He invited her inside; she felt herself blushing. Joel said something about the girls being out. They exchanged some awkward small talk as she followed him down the hall and into the kitchen. Her heart was pounding; the lights were too bright and she felt like she’d taken a pill. Sinead sat down by the kitchen table, trying not to fidget as Joel poured Shiraz into two glasses.
‘I can text Imogen, if you like. Find out which pub they’re in.’ Joel set glasses down on the table. Sinead intertwined her fingers to stop her hands from trembling.
‘That’s okay, I’ll try Heidi in a minute. I thought they’d all be in on a Monday night. But it’s a bank holiday, though, isn’t it? Yeah. I guess I should’ve called first. Don’t know what I was thinking…’ She was babbling.
Joel pulled out a chair and placed it close to Sinead. She looked around the room to avoid meeting his eye. ‘Feels weird being back here. You know, just as a visitor rather than… Has anyone taken my room yet?’
‘Some girl’s moving in at the weekend.’
‘Oh yeah? Cool. Is she nice? What does she do?’
‘She seems all right, said she works in PR… or HR. Whatever, something boring.’ Joel raised the glass to his lips and sipped some wine. ‘How’s your new place working out then?’
‘Good, yeah. Really nice. Beckenham’s a bit quieter than Catford. It’s great, though. I love it. The landlord goes away on business quite a bit, so I get the house all to myself.’
‘Must get lonely.’
Sinead felt something brush against her thigh; she looked down and saw Joel’s knee. Was that an accident? She gulped back some Shiraz. His knee stayed pressed against her leg. She felt a magnetic field pulsing between their touching bodies. Her eyes moved up to his face. He was staring at her now. She knew what that look meant. Sinead almost blurted out, Is it just me or is it really hot in here? but bit her tongue and stood up.
Sinead walked away from the table and attempted to casually sip her wine. She felt Joel’s eyes on her body. Thirty seconds had gone by since either of them had spoken. She sauntered over to the fridge. This was getting intense. She should make her excuses and leave. Just finish your drink, tell him it was nice to see you, say hi to the girls for me – and then go! Get out Sinead!
But she couldn’t. Sinead was looking at the photographs stuck to the fridge with magnets. Something was different. They’d been rearranged. But what else? It took a moment for the penny to drop. None of the photos featured her. They’d all been taken down.
She heard a scrape of chair legs on lino. Her heart was pounding like an eighties beatbox. The hairs on the back of Sinead’s neck tingled as Joel sidled up behind her. She stood there, trance-like, staring at the fridge photos. It was as if she’d actually been deleted from their memories. Most of the missing pictures were taken with her old film camera, the one she used in the university photography club. She was the only one who had bothered to get photos printed; everyone else’s were just kept on phones or uploaded to Instagram. But she’d developed and printed those ones because they were a visual reminder of how much they meant to one another.
‘There’s no trace of me. It’s like I never even lived here,’ she whispered.
Joel moved closer and she felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck. He whispered in Sinead’s ear, ‘But you just couldn’t stay away. Could you…?’
She turned round, lifted her head and met his gaze. It was actually happening. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth. His hands brushed her hips. Sinead lunged at Joel, her lips locking onto his: passionate, urgent kissing as he pushed her up against the fridge, hands fondling her breasts. Sinead flung her arms around his back and thrust her hips against his crotch. The wineglass dropped from her hand and smashed onto the floor, making her jump. Joel looked down at the broken pieces and laughed, sweeping them away with his foot.
Clutching her waist, he manoeuvred Sinead over to the countertop. She clasped the back of his head, yanking his hair through her fingers. He opened her denim jacket, pawed at her blouse, popping open the buttons and kissing her cleavage. Sinead held his head, running her fingers through his hair. He smooched up her neck and Sinead started moaning. Suddenly Joel grabbed her hips. He turned her round and smacked her bum. Sinead was pinned up against the work surface, hands gripping the Formica edge. Joel lifted her skirt. Sinead gasped. With one hand, he pushed her torso down on top of the counter.
She heard his fly unzipping; Joel was pulling down his jeans. This was it now. The moment she’d secretly fantasised about so many times. Her foot crunched down on a piece of broken glass. An alarm bell was ringing in the recess of her mind.
‘Joel… wait.’
Sinead pushed herself away from the counter and spun round to face him. She held his jaw with both hands and kissed him hard. Showing him she was in charge before she broke away and stared into his eyes.
‘Not like this,’ Sinead said. He was forcing his hand down, trying to part her legs. She resisted him.
Joel kissed her neck. ‘I know why you came back.’
Surrendering to incredible sensations, Sinead closed her eyes. It had been so long since she’d been touched, since she’d felt another human being. She wanted him, more than anyone, ever. Except something kept bothering her; a quiet voice deep inside was speaking, but she hadn’t been listening.
Joel’s fingers were gliding up her inner thigh.
‘Do you want me, Joel? Say it, Joel… Tell me you want me.’
‘Yeah, I fucking want you.’
Sinead opened her eyes. His jeans were bunched up below his knees; he was trying to get his trunks down; his erect cock bulging through the material. She had to say it now–
‘Break up with Imogen.’
Joel’s hand was halfway down his trunks. He squinted and shook his head, as if confused. He looked at her, quizzically. Sinead nodded. Joel’s face changed subtly, like a mask slipping.
‘We’re just having some fun, right? No strings.’
‘I won’t share you. If you want me, if you want to be with me–’
Joel cackled. Sinead recoiled. He was laughing at her.
‘Be with you – what does that mean?’ Joel sneered. ‘I thought you wanted a fuck.’
Sinead glared at Joel and shoved him away from her. He stumbled back, yanking up his jeans.
‘For fuck’s sake!’ He zipped up his fly. ‘You got me all worked up for nothing.’
Sinead readjusted her skirt. Passion was morphing into rage. ‘Seriously? What do you think I am?’
‘Well…’ Joel’s lewd expression said it all – a slut. That’s all she was to him. Sinead slapped him across the cheek, hard enough to turn his head. She retreated to the other side of the fridge. He rubbed the back of a hand across his face. Slowly he turned and looked at her with derision.
‘I can’t believe I didn’t see it before,’ Joel said. ‘The girls are right. You are crazy!’
Sinead’s head jerked back. His words – their words – hit hard, deep in her soul. She could hardly breathe. Smirking at her, Joel took a hairband off his wrist, scraped back his locks and tied them up on top. Sinead felt dizzy. She wanted to scream at Joel, to attack him, but her throat was constricted, her limbs hollow.
Panic took hold. She bolted from the kitchen, into the hallway and out of the house, running from the worst mistake of her life.
17