Читать книгу Always Something There To Remind Me - Lilian Kendrick - Страница 12

Chapter 4: Writing Group

I’d been going to the writing group for about eight months. To tell the truth, I almost threw in the towel after the first two weeks, because I felt so far out of my comfort zone. Everyone seemed to think I was a bit of an oddball because I laugh when I get nervous and sometimes that’s not the reaction people expect. I’d been writing for years, but I’d never let anyone else read my stuff. Bob wasn’t interested and … well, there’d never really been anyone else to talk to about it. Sharing my stories didn’t come easily and everyone else seemed so full of confidence. I’d only joined as an alternative to vegetating at home alone. Anyway, I showed up for the third session, convinced it would be my last, and it all changed. That was the week Des spoke to me for the first time. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed him before, of course. Everyone noticed Des, especially Tess, the group leader. At first I thought they were ‘together’, but it soon became clear that wasn’t the case. Well, that night, I arrived just as the session was about to start. I glanced around, deciding where to sit so I wouldn’t be noticed; then Des arrived and ushered me to a seat.

‘Latecomers have to sit at the “naughty” table,’ he said with a smile that would have melted an iceberg. ‘I’m Des and I’m a … lousy writer.’ He feigned embarrassment and I laughed as I shook the hand he offered.

‘I’m Lydia and I’m probably worse,’ I replied. That was the start, and now, months down the line, we had a comfortable, easy-going friendship based on laughter and shared tastes in books and music.

* * * * *

We sat together in the back room of the pub where the meetings were held. There were twelve of us in the group most weeks. Three of them were really pretentious gits who thought everything should be ‘literary’ and ‘worthy’. A couple of the others could spin a good yarn, and then there were some who never said anything, but took copious notes. I often wondered what they found to write. Some weeks we read and critiqued each other’s work, but this time we had a guest speaker, Eve something-or-other. She wrote romance and she was talking about how to write sex scenes

‘First, you need to get over your own feelings,’ she said. ‘If the scene embarrasses you, the odds are it will embarrass your reader. Be comfortable with the terminology you use. It’s often better to use the proper names for body parts, for example, especially if you’re writing in the third person …’

Des whispered, ‘Who’s this third person? The first two haven’t “done it” yet, and now it’s a ménage à trois?’

I stifled a giggle and took a gulp of my Diet Coke. ‘Shut up! You’re embarrassing me,’ I hissed, but there was no stopping him.

‘You have to get over these feelings of embarrassment.’ He mimicked Eve Thingybob perfectly and I could barely control the laughter.

‘Behave yourself, Desmond.’ I thumped his thigh with my fist. He wriggled in his seat.

‘Ooh, that hurt,’ he muttered, and then, ‘do it again, please …’ He continued to tease throughout the rest of the talk and I did my best not to laugh out loud. The man was incorrigible at times, but such good fun. I couldn’t help but respond to the twinkle in his green eyes and the warmth of his smile.

‘What got into you tonight?’ I asked, on the way home in my car. ‘I’ve never seen you like that before.’

‘The truth? I was a bit … er … embarrassed by all that stuff. You know … the sex talk. I couldn’t write a sex scene if my life depended on it. I’m not even sure I want to.’

I almost laughed, but a sideways glance at Des revealed that he was deadly serious.

‘So, what happens next week when we have to share our own efforts with the rest of them? Are you going to chicken out?’

He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I guess so. I can’t do it, Lyd.’

‘Nonsense! You just need a little help, that’s all.’

‘Talking of help, I was thinking about your list.’ He was changing the subject with no subtlety whatsoever. ‘If you’re going to go on a talent show, you should get some practice in first. You know, they have a karaoke night at the pub every Saturday?’

‘Really? I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad idea. I haven’t sung in public since I was twelve, and that was only a school concert. Let me think about it.’

‘Well, you don’t have long before the auditions for Stargazing start. In fact, I downloaded a backing track for you today… just to try out. We can have a run-through now, if you like. That’s if you want to come in for a cuppa.’

I’d just pulled to a halt outside the rather swish-looking building where Des lived.

‘Which song did you get? Nothing too difficult I hope.’

‘Hopelessly Devoted – I think it’s perfect for you.’

In his study, we put it to the test. He was right; the song was OK for me. I could reach all the notes and I didn’t sound too squeaky. I went through it twice and Des applauded; bless his heart.

‘Do you think I sound OK?’ I unplugged the microphone and handed it back to him. He’s very careful with all his gadgets.

‘It’s a good start. We’ll practise again before Saturday and you’ll knock ‘em for six.’ Of course, he was just being nice, but sometimes that’s all you need, isn’t it?

‘Hey, I haven’t said I’ll do it yet!’

‘No, but you will, won’t you?’ There was that smile again …

‘Well, we’ll see. Now it’s your turn.’

‘I’m not the one who wants to be a singer.’

‘I don’t mean singing, you daft sod. You’ve helped me, now let me help you. You want to be a writer, so let me help you write your scene for next week. It’s easy once you get started.’

‘Are you going to write it for me? That’s the only way this could work.’

‘I won’t write it for you; you’re more than capable of doing that for yourself. But I’ll help you. Now, tell me, why is it so difficult? You can write about all your other life experiences, so why not sex? I mean, you have experienced it, haven’t you?’

He laughed. ‘Not for a long time, Lyd. Since Alice left I’ve been a born-again virgin.’

This was a surprising confession. I’d always assumed that Des was pretty active in that area. I don’t know why; we’d never really talked about it before, but he was an attractive bloke with a great sense of humour and he seemed to ooze self-confidence. In fact, throughout the time I’d known him, I’d often wondered why someone with such an amazing personality was friends with a boring old frump like me.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I finally persuaded him to let me help with his writing demon. I left him with strict instructions to be at my place the following evening with the first draft of his sex scene.