Don't Let Me In by Phil Kurthausen

Author:Phil Kurthausen [Kurthausen, Phil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2018-10-21T16:00:00+00:00

* (This is a lie. Of course Mo got hold of them, but I’m classifying it as a white lie in order to avoid being sued and/or getting Mo convicted as I didn’t ask him where he got them from. Ignorance is bliss, or rather not going to jail.)

19

Knocks Once

I’m expecting at the very least another cease and desist letter from Tom’s lawyers but in the days following the podcast nothing arrives.

Despite this I feel a weight of anxiety settle on me over and above my normal, admittedly high, levels. It feels like the phoney war and I’m just waiting for something awful to happen. But as each day passes nothing does, and by the end of the week I’m feeling better and it’s not just the non-arrival of the terrible thing. Something good, well I know I should think it is good, happens instead.

Henry and I sleep together for the first time since the rape.

I’m still not sure how it happened but I am sure that the location of it was important. It didn’t happen in the bedroom and now I see it never could; we’ve imbued that room, our bed, with too much tension and defeated expectation night after night with our backs turned to each other. There was no way we could learn to overcome that barrier that was made physical in the goose-down wall that separated us.

Instead, and I’m unsure whether this is DH Lawrence romantic or more cheesy wah wah porn, we fucked on the washing machine in the utility room.

Finn was out on a play date and after returning from dropping him off I heard Henry come into the kitchen and drop his keys on the worktop, and I remember thinking why can’t he use the bowl I bought just for this purpose and left right by the front door on the hall table? And then he walked into the utility room and I said, “How was it?” but I didn’t turn around to say this and maybe that was the key. He didn’t have to look at me.

He mumbled something low that I didn’t catch and then before I registered what was happening he put a hand around my clavicle, his fingers stretching and digging into my neck, and pulled down my tracksuit pants with his other hand and then he had unzipped his pants and I could feel his cock banging against my bare arse.

I put my right arm forward against the wall and shoved backwards, drawing him in to me, and then he was holding me tight, almost painfully so, but I liked it, deserved it, and he was thrusting furiously and then, a few seconds later, it was over.

I turned round, planning to kiss him, but he was pulling up his pants and shuffling backwards.

“I liked that,” I said and smiled at him.

He didn’t look up at me and mumbled something about “needing to do some work” and turned and left the room.

I should have felt deflated, I know. Used for sex.

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