jumper

There had been a time, shortly after I left school and before she and James had, Lucy visited me where I was staying. As I mentioned before, I wasn’t exactly living in the best circumstances, but I made the effort to get the place as clean as possible for her weekend visit. It was a spring bank holiday, Easter holiday, something like that. I was sharing a flat with a couple of other members of my band, and there was a choice when she visited of sleeping on the couch in the communal living area, or sticking a camp bed in my bedroom. She was really nice about it and insisted I use the camp bed option. Otherwise there’d have been no getting to sleep.

We went out for a drink in the evening and missed the last bus home. Couldn’t afford a taxi, so we walked home, which was about three or four miles. We got in really late, and then we went to our separate beds. The flat was cold, so she was borrowing one of my jumpers. I had this baggy woolly jumper that I’d scalded by drying it too close to the fire. So it was blue with a kind of orange burn on it. That was as close as I ever got to seeing her naked. She had the most beautiful legs. Smooth and brown. She was wearing nothing but my big baggy jumper and her underwear, and I got a quick look at her legs as she got into bed and under the covers. My fingers were burning with the anticipation of what it might feel like to touch her, to gently run my hand over her skin.

We lay there in the dark for about another hour, talking about things. We’d spent the evening talking, then the long walk home talking, and then we couldn’t stop talking. It was the first time we’d had some much time together, and certainly the only time I got to spend as much time with her without James being there. Staring at the ceiling in the dark, feeling the night breeze blowing across my room from the open window, I was saying a silent prayer that she’d ask me to get in bed with her. No way I was going to make the first move. My best friend’s girl and all. I don’t know what she was thinking, maybe she too was worried how awkward it would be with the James involvement.

It was a night and a feeling that stayed with me for years afterwards. Nothing to sour or bitter the experience, years later, just a remote sadness at a missed opportunity mingled with the deep contentment I felt after having had that time to talk. It was a good talk.