36. Wicked and lecherous – 1992
Beauty is only skin deep. It was an old saying that Ursula’s nan had been fond of repeating if ever she’d caught her spending too much time in front of the mirror.
It had been quite infuriating for Ursula in those teenage years because her beauty was the only thing she’d had going for her.
Especially in the friendless years of senior school when only the older boys were interested in her.
But after ten days of living with Pablo, Ursula was beginning to see what her nan had been getting at.
Because while he was definitely the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, Pablo was also the most selfish, arrogant prick she’d ever met.
He really did love himself. But when everyone else was in love with you, perhaps you couldn’t help thinking you were a god.
She guessed it was the good looks and charm that sucked people in but Ursula was immune to that sort of thing, thanks to her father.
Unusually, her father had been on her mind a lot lately.
She didn’t normally give him the space but she’d been a bit aimless since leaving Birmingham.
Andi was at work, and without Anton and his lists to keep her going, Ursula had little else to do except wander around London, visiting museums and galleries, and thinking.
Perhaps it was Pablo triggering him in her thoughts.
To some extent they were similar. But Pablo’s faults were minuscule when you held them up against her father’s.
That man was so far off the Richter scale of selfishness, arrogance, and downright nastiness that she didn’t even bother comparing him to anyone else.
She’d never understood how someone as decent and as level-headed as her mum could have fallen for Bernard Fry when there were good men like Solly in the world.
But seeing Andi with Pablo had opened her eyes.
Andi took the piss out of him relentlessly, she complained about him doing nothing around the flat and about him spending all his money on himself.
You name it, she had a go at him about it.
But she still worshipped him. In the last ten days they’d argued at least three times about something Pablo had done or hadn’t done and each time, she’d caved in. It just didn’t seem like Andi at all.
Ursula left the station and walked up the High Road.
All she’d done that afternoon was ride on the tube and sit on the steps in Trafalgar Square watching the tourists.
She’d gone out at the same time as Andi that morning while Pab was still in bed.
He generally didn’t get up until the afternoon because he worked at night.
They’d tiptoed around the flat, whispering as they got ready, trying not to wake him.
Not that he’d extended the courtesy the other way when he’d come in at dawn, clattering around, drunk or high, waking them both up.
Andi was having a big meeting with her boss today to try to convince him to include one of her designs in his next collection.
Pab knew that but it didn’t stop him banging on about what a great set he’d had when all they wanted to do was sleep.
She let herself into the flat with the spare key that had been cut for her.
Andi was going to be back a bit later tonight so Ursula had offered to cook dinner.
She’d stopped at a good supermarket in the West End for ingredients and wine.
She wanted to cook something nice for her friend, but given the limited cooking facilities, she was going for a simple and easy to cook pasta.
The stereo was on, another tune Ursula didn’t recognise, and a half-empty mug of coffee had been left on the floor by the armchair.
Other than that, the flat seemed empty, but she shouted: ‘I’m back,’ all the same.
No one answered but she knew Pab couldn’t be far away.
She took out the ingredients and a bottle of wine and started preparing dinner.
She was in the middle of chopping the vegetables when Pablo came in. He didn’t notice her until he got to the gap in the screen. ‘Fuck! You scared the life out of me.’ He had a towel wrapped around his lower half. He must have been taking a shower.
‘Sorry. I’m making dinner.’
He came over to the table where she was working. ‘What you making?’
‘Beef ragu.’
‘Nice.’ He stood right next to her, his bare skin almost touching her, and he reached around for the wine bottle. ‘Good wine as well. You’ve got expensive tastes, Ursula.’
‘Not really. I just wanted to spoil Andi. It’s an important day for her today.’
‘Oh yeah. Shame I won’t be here. I’ve got a big night tonight. Could get an Ibiza contract out of it.’ He opened the bottle and poured himself a glass. ‘You want some?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll wait, thanks.’
‘You know your problem, Ursula? You’re a real knockout but you’re uptight.
You wanna let your hair down occasionally.
’ He grabbed her arm. ‘You should come out dancing. I know you like dancing. Andi’s told me all about you and her.
Right couple of ravers, weren’t yer?’ He wiggled his hips and the towel shifted slightly.
She pulled her arm away. ‘You’re losing your towel.’
‘Whoops.’ He was laughing as he went into the bedroom. She noticed he’d left the door open again. He kept doing this when Andi wasn’t here. One time, he left it wide open and was walking around the bedroom stark naked, even though he knew she could see him.
He came out in just his underpants, turned the stereo up, and stood there for a while, drinking wine and scratching his arse, watching her chop onions. She kept her eyes on the table and carried on working away with the knife.
When he came out of the bedroom again, he was fully dressed.
He moved closer to her, so close his aftershave tickled her nostrils.
Then he leaned across her to pour another glass of wine, before drinking it in one go and dropping a flyer on the table.
‘This is where I’m playing tonight. Tell Andi to bring you down. You’ll love it.’
‘Will do,’ she said, as he went out the door with his cases of records.
She listened for the downstairs door slamming, then rushed over to the front windows.
He was on the other side of the road, loading the cases into his car.
He looked up. Ursula stepped back but it was too late, his grin told her he’d seen her.
It was a wicked and lecherous grin that made her shiver.
She closed her eyes and made herself small against the wall.
She saw Anton smiling at her, the way he used to when he realised she was teasing him, and she wondered if he was missing her.
She chanced another look outside. Pablo’s car was gone, but she could still smell him. His aftershave was clinging to her. She went to find a clean top and wondered how much longer she’d be able to stay here.