Katy
I wake up to find him already awake and staring at me. I quickly cover my face with the duvet.
‘Why are you staring at me?’ I grunt. We might have masturbated together last night but this morning all of my regular awkward feelings for him are back. I can’t believe I did that in front of him. I can’t even blame the alcohol.
He grins. ‘Just watching you dribble and wondering when you were going to wake up. I didn’t want to start banging around and wake you up in a terrible mood.’
‘Oh. That’s very thoughtful of you.’
‘I’m a very thoughtful guy. You should know that by now.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Whatever. I suppose I can really get to know you once we get to your parents' house tonight. See all of your embarrassing family photos.’
His face drops. ‘They might have raised me, but that doesn’t mean they know me, Katy.’
‘Do you not get on with them?’
He sighs. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘O…kay. Anyway, let's get ready.’
* * *
After an awkward breakfast on my part—he clearly has no shame—we’re waiting in reception of St Saviours school. It looks pretty posh here. Yet, instead of a regular interview we’re having an informal workshop. I hate these things. They say they’re informal, but they’re always judging you, following you around like a creepy psychologist watching animals in a zoo.
‘Good morning, everyone,’ a lady says, walking into the room dressed in a tight navy pencil skirt and sharp white shirt.
Oh my God. Why does she seem familiar?
‘Fuck,’ I hear Felix gasp.
‘What is it?’ I whisper at him.
‘It’s the Domme from last night.’
My eyes widen. I turn back to look at her. The Domme? I look at her face, and although last night it was partly obscured by a mask, I can still make out it’s the woman that showed us to our ‘watching booth’. I’d recognise those piercing green eyes anywhere. Oh my God. How the hell can this woman be running this workshop?
‘Today I’d like you to get into pairs and await further instruction.’
Felix bumps me on the shoulder. ‘Better the devil you know.’
I smile faintly back. ‘Do you think she recognises us?’
‘We’ll soon find out.’
‘You two.’ I look up to see that she’s pointing at us. ‘If you could come centre stage please.’
I bet she’s used to stages, dirty bitch. I try to work out if she’s recognised us and plans on humiliating us, but she has a poker face.
Felix nudges me forward. I attempt to snap myself out of it and walk into the middle of the circle of people, feeling like I’m about to be eaten by lions.
‘Now,’ she continues. ‘I want you to imagine yourself as an animal. Don’t tell us, or your partner what you are.’
An animal? Shit. Okay, think, think. Panda. That’s the only animal I can think of right now.
‘I want you to act out your animal to your partner, without making any noise.’
‘So, sort of like charades?’ Felix checks.
‘Exactly,’ she nods. ‘You just sit back and watch.’
Wait a second, was that a reference to us watching last night?
I can feel the back of my neck sweating. I pull my hair back with my emergency hair scrunchie. Right, how the hell do I act like a panda?
What the hell do I know about them? I’ve only ever saw them plodding around in zoo’s eating bamboo. That’s it! I’ll eat bamboo!
So I pretend to yank a piece of a tree, wrapping my hand around it and bringing it to my mouth. I pretend to bite and chew, before repeating the whole thing again. Felix looks at me with raised eyebrows, a confused expression on his face. Jesus, why did I have to pick something so difficult? But I’ve committed now.
‘Start guessing, Felix,’ the lady instructs.
‘Err… a bear?’
I shake my head.
‘Try describing what she’s doing,’ she says forcibly.
I can tell he’s starting to panic now too, although he’s trying to cover it with a bemused mask.
‘Umm… well, if anything, it looks like she’s giving the world’s worst blow job.’
Silence descends upon the room. Did he seriously just say that?
The lady’s eyebrows raise. ‘Is he close?’ she asks me with amusement.
‘I’m a panda!’ I shout. ‘A fucking panda! Why the hell would you think of a blow job?’
‘Sorry,’ he grimaces. ‘But come on, what the hell were you doing?’
‘I was eating bamboo, you idiot.’
‘Okay,’ the woman claps, obviously bored of our little shit show. ‘This exercise was to see how intuitive you are and how you can work as a team. I’m assuming you two know each other; which is strange as you don’t seem to be intuitive to each other at all.’
I glare at him. Well, he’s fucked this up for us.
We have to sit through everyone else doing stupid animal impressions. They all obviously go for far easier animals like cats and dogs. Why didn’t I think to be a dog? Or a cat, licking themselves? It would have been easy. Although knowing Felix, he’d have shouted out something ridiculous like ‘vagina licking!’ What is wrong with that bloody man!
‘Well, that was a complete waste of time,’ I whinge once we’re in the car. ‘And we only have one hundred quid left. I was kind of hoping I’d have been offered a job by now.’
‘The competition is tough though,’ he says with a wink.
‘Why on earth would you shout out blow job? I mean, of all the things to say in a job interview.’
‘Don’t make out it wasn’t in reference to what you were doing. You should have seen yourself.’ He doubles over laughing.
‘Ha ha, very funny. Just let it be noted that you screwed this up for us.’
‘It was fucked from the minute that woman walked in. Are you honestly telling me she’d consider hiring two people who she’d seen the night before at a sex show?'
I cringe. ‘God, I still can’t believe we went.’
‘Well, brace yourself. If you think that was shocking, wait 'til you meet my parents.’
* * *
We pull up outside a semi, situated on a busy main road, after yet another long-arsed drive. I look up at the red peeling front door, at the overgrown bushes crowding around the windows. It’s not the homeliest looking place in the world.
‘You ready for my parents?’ he asks, carrying our bags to the front door.
‘What, do they have three heads or something?’
He scoffs. ‘I wish it was that explainable. They’re just… shall we say, set in their ways?’
He lets himself in and I follow him through to the sitting room.
‘Hello?’ he calls.
‘Hiya, love,’ a blonde lady in her fifties says from the sofa. ‘We weren’t expecting you 'til later.’ She stands up, cigarette still in her hand, to hug him. Then she turns her attention on me. ‘And you must be his lady friend, Catherine.’
‘Oh hi, but it's just Katy.’
‘Don’t sell yourself short with a nickname, my darlin’. Look at the Duchess of Cambridge. She used to go by Kate, but now she’s gone back to Catherine. Far more regal, if you ask me.’
Felix rolls his eyes. ‘Mum loves the royal family,’ he explains.
‘Who bloody doesn’t! Am I right?’ She laughs. ‘Am I right, Catherine?’
I laugh. ‘But seriously, I was christened Katy.’
She reacts in horror as if I’ve slapped her. ‘Sorry? You were christened Katy? Why on earth would your mother do that to you?’
‘Er… I don’t know,’ I shrug. ‘Just liked it, I guess.’
‘What’s your siblings names?’ she asks in amusement.
‘My sister is called Victoria.’
‘There we go! A real regal name right there. I wonder why your mum decided to give you such a common name next to her. How strange.’
‘Mum!’ Felix says, ‘stop will you. Katy is our guest.’
‘She knows I’m only joking, don’t you love?’ She smiles like we’re both in on some inside joke.
‘Of course,’ I smile.
‘Where’s Dad anyway?’
The front door suddenly slams. ‘Ah, here he is.’
A portly man that Felix looks a lot like, comes walking in cursing to himself.
‘Oh, hi mate,’ he says to Felix, giving him an awkward pat on the back.
‘You alright, Dad?’
‘Ah, just having trouble with those bloody Eastern Europeans again.’ He rolls his eyes.
‘Sorry?’ I ask. Is his Dad some kind of racist or something?
‘Mainly the Polish around here,’ his Dad confirms. ‘Bringing this bloody area down with their Polish markets. It’s a disgrace if you ask me. I’m glad we’re having Brexit. I just wish they’d ship the lot of them back.’
Wow. So his Dad is a racist.
‘Anyway, Dad, it's getting late. We’re gonna head up to bed.’
‘You must be hungry,’ his mum says. ‘I’m sure Katy here would like some food.’
I grin eagerly. ‘Yes please.’ Right now, I’m so hungry I don’t care if I have to listen to more racist rants. Just put food in my belly.
The meal is fairly pleasant. I feel sorry for Felix who keeps cringing every time his parents say something embarrassing. Which is kind of every single sentence that leaves their mouths.
His parents hug us goodnight before we make our way upstairs.
‘Sorry about them,’ he says, with a sad smile.
‘Hey, they’re your parents. Nothing to apologise for. We can’t choose them.’ I smile back at him in what I hope is a reassuring manner.