Her Song

4 - Crackers

**Kim**

I slumped back in the sofa and picked at the label on my beer bottle.

Obviously you're sexually frustrated. The accusation from my school days that was levelled at anyone who picked at a label rang through my head. I almost laughed out loud. Sexual frustration was probably the only thing not currently wrong with my relationship with Bradley.

I crossed my legs as I planted my feet on the coffee table in front of me. God, my mother would cut my legs off if she could see me do that. I darted a sideways glance at Bradley who directed a glare at my feet but remained silent as he returned his focus to his computer. Time to take it up a level. I leaned forward and carefully placed my condensation covered beer bottle on the coffee table beside my feet. Slightly to the left of the coaster that sat there waiting to catch the drips.

"Kim, use the bloody coaster!" Bradley admonished as he looked up briefly. Success! I don't know why I was trying to push his buttons other than the fact that he'd pushed my buttons so hard he'd have launched a nuclear strike on North Korea if he'd been in charge of the security codes.

I sulkily picked my drink up and slammed it down on the coaster. I don't know why he even cared; his coffee table was the ugliest glass, chrome and white laminate thing I'd ever seen. The man should have cheered if I'd started laying into it with a sledgehammer. Yes, I'll admit it was better than the one at my house but that wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, mine had come out of a skip. Exactly where this one belonged.

It was the Tuesday night after the dinner with the 'ands' that he'd stood me up for. Somehow I'd imagined that I'd be the recipient of a grovelling apology. You know the kind, one involving flowers, champagne, maybe lingerie and definitely hours of unselfish sexing.

Ha!

Fat chance.

I'd gotten a "Sorry darling, you know things get crazy at this time of year. I couldn't get away," as he'd pulled my skirt up, fumbled with my knickers and fucked me against the wall in the entry foyer of his flat. Hot? Yes. Hours of intimate adoration? No. So whilst the sex was satisfying as always with Bradley, the apology was less so.

Did we talk? Did we discuss how I felt after he'd ducked out of meeting my friends once again? No we did not. Bradley had pulled my skirt back into place, pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and said, "Order us a take-away will you love? Whatever you feel like as long as it's a curry. I have to look over some sales reports tonight so we'll need to stay in." Thanks Bradley. Way to make me feel like the kind of prostitute who's murdered by a lorry driving serial killer.

So now here we were, curry eaten, and my beautiful new maxi-dress worn in anticipation of an evening out was being wasted in the confines of Bradley's, and soon to be mine, flat.

My phone pinged. It was Lucy checking in to see if Bradley had made it up to me after his no show. I responded quickly that no, in fact, he had not, accompanied by a couple of angry face emojis.

Her response came back quickly. A close up of Kevin the Pomeranian's grinning little face with the words 'shall I set the dog on him?' I laughed out loud. That was why Lucy was my best friend. She could let me know that she thought Bradley was a pillock while still making me laugh.

Bradley's currency among my friends was rapidly diminishing. They'd started to take his reluctance to meet them as a personal comment against them and also, even though they didn't say it out loud, against me.

My friends had been well into their second glasses of wine when Van and I had joined them on Friday night. We'd been stopped in the doorway of Leotta's by a couple of girls asking for Van's autograph and a photo with him which had made him adorably awkward. He had this funny little smirk he offered when he felt uncomfortable. The girls thought that it was sexy, that he was interested in them, but I'd spent enough time with him to know that what it really meant was he wanted to be anywhere but where he was right at that moment. I'd been the recipient of it when I'd tried to wind him up about turning me down when I'd made a pass at him. The girls had been joined by a couple more and he'd posed and smirked and, eventually, gratefully retreated when Salvo, Tony's brother, rescued us to lead us to our table.