What became of us

he re-read Lady Chatterley’s Lover in the light of sexual experience. When Ursula returned home a few days later he asked for Manon’s address, pretending that they had discussed a book that he had promised to send her. His sister had not suspected. Ursula was the sort of person who was always surprised by other people’s deviousness. Privately he had wondered whether the law was really the best career choice for her.
    His first letters to Manon were cautious, then when she did not reply, more passionate, until the letters became a kind of secret refuge from the constant agony of his infatuation.
    Finally, she wrote back. His mother handed him the pale blue envelope with a quizzical look on her face. Seeing the French stamp and the scrawl that he recognized from the note on the kitchen table at Joshua Street, he rushed out of the house and ran all the way to the park to read it. There was just one small piece of paper.

    Dear Roy,
    Please do not write to me any more. I cannot love you and if you knew anything about me, you would not love me.
    Congratulations on getting a scholarship to Oxford. I hope all your dreams come true there.
    Manon

    He had tortured all sorts of meanings from those few simple words, but he had never understood.
    Now his lips were kissing the top of her head distractedly and repeatedly, like an adult comforting a child.
    ‘Hold me,’ she said, turning to face him.
    He held her quite still. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. She pulled her face away from his shirt. They looked at each other. Then their heads tilted slightly to one side as if asking a silent question, and then his moved towards her and he kissed her lips and she kissed him back. She shifted to kneeling. Then they were both kneeling, holding each other’s faces. Then his hands were in her hair, and her palms were cupping the fine sandpaper of his chin, and then simultaneously they stood up, and she stepped towards him so that the length of her body was pressed against his. They kissed, stopped kissing, kissed again, then stepped apart and looked at each other, and the exchange of souls in that look was more intimate than any kiss could be. Fully clothed, she felt naked.
    She took his hand, as she had taken it many years before, and led them upstairs, to the little room above the front door.

    The street light outside cast a dull shadow of the cross of the window onto one of the walls. Roy hung his jacket on the empty curtain rail. He came to her, wrapping his arms around her shivering shoulders, transmitting his warmth to her. She wanted nothing except to be held like that.
    Then again, smelling him, the wonderful mixture of spray starch and masculinity, she unbuckled the belt of his formal trousers, unzipped him, and let the smooth wool fabric drop to the floor, feeling herself flood with longing as she saw his erection trying to force its way out of his innocent white cotton pants.
    He stepped out of his trousers. Then stepped backwards and took off his shirt. She slipped her feet out of her shoes. The carpet felt very dry against the soles of her feet. He was standing, waiting, in black socks and white cotton pants, and she still had her dress on but she felt completely vulnerable. In the dull light seeping into the room, she saw that there were a few tufts of wiry hair on his chest. He was a man now. Suddenly, she could no longer bear not touching him. In one swift movement, she bent, grabbed the hem of her dress in both hands and unfurled it all the way up her body and over her head. She could feel her skin contracting into goosebumps. Then she stepped towards him.
    He grasped her hair in both hands twisting it high up on her crown and then letting it tumble again to her waist. He drew her to him, enveloping her skinny form in his body, his head dipping towards hers to kiss her. She put her hands on his shoulders and climbed his body like a tree until she was sitting above the branch of his erection, her legs wrapped tightly round his waist, and kissed him back as she had never kissed anyone else.
    Cradling her bottom in one hand, he hooked his finger round the edge of her black cotton panties, pulling the fabric just enough to allow his penis to slip straight into her. She shrieked with unexpected pleasure and they both collapsed laughing to the floor, still joined together, with her on top of him her insides liquefying around him until the moment when they both became liquid together.

    ‘Don’t say