Chapter 3

My double practical organic chemistry in the lab went fine; I was lucky in that my bench-mate, Malcolm, seemed to have a natural flair for laboratory glassware, and erected the complicated arrangement very quickly. In the time it would normally have taken me just to find the correct bits, he had it all assembled and we started our distillation process.

We were easily finished by 1, and I was able to get home, do my washing and tumble drying at the launderette, and get myself organised for the week ahead. I needed to visit the bank for some cash, with three evenings out in a row coming up.

I had arranged to pick Sian up at 6 for our 'date' together. We had gone out for a drink together so many times that it seemed very normal, but I knew that she and Vee wanted me to up my game with Julie.

I arrived a few minutes early, found the front door ajar, and knocked quietly on Julie's door on my way up. She was sitting on her bed reading.

"I'm really sorry I made us oversleep this morning, my darling - are you okay?"

"Yes, we just made it to the lecture on time. I was a bit hungry by lunchtime, though! Thanks for tidying up here so well - did you read all my love letters while you were at it?"

"How could I? I haven't written you any yet!"

She blushed. I worried that I might be moving too fast. I changed the subject.

"Actually I dropped in to see if you would meet me for lunch tomorrow, so we can work out what we'd like to do on Friday night."

"Yes, that would be nice. Salad bar at 1?"

"Great, see you then. Bye!"

"Wait, Jon, I think I might get Vee to give you another assignment - I've never had a love letter, I might quite like them!"

"I've never written one either! My first attempt will probably be appalling. Promise me you'll give me an honest critique of content and style?"

"Deal. Be good tonight, I'll see you at one tomorrow. Enjoy your date with Sian. Bye!"

We exchanged a kiss, and I went upstairs. Vee and Sian were in the kitchen.

"Hi, Jon, was the front door open?"

"Yes, but I've shut it behind me. Vee, how do you want to play tomorrow night? Bryony will be here, so I can hardly share your bed."

"Aren't you making a big assumption that we'll get on well enough that you'll be invited back? No, I'm only teasing! We'll do what I used to do with Costas - make up a bed in the sitting room from the sofa cushions. Bryony won't be happy that I'm with another man than Jeff, but it's not happening in her bedroom so she can pretend to ignore it. We won't let on that it's you, though, or she'll get very upset that Sian and I are both being fucked by the same man. She's currently intending to be a virgin on her wedding night, and she's got some serious hang-ups on the subject."

As Sian and I trotted down the stairs for our evening out, Julie gave me a brilliant smile from their kitchen. I felt ten feet tall.

"So what do you want to do tonight, Sian? I think we should do more than just have a couple of pints and a bag of chips!"

"Not too much more - I want you to save your wit and charm for dazzling Julie on Friday! I was thinking, you haven't actually been to the porno film fleapit yet, have you?"

"No, I've only heard about it from some of the lads. Would you like to check it out before we take the other two there on Monday?"

"That was my idea. I know you haven't got your flasher mac with you, but we can go in and see what it's like."

"That's a great idea. Fancy a pint first?"

"That, my young man, is an even better idea!"

We had a pint in a pub on Charles Street, then cut across to St. Mary Street and wandered down to the fleapit, avoiding the pile of litter and the puddle of liquid at the side of the steps. One side of the double doors was open; the other door was partly boarded up and looked as if it hadn't been opened in years.

There was a bare cobweb-festooned bulb lighting up the inside; the dirty windows admitted very little light. There were a few grubby posters on the even grubbier walls in the cinema foyer, for films like "Last Tango in Paris" and "Deep Throat", but the movie showing this week was "Cindy's Cajun Cat House". Next week would be "The Seven Sins of Sexy Sadie".

"Two please, mate."

"It's already started, but you'll pick up the story easy enough."

We pushed through the creaking swing doors with their chipped and peeling paint, and found ourselves in a grubby and musty-smelling darkness, lit only by the flickering images from the screen. Ignoring our fellow film-goers as they ignored us, we took off our coats and sat down in an empty row away from the thickest areas of billowing cigarette smoke.

The ticket seller had been right, the plot was quite simple.

The film was apparently set in a brothel in the American Deep South, and the only activity in the script was sex. The men were all well endowed, and the women incredibly busty. Sian and I made mental notes of some of the gymnastic contortions, and exchanged a few comments whenever the action depicted was of interest. Sian had a couple of fits of the giggles.

As the credits rolled, I jokingly asked her if she wanted to see the beginning, or indeed the whole film again, to which the answer was an emphatic "No!"

None of the others in the audience got up to leave as we did; they were obviously going to be there until closing time.

We had a quick half in one of the local pubs so Sian could have a pee in almost hygienic conditions, washed our hands thoroughly, and then picked up a bag of chips each, which we ate out of the paper on our way home.

Oddly enough, when we got upstairs and went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, we were very quickly joined by Vee and Julie. It almost seemed as if they had been waiting up for us.

"Where did you go?"

"Oh, just to the cinema. Nothing much, apart from nearly getting thrown out when Sian wanted a choc-ice. We had a beer and a bag of chips and came home. Sian, do you want a slice of toast with that tea?"

"But the cinema is about the only place you can get a choc-ice this time of year. Why did they try to throw you out?"

"No choc-ices in this cinema, and when you ask loudly for one when it is quite obvious from the action on the screen why you thought of it just then, the other customers might get annoyed."

"And what was going on?"

"The gentleman on the screen was rather well tanned, and the lady helping him with his problem had lots of very white teeth, so it looked as if she was eating a choc-ice."

"Jon, I don't understand what on earth you are talking about?"

"Sorry, Julie, we're teasing you a bit. We went to have a look at the porno fleapit, so we would know what to expect when we all go. The film we saw was set in a brothel, and the afore-mentioned rather well-endowed man was being given oral sex by a very enthusiastic woman with big teeth, huge tits and a curly wig with a feather in it. Sian started giggling and thinking of choc-ices, but no-one took any notice."

"The two of you absolutely stink of cigarette smoke!"

"Yes, I know, and that reminds me: don't wear new clothes when we all go. There are some very dodgy-looking stains on the seats. Is it okay if I quickly wash my hair in your bathroom? Sian will need to do hers as well."

"Woah there, Jon - don't you remember that scene where the man wearing the stetson hat took a bath with the help of that maid?"

"Sian, you aren't suggesting..."

"Yep. Let's recreate that scene for the benefit of these two. They will find it very educational."

So the four of us adjourned to the bathroom on the half landing, which had the advantage of not being next to anyone's bedroom. It was a bit of a squeeze, but we all got in and locked the door behind us.

"Hairwash first, I think!"

Sian and I quickly stripped off our smokey clothes, and took turns bending naked over the bath, using the rubber shower hose fed by the bath taps to wash and rinse our hair with Vee's help. None of us had extremely long hair, certainly not by early 1970's standards, so it wasn't too much of a performance.

Someone molested me while I had shampoo in my hair, and I didn't dare open my eyes to see who it was. From the muffled giggles, I think it was probably a team molestation effort. Gustav didn't mind; he was very much into furtive fondles.

We towelled our hair roughly dry. That done, we were ready for our demonstration.

Sian climbed over the edge of the bath, and stood up with her back to the taps.

"We haven't got the props or the space needed, but you will just have to imagine that Jon is about to go into the brothel bathroom, where he is expecting one of those old-fashioned copper hip baths to be ready for him to wash off the dust of the trail. He is wearing his cowboy hat, but nothing more."