groaned with pretended pleasure, and he didn’t know, he couldn’t tell. It