Seventeen. Old enough to be trusted, on the weekend between Christmas and new year. “A pizza,” she’d told him, “somewhere in the west end. Then I think we might try to get cheap seats for a show.”
Ten-thirty, he’d guessed, at the earliest; eleven o’clock more likely, by the time she’d got the tube home. By eleven-thirty – his text unanswered – he was unsure whether to feel annoyed, or simply worried. When her reply finally came, with midnight long past, he least felt reassured – momentarily, at least:
I’ve missed the last tube and will have to stay at my friend’s place.
So sorry! Hope you had a lovely evening x
Or, translated:
You were wrong to trust me.
His reply was brief:
I was worried about you. Make sure you are home by midday. We will discuss this then.
‘Discuss: verb. To let a girl know how badly she has let herself down. To demand a full explanation. To send her to her room. To punish her, severely, with a thick leather belt. To ground her for the remainder of the holiday. To hold her tight as her tears stained his shirt. To make her feel safe, and loved.’
Yes, they’d ‘discuss’ it. A necessary process, that they would both dread and hate. Old enough to be trusted? Not too old to be taught a lesson…
“Or, translated: you were wrong to trust me.” Just perfect!
“Discuss: Verb. To let a girl know…” Good God!
Brilliant post, Abel!
Prefect way to spend my short break, read your post. Thank you!
“Not too old to be taught a lesson.” Oh. Hot. So hot. Happy New Year, Abel! xx