Читать книгу Saffron’s Menagerie - Phil Stevenson - Страница 8

Saffron is quartered in a modest apartment off-campus with a car space and Reg is in a dorm on campus but very much shared. He told Saff that it’s like a military dormitory, but with private walls. You get a bed, wardrobe, large desk and a sink, with bench and a small fridge. No cooking allowed. A couple of power points finish off the décor.

“What about a bathroom?’

“Nope. It is a share experience, but I’ll get used to it.”

The next day, a Sunday, they go for a long walk through Copley Square sight-seeing. They share a magnificent plain six-egg omelet that is over one inch thick. Saffron could never make one like that.

“How about clam chowder later?’ asks Reg.

“For sure! I’ll clam your butt.”

“No like clams?”

“Nope.”

“OK, what shall we do later today?”

“Come around to my flat and I’ll cook for you.”

“Yeah”’ he laughs, “All us students want is a bathroom, fridge and microwave.”

“Don’t be a loser Reg. See you at six tonight.”

Saffron paid for the meal and left Reg to himself. Independence she cherishes. If Reg handles it, then it’s a relationship made in heaven.

As she departs she looks at him with a smile, “Here,” she drops her car keys down. “Return it at 6 p.m., my place.”

Saffron hailed a cab and went on a private icon tour. Not Bunker Hill, but the USS Constitution. Old ‘Iron Sides’ that gave a fist to the British navy during George Washington’s time. She is the world's oldest commissioned naval vessel still afloat. Launched in 1797.

Getting home, she phones her folks and chats for thirty minutes.

Dad was great and Mom was great. All was great.

Saffron thanked them yet again for paying for most of Reg’s tuition to be with her. Saff had convinced them that one mind was not enough to discover the prehistoric beast to modern man synergy that they both had connected to when in high school. After all, Reg surpassed his contemporaries in Chemistry. A child prodigy he was.

Reg was as sharp as. Right on six o’clock, he knocks on Saff’s door. She opens with pleasure. The microwave was hot and the fridge was full of Bollinger, her folk’s favorite.

“Nice car Saff,” Reg smiles as he lays the car key on the table.

“My folks bought it last month. Brand new white Toyota Yaris. Dad says it should be reliable and efficient and last my entire tenancy at M.I.T.”

“I like it,” replies Reg.

“Well, you can borrow it whenever you like, as long as I’m not using it and you return it to me by the end of each day.”

They ate lasagna with crusty bread. Saff opened a bottle of Bollinger.

“You really like this stuff,” Reg says as he watched the fine beads of bubbles flow from the bottom of the flute glass. “A bit mesmerizing.”

“It’s my folk’s favorite. They drink it most weekends and a bit during the week. They wouldn’t let me taste it until I turned sixteen. My reaction was, ‘Why have you kept me from this all my life’? My Dad says that the matriarch of the Champagne house, Madame Bollinger, stated once, ‘You can drink my champagne when you are sad, when you are happy and anywhere in between.”

Reg laughs and takes a sip, “Better than Pepsi.”

The bottle went down well, so Saff opens another, declaring out loud in a disappointed way, that there will be no more.

“Remember at primary school?” She slurs, “When you were confronted by that fucker, Wayne Kerr?”

“What are you bringing this up for?” Reg frowns. “Wayne Kerr. So, I called him wanker because if you say his name fast enough that’s what you get.”

“Well Wanker didn’t like it, but I did. I thought it was so funny.”

“Not good Saff, for then it was on at the 3 p.m. after school punch up. I loathe that shit. He wanted to beat me up!”

“It was fun. I came upon you both and you were saying, ‘I don’t want to fight OK’, and Wanker wanted to fight anyhow. So I stepped in and said, ‘fight me instead bozo’. To which Wanker shied away. He knew with my parents influence I could make things uncomfortable for him.”

“And his bike was reported stolen the next day, and found burnt out in the forest. Right?”

“Right,” says Saff, with a wink at Reg. “Later on, in high school he once told me, that the look I gave him that day, scared the bejesus out of him.”

After a few more glasses of Madam’s drop, Saff drops her head on Reg’s lap.

“Reg, I’m nearly twenty-one, and you’re you, right?”

“Huh’? says Reg.

“I don’t want to have any heavy relationships while at MIT, but I like sex.”

“So?” asks Reg. “What about the school basketball captain, Trev Rixon. Weren’t you . . .?”

“Yes, we did it lots. OK.”

“OK then, so where do I fit into this entrancing story of yours?” Reg is a bit drunk.

“Well I want to have sex with you on a regular basis. Got to wear a condom because I’m not doing the pill. And no stay overs either.”

Reg is stunned, but at the same time elated. He felt his manhood rustle.

“So, let’s go and perfect our Saturday night stress relief, plus some.” Saffron takes Reg by his hand and pulls him into her bedroom and onto her bed.

Reg whispers, “Can I play with your feet. I’ve always loved them since primary school. Perfect toes. A five-star rating.”

“Whatever, you nerd’, giggled Saff as she pulled off her socks.