To Hell With It

Prologue

I t all started on a Saturday morning.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a naked arse. Jack’s naked arse. And I literally felt myself jump out of my own body. Like that feeling you get when you’re falling asleep and your whole body jerks. I froze then as it hit me that I had brought him home, into my house, into my bed.

I looked down at my own body and felt a gigantic wave of relief that I at least still had my pants and bra on, even if they were mismatched. But I had absolutely no idea if we’d had sex.

I scanned his tanned skin, which made mine look even paler, and glanced around my bedroom. I could see my salmon-pink jumper on my chair, my jeans draped neatly on top of it, and it dawned on me then that I might have done my rituals with him right there. That he might have seen it all?

Jack stirred and rolled onto his back and it snapped me out of my thoughts. I had no idea how I would get from the bed to my clothes, but I knew I couldn’t stay as I was, in my mismatched underwear with so much pale skin on show.

I moved one leg first, slowly, so that it hung out of the bed and then turned my body on its side until I could slide out, literally onto the floor, and crawl over to my chair on my hands and knees. If he’d woken up at that point, I honestly think I would have died.

I tugged my jeans off the chair and caught them before they hit the wooden floor, followed by my salmon-pink jumper. I pulled them on quickly and wondered how the hell I would escape – I couldn’t exactly leave my own house with him still in it.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like shit and there wasn’t enough time to do anything about it. I ruffled my hair as much as I could to untangle the mass of curls on top of my head, but I still looked the same way I always looked in the morning – like a scarecrow.

I crept towards my door and pulled it closed gently behind me. I’d make him tea – I don’t drink coffee – and wait for him to come downstairs. But then I felt the rise in my own chest as the realisation hit me. I’d worried so much about how Jack would leave that I’d completely forgotten my biggest challenge: to get myself down the stairs first. I could feel the sweat that had started to form on my forehead as I stood at the top of the stairs. I could hear the bed creak as Jack started to stir once again. I placed one foot in front of the other, then took a deep breath, and began to count.

‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine , penis , ten…

I know what you’re thinking – what’s the deal with the stairs and penis? Who is this woman?

Pleased to meet you, my name is Pearl.