Old Friends, Good Times

She sounded wistful and a small grin spread across her face.

'Miss Green. I'm shocked. There was I thinking you were such a nice, well-brought-up, girl.'

She took me playfully by the throat and we pretended to struggle. That was when the back door slammed open letting in a blast of cold air, a shower of rainwater and a guy in cycling gear bearing an uncanny resemblance to a drowned rat.

'Don't make another move.'

'Shut the door.'

We had both frozen, mid-tussle. Of course it was Joe, logic told me that. But this was not a Joe I remembered. Jane kept her eyes fixed on him and backed all the way to the door. It was like she was escaping a wild animal.

'No, no, no. Don't let him move an inch. I'm fetching towels and a dressing gown. Stay.'

Joe laughed when she finally made it to the door and we heard scurrying footsteps hit the stairs. He was six foot, that hadn't changed. I'd guess he was balder under his cycling helmet. He had been receding the last time we'd met. But whereas I remembered his being podgy - he preferred the term cuddly - I was faced by a lanky, well-muscled man with a stomach like a washboard. The skin-tight Lycra and close fitting rain jacket left very little to the imagination.

'You've taken up cycling.'

'No. This is more of a fashion statement.'

'And discovered a sense of humour from somewhere. I'd come and kiss you, but I'm not stupid.'

There was a spreading puddle at Joe's feet. A shriek from the door announced Jane's return. She dropped a bath towel and dressing gown over the chair next to me and grabbed kitchen towels to start mopping the puddle. Joe and I exchanged smiles over her head.

'Get out of those wet things, pronto. I'll get them in the machine straightaway.'

'What about Georgia?'

She looked from him to me before making a shocked face and slapping her hand to her forehead.

'Georgie. You must promise not to laugh when Joe takes his clothes off. It embarrasses him.'

She dodged as Joe tried to flick water from his glasses at her. I looked away - most of the time - as Joe unzipped and peeled wet clothes from his body to Jane's persistent clucking and cajoling. He was not completely bald yet, but his hair, now close-cropped, was all grey. He had striking tan lines on his biceps and thighs, proof, if any were needed, of his commitment to self-propulsion.

'Do you think his willy's got bigger over the years Georgia?'

They were both laughing. When I looked round Joe had both hands clamped over his groin.

'I'll show you mine, if you show me yours.'

I pulled open the gown to flash my boobs at him. It wasn't exactly sexy. The bra I'd chosen for my 34Cs that morning was built more for comfort than enticement. Joe sighed and dropped his hands to walk over to his partner and grab a towel from her. Of course I peeked. The plump sausage hanging over his ball sac didn't get my juices pumping either. I'd always looked on the flaccid cock as a work that needed progress; and this was neither the time nor the place. Jane and I were both giggling with the effect of the wine.

'When I came in and saw the girl-on-girl action in my own kitchen, I thought for a minute it was my lucky day. I should have guessed it'd just be another evening of you two taking the piss out of me. Just like the old days.'

He sounded really disappointed, but his smile gave away his true feelings. Jane kissed him on the lips as she helped him into his own dressing gown. I stood up and did the same. I had to stand on tiptoes to do it. His body felt hard inside the gown and I enjoyed the feeling of his arms around me for a moment before letting him go. For a second I found myself regretting he was married to my best friend.

Having a deputy head teacher in the house has its upsides. Jane started clucking like a mother hen. I was dispatched upstairs for a hot shower. She found me a pair of Joe's loungers and a T-shirt to change into. I hadn't thought to pack anything other than spare underwear. When I came back to the kitchen it was filled with the delicious aroma of beef stew. Knowing Jane, it was surely something posher and more French than that. She had opened another bottle of wine and laid places at the table for three. She was sitting on Joe's lap, her arms around his neck. They were enjoying a deep kiss.

'Ido hope I'm interrupting something.'

They were both wearing the stupid grins of the slightly tipsy and not-at-all-embarrassed.

'Georgia, thank goodness you're here. He's been drinking brandy to catch up and you know what they say?'

'Never mix the grain and the grape?'

I put on the stentorian Scottish accent with which Joe used to entertain us when we first met. He claimed those were his grandfather's parting words of wisdom to him when he left for college. Jane's tinkly laugh rang out.

'I was thinking brandy makes you randy, actually. But I guess that'll do.'

Her accent was not as good as mine. She got up and pushed Joe towards the shower and started getting out bowls and crusty French bread in preparation for the meal. It was then that the phone rang. I could hear her in the hallway sounding polite, but confused. She looked puzzled when she came back in.

'Its for you.'

'For me?'

I was more than surprised. Everyone who might need to get in touch had my mobile number. In fact, so far as I was aware, no one knew where I was, let alone have the number. Jane had obviously read my mind.

'That's what I thought. He says his name is Higginbottom and he's sorry for interrupting.'

The name rang a bell somewhere, but I couldn't place it. I took a deep breath to try and suppress the giggly wine-buzz I was enjoying and made for the door. The cold of the hallway helped me focus.

'Hello?'

'Ah, Ms Cottingham, I apologise for interrupting your afternoon, but I wanted to speak to you before the weekend if possible.'

We paused. He obviously twigged I had forgotten who he was.

'Peter Higginbottom here. We interviewed you earlier.'

'Mr Higginbottom. Peter. I do apologise. Are you still in the office. What with the dark and the weather I imagined it was much later than it obviously is. How did you find me? Why didn't you call my mobile?'

He laughed. It was the portly chief executive who had chaired the panel.

'I tried that first, of course. It seems to be switched off.'

I blushed even though there was no one there to see me.

'I am sorry. I turned it off for the interview. I must have forgotten to switch it back on.'

'No matter. I asked our reception staff if they knew where you had gone - I thought you might be incommunicado on the train - and one of them came up with this number a few minutes later.'

My wordless amazement must have conveyed itself down the line. He laughed.

'There's not much that goes on in this city that out chief greeter doesn't know about. Or know someone who does.'

It fell into place. George had asked Muhammad and he'd given them Jane's name.

'Was it something urgent?'

'Yes and no. We were very impressed with your interview.'

My heart sank and the cold hallway seemed to get suddenly chillier. It was the thanks-but-no-thanks I had more than half expected. I was more surprised at how disappointed I felt. This time Peter Higginbottom was obviously oblivious to my thoughts.

'And we wanted to offer you the job. You'll obviously want the weekend to consider our offer, but we would appreciate your response on Monday, if possible.'

It was a while before I realised he'd finished speaking.

'Ms Cottingham?'

'I accept.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'I said, I accept. I'm delighted to accept your offer.'

'You are?'

We both laughed nervously.

'You didn't strike me as a man who would find it hard to takeyes as an answer.'

'Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm delighted. Just a little surprised at the speed of your response. You'll be leaving London and all.'

'Exactly.'

My mind had been racing with excitement at the thought of a fresh start.

'If I get my resignation in on Monday - before the Xmas break - I'll have served more or less a fortnight of my three months notice by the time everything opens up again in the new year.'

'Good. Well in that case, could I invite you to lunch tomorrow? We could discuss salary, perks, that sort of thing. I'd also appreciate following up on some of the ideas you mentioned in your interview. Interesting, very interesting. Send shockwaves through the old guard, of course. But I'm sure we could all do with a shake-up.'

We agreed to meet at the council offices at twelve-thirty. I must have let out a small groan when he started his goodbyes and said he'd let me get back to my friends.

'Problem?'

'Yes.'

'Anything I can help you with?'

'I doubt it. Somehow I've got to break the news to my oldest friends without them taking it as an open invitation to try and fix me up with every unsuitable bachelor in the city.'

'I'm afraid we have a lot of those. Good luck.'

He was chortling as he hung up. Not a lot of people chortle these days. Certainly Jane didn't. She screamed when I told her what had happened before rushing into my arms and forcing me to join her in jumping up and down. I felt a bit self-conscious, but the pleasure holding a warm body close was worth the embarrassment.

'Soon as my back is turned. No, you two carry on. I'll just sit here and enjoy the view.'

We hadn't heard Joe come in. He still had the robe, but it was now open and he wore an outfit almost identical to mine. Except his fitted. I caught myself admiring the skinny frame. Jane turned towards him still leaving her arm around my waist. She explained what was going on and insisted - over his protests - that he go into the cellar and fetch up a bottle of champagne.

'You've got a wine cellar?'

'Well, it's a cellar and it has wine in it. Only the one bottle now that I've brought this up though.'

Joe was shivering as he returned with the bottle of fizz.

'We bought it last Xmas and never got round to drinking it.'

'Stop moaning you old misery. Just think that if we didn't have it in I'd have been sending you out on your bike to get one.'

Jane unhitched herself from me and went across and kissed him again. I felt a slight pang that I'd never managed to maintain the level of intimacy and enjoyment in each other that they had.

I was given no time to dwell, however. Jane brought glasses and Joe managed to crack an antique-glass lamp shade when removing the cork. My success was toasted; then the imminence of my move; then Xmas and finally the champagne was empty. We moved on to the food - delicious - and then more wine. The meal was punctuated by Jane telling funny stories about school. Somehow the internal wrangling a of Joe's design business or the corridors of power I inhabited were not half as interesting.

'By the way, my taxi driver asked me to remind you that it was OK to beat his grandson. Sayeed, I think he said the name was.'

Jane laughed.

'If I've told Muhammad once, I've told him a thousand times: we're no longer allowed to hit kids. It's against the law.'

She sighed.

'In fact, and I know you'll find this hard to believe, successive governments have outlawed virtually all forms of torture of small children. Takes all the fun out of the job.'

She laughed to herself.

'We only get to do it on parents' evening these days.'

By the time we slumped in front of a blazing fire in their spacious front room we had finished all the wine in the house and were starting on Joe's brandy.

'Takes you back.'

'What does?'

'This. Getting wrecked on booze. Always reminds me of the houses we shared.'

All three of us fell silent. I imagine, like me, they too were recalling other nights, other bottles and other sofas. The stories started coming thick and fast. At first they were pretty innocuous - tales of drunkenness and waking up in strange places. Odd people we'd found asleep on sofas on hungover Sunday mornings and the like. It soon deteriorated into an in-depth discussion of the early chapters of the history of my sex life.

'Remember that guy Mark?'

Joe laughed as he let out a series of low grunts whilst banging on the sofa arm with his hand. Jane joined in with a chorus of high squeaks and pants in unison.

'I did not sound like that.'

They just made the same noises but louder before breaking into peals of laughter.

'Then there was the night she took on him and that other guy at the same time. What was his name?'

'I'm not sure we ever found out, did we?'

I was treated to an augmented chorus purporting to represent my younger self being fucked by two guys. I feigned ignorance of the event, but it brought flashbacks of an evening with a couple of rugby players. If my memory was correct, it was the first time I took it up the arse; a pleasure I've enjoyed as often as I can ever since.

'I wasn't the only one. You two did it twice a night for seventeen nights running once.'

'We never did.'

'Oh yes. Me and that other girl - Celia was it? - had a calendar in the kitchen. I used it to get an extension for one of my end-of-term essays.'

'You told your tutor?'

Jane sounded shocked.

'Well I had to come up with some excuse. And you used to keep it up for hours. It's a wonder I ever got any sleep.'

'Seventeen days.'

Joe, at least, was impressed by the statistic.

'OK Casanova. Don't let it go to your head or I'll have to start keeping statistics on your current performance.'

'So whatever happened to Mark?'

Not the most subtle of subject changes, but it seemed to work. We were soon swapping stories of those we'd kept in touch with and others we only had gen on because of lies uploaded to Facebook. Turned out a large number of old mates had become teachers. Jane kept in touch via the professional sites which gave the story of career progressions similar to her own. The teacher-grapevine filled in the gaps, so we were soon back onto infidelity, divorce, gang bangs and, in the case of one of our shyer acquaintances, suspected bestiality.

We had slowly slumped together on the large Chesterfield which dominated their front room. I was in the middle. Joe had manspread and was pressing his thigh against mine; Jane had slowly slumped against my other side. With all the booze and the naughty stories, I was enjoying the physical contact perhaps more than I should have been. Jane stood up. It was her turn to put more wood on the fire. She stretched tall and smiled down at the two of us.

'I feel a bit overdressed looking at the two of you.'

'At last, a stripper, just what we need to round the evening off.'

Joe started humming a familiar tune and beating a syncopated tattoo on the leather arm. Jane unbuttoned her conservative cardigan and took it off after pulling it on and off her shoulder a few times first.

'That's all you two lechers are getting. I am going to get into my PJs though. I feel hot just looking at you two.'

'You are hot.'

'At last, something I can agree with Joe about.'

'Get you anything while I'm up?'

She smiled at my compliment and took the empty glasses we waved at her before heading for the door. Joe and I grinned at each other and I fought back an urge to kiss him. Jane was back quickly looking cutely asexual in a fleecy onesie. She put down a tray on the coffee table and then threw herself across at me, shivering herself warmer against my side.

'I was thinking.'

'S'what you're paid for.'

She hit me on the upper arm.

'No. I wondered. Did you ever?'

'Did I ever what?'

'At The Swan? You know.'

'Still not getting it.'

'Could be anything when you're talking about Georgie, couldn't it? Have a gang bang; wee in a punter's lager, raffle off blow jobs for the pensioners' Xmas party?'

'You can shut up. That's my friend you're talking about.'

Jane stretched over me to punch her husband in the leg. Mission accomplished, she leaned back over my knees and looked up into my face.

'Did you ever do a strip?'

'I don't know how you could ask such a thing.'

She giggled and I watched her breasts wobble beneath the thick material.

'First because the landlord was always trying to get the barmaids to do it. He must have asked me every other shift.'

'You never told me that.'

Joe sounded aggrieved.

'Shut it, the big girls are talking. And second, you were just the sort of slapper who would take him up on the offer.'

'Well...'

'You did, didn't you?'

'I did have a bit too much to drink one night.'

'I knew it.'

She rearranged her body to prop herself up on her elbow which she squeezed between my leg and Joe's. I reached across and brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

'Go on, tell.'

'Not much to it really. You're right he was always pushing it, wasn't he?'

'I can't believe you never told me.'

'Shh.'

'You remember how there'd always be a lock-in for a few of the lads on a Friday?'

'Yeah.'

'So, when I'd finished clearing up as usual I went across with a drink to sit with them for a bit.'

'That cute guy you always fancied was there, wasn't he?'

'Are you telling this story or am I?'

'Sorry.'

'I should hope so. That Sandra had been on that night. Big girl. She was always a lot more giving wouldn't you say?'

'I caught her once trying to get into lover-boy here's pants when she bumped into him hanging around outside waiting for me.'

I feigned shock and Joe muttered something about always being picked on. I leaned over and kissed his cheek in sympathy.

'Wonder whatever happened to her?'

'She's a dinner lady at my school now. Has been for about ten years. Get on with it.'

'Well, you know what the banter was like.'

'I don't.'

'I'm not going to tell you again, Joe. Stop interrupting.'

'They were pushing it and I kept saying no. In the end I said something likeI'd never do it on the wages he pays; something like that.'

'Then what happened?'

Jane sounded like a child waiting for the end of a scary story. I stroked her head again and we smiled at each other.

'There must have been seven or eight of them there. They all put a quid on the table. Except the cute guy.'

'Cheapskate.'

'He tossed in a fiver and said he'd give me a lift home after if I did it. So I did.'

Jane giggled and clapped her hands.

'And what was it like?'

I pretended to think.

'Bit disappointing really. He drove one of those Ford Capris. Look good, but no way you'd want to fuck on the back seat.'

Jane and Joe were both laughing.

'So I gave him the old combination on the way home and spent the rest of the night listening to you two going at it.Harder, Joe, harder. Ungh, Ungh..'

'Combination?'

'Hand and mouth. We almost crashed twice as I recall.'

Jane had covered her face with her hands when I impersonated her screwing. I spotted Joe pulling the front of his T-shirt down over his groin. We were touching thighs again.

'You know I didn't mean the ride home. Come on.'

'You mean the stripping?

'What else?'

'It was alright, I suppose. What was that landlord's name? Anyway, he lit up the stage and put some music on. I couldn't see much beyond the edge of it. You know what a crap dancer I am, so I don't suppose it was much to look at.'

'Don't sell yourself short.'

'OK, I won't. They were whistling and cheering me all the way down to my knickers. I thought for the money they'd paid - it was two or three times a normal night's wages, wasn't it? - I should let them have a closer look. They all had erections when I sat on their knees and let them touch me up, so I guess they weren't disappointed.'

'And you never told me about it.'

'Well you never asked, did you? And anyway, when I got in you were rather busy.'

I screwed up my face in mock ecstasy and got a punch for my troubles. We all got lost in our own thoughts for a minute or two. Jane rolled upright and passed out the glasses. Joe stood up and walked over to the fire to put on another log. He almost managed to disguise the raging stiffie he was sporting. I sipped at my brandy; Jane looked at hers and then downed it in one.