The Morning After

It was 9 a.m. on Sunday morning. I’d had –maybe – 15 minutes’ sleep, my hair had turned into some monster of indeterminate shape and nature that had no place on anyone’s head, and my mouth, out of which oozed morning breath, was surrounded by a flakey patch of stubble rash. Freddie was still trying to kiss me which meant that, for the moment at least, I was kind of happy, but also increasingly embarrassed. ‘Noooo’, I whined, ‘I have to brush my teeth now and go to my room.’ ‘No you don’t’, Freddie contradicted unsympathetically. ‘Well. You might need to brush your teeth.’ He relaxed his grip on me and grinned, running his hand over his annoyingly still nice hair. ‘Bring my toothbrush and a mug of water when you come back, I’ve got dog breath too.’

‘I’m not COMING back,’ I insisted grumpily, irrationally annoyed by his comment on my breath, even though I’d started it, and wishing he’d stop looking at my awful morning face. Any minute now he’d say I had bags under my eyes. There was a pause. ‘What is this crap about going to your room?’ Freddie asked, also grumpily, grin vanishing. Oh dear. Things were souring dreadfully fast. I sat up and looked at the duvet pattern. He has a horrible duvet. Why would I sleep with a man with such a nasty duvet? I wondered. And then, is it normal to question one’s sexual encounters based on their taste in bed linen? ‘What are Laura and Jamie going to think if they see me coming out of your room?’ I asked him, because that really was the reason I was so hell bent on getting out of there. ‘Who cares?’ he sighed. ‘They’re going to find out sooner or later, if it keeps happening, aren’t they?’

Oh god. And there it was. ‘If it keeps happening’. What did that mean? Did that mean ‘it’s going to keep happening as far as I’m concerned, is that alright with you?’ – in which case, was the appropriate response ‘yes, I guess so. Now let me get your toothpaste’? (Was it ok to be getting his toothbrush anyway? Oh GOD, the overthinking.) Or did it mean, ‘maybe I’ll want to shag you all night again some other time. Or maybe not’, in which case how was I going to not cry in front of him? Oh god, Alice, I thought, what have you done? What is Cora going to say? When is Neenee going to show up again? Did he even break up with her? HORROR and PAIN.

There was another pause while I debated whether or not it would be acceptable to remark that I didn’t want to be asked what was going on between the two of us before I knew myself. I decided it wasn’t, mostly because I am a huge coward, and tried to get up to get to my clothes, which lay in a guilty pile next to the door. ‘Ally’, he growled, restraining me, ‘I like you. Quite a lot.’ ‘Really?’ I murmured childishly, blushing. ‘Yeah. I’ve wanted to get you in here ever since I moved in.’ I tried to play with my hair, which is the accepted female response to acute joy/acute embarrassment but the beast on my head was having none of it.

In spite of this, Freddie tried to kiss me again, which hurt the stubble rash. ‘Ow. Freddie. If it IS happening again you’re going to have to shave.’ He prodded my red chin and smirked. ‘Yeah. You better put some of your Yin Yangy stuff on this bit.’ He let me go. ‘Toothbrush’, he said again, into the pillow he was burying his stubbly face in as I dressed. ‘Ok, ok,’ I muttered, wondering what was wrong with the clothes I’d pulled on and then realizing that my Elle McPherson Intimates bra was missing. ‘Freddie, is my bra in your bed?’ He peered at me uncertainly for a moment and then started laughing, which was adorable and annoying. Oh GOD this was confusing. ‘Whaaaaat?’ I moaned. ‘It’s on the sofa, babe,’ he said, still laughing, ‘and so is my shirt. They know. Just come back now.’ I kicked his jeans out of the way and opened the bedroom door.

‘Alice?’ Laura and Jamie were standing on the landing at the other end of the corridor, outside my open bedroom door. Laura was holding my bra and Freddie’s shirt. ‘We were just wondering where you were,’ Laura began, sounding oddly defensive. ‘But I guess now we know’, Jamie finished, starting to laugh. Laura’s face fell. ‘Oh Alice. You DIDN’T.’ ‘I heard that’, shouted Freddie from the dark pit of his room. ‘Why are you even UP?’ I wailed. ‘What time did you get HOME?’ Jamie just laughed and Laura just gaped. The door opened behind me and Freddie’s arm was suddenly around my waist. ‘Morning, chaps’, he called to the others, kissing me robustly on the cheek, and then marching past them to the bathroom. ‘Ally’, he bawled, over the sound of running water ‘I’m throwing away your toothbrush again. You can use mine.’ Impossible. The man is impossible.

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Oh dear. I was going to tell you all about the last couple of weeks too, but I’ve run out of time. I'll get back to you in the next couple of days. But in answer to all your questions…

YES.