Se* & *rugs & Rock & Roll and Nursing

Chapter6

A MONTH AFTER DOING THE dirty, Lisa told me she loved me. Came out of nowhere, really. Walking through the Meadows on a bright spring afternoon – heading to the Golf Tavern for a drink. Daffodils lined the footpath. I plucked one, presenting it to her as if it was the crown f*****g jewels.

“Thank you, M’lord.”

She curtsied.

I laughed.

“Calum, I love you.”

What the f**k did she just say? Had to ask her to repeat her words.

We stopped walking. She put her hands on my cheeks.

“Calum Robertson, I love you.” I kissed her quickly, hoping to trap the words and keep them in my soul.

What did I say? What I should’ve said was, ‘My darling Lisa, the last couple of months have been the best I’ve had in my short life. I love you too.’ What I said was, “Thank f**k for that.” We laughed, and I told her I loved her too – that I fell in love with her on the Christmas night out. She was happy – I was f*****g ecstatic. We got totally hammered in the Golf and spent the weekend in bed. That’s how beautiful it was. How simple it was. f*****g perfect.

It wasn’t too long before I f****d up again.

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Man, I was needing to move out of the home. Over an eighteen-month period, I’d slept with five girls in the building. One more than once. The most recent was a brand-new first-year student who didn’t know any better – I should say, didn’t know me better. Met her on a night out at the Pear Tree and I fancied her. Felt doubly bad, as I know she wanted more. Both of us were pretty steaming. Ended up meeting her a few weeks later in the hospital shop. f**k. There were no escape routes – I was trapped. She had tears in her eyes. I felt f*****g awful, trying to placate her – failing miserably. The worst of it? I was apologising like mad whilst checking out her body. She was cute, short blonde hair and big steel- blue eyes. Water-filled eyes. I was thinking about shagging her, feeling guilty about Lisa, feeling sorry for them both, all at the same time. f**k’s sake man. Living in the home became a f*****g nightmare. Had to avoid certain floors – scared I’d meet one of my one-night stand girls. On my floor, I was slinking about like a ninja. The number of times I stood outside, hiding – f*****g crazy man. I must’ve spent hours watching and waiting for the coast to be clear. A change was needed. I had to get out of there; it was too f*****g stressful. I scanned the Evening News every night for new digs. Most of my work was at the Royal, and I wanted to be within walking distance of the hospital. My search focused on Marchmont and Bruntsfield – not the cheapest of areas.

My nonsense wasn’t confined to the nurses’ home – it happened anywhere, wherever the opportunity raised its sexy head. s*x was easy to find man. I shagged a lassie who was staying in the same building as my pal, Ben. He lived in The Clifton Hotel, off Leith Walk. ‘Hotel’ was stretching it a bit – it was a huge townhouse with rooms converted into single and double bedsits. Walking through the once white, main door, a large hallway with a curved staircase greeted you – every inch of the floor was covered in a purple shag pile carpet that had seen better days. Looked like it had never seen a hoover and was tacky under-foot – if you stood in one spot long enough, you’d be super-glued to the f*****g spot. Ben shared with Alec, another pal from Portree; they were at Napier University. Both smart and funny guys – I did my best to hang out with them when I could. My best pal from school, Dougie, had stayed on the island to run his family’s shop in Kensaleyre and to work their croft. I admired him for it. Dougie was sharp as a scythe and funny as f**k. He’d planned to go to Glasgow University to study history but changed his mind when his father fell ill. I was surprised; he was looking forward to Glasgow, and we were looking forward to seeing each other in both cities and going out on the piss. In the end, he was happy to stay on Skye – and I was happy for him.

Anyway, it was a weekday afternoon; I was on days off and I’d met Ben for a greasy brunch at a café on Elm Row. We fancied an afternoon pint or two; Ben needed to go back to the Clifton to get more cash. At the front door, we ran into two lassies, who asked us for directions to London Road. Ben, in his typical highland helpful style, told them to wait a minute and we’d walk them there. They were looking to buy clothes in a charity shop – common amongst students; not me though. Second-hand clothes? f**k that. Both lassies were nice, friendly as f**k, studying in Glasgow. One was from Fort William, the other from the Isle of Mull. Reaching London Road, Ben invited them for a drink in the Stage Door, pointing in the Playhouse’s direction. They said maybe they’d come later. We stood watching them from behind. Typical f*****g guys.

I’d love to shag the tall one,” said Ben. They looked about the same height to me. He meant the girl wearing the short skirt and leggings, not the one in the army fatigues. I said nothing. I preferred the green trousers girl. Checking out her arse – it looked like she wasn’t wearing knickers. The Stage Door was a local for Ben, small with a good mix of punters – there was never any trouble. We ordered Tennents Special with a “Slainte” and a smile and were on our second pint when in walked our two new female friends. Waving them over – we bought them a drink. We ended up getting completely stocious, and I got close to my army- trouser-wearing pal. The lassies were starving, so we finished our pints and made our way to the Indian restaurant across from the pub – stuffing our faces with korma and naan. On the walk back to the Clifton, I only had one thing on my mind – and it wasn’t Lisa.

Things got a wee bit tricky. Turns out one of them was visiting her boyfriend in the Clifton – my wee green fatigue- wearing friend. Ben invited them to his room to smoke a joint or two, and they were totally up for it. The lassie with the boyfriend had her hand in my back trouser pocket – a sure sign it was on. We had to sneak past her boyfriend’s room – difficult when you’re steaming. We made it, laughing like f**k when we got in the room. Alec was at his girlfriend’s. Their place was a f*****g mess, as per usual. Albums, strewn across the floor; a pile of dirty clothes beside a pile of clean clothes. The carpet was bald in several places and pep- pered with ash – no doubt from Ben’s dope- smoking. He was a bit of a fiend when it came to hash. Me? Not so much. I had had a couple of serious whiteys in the past – in that very room. I knew I’d be ok if I only took a couple of puffs. Ben fired up his record deck – Aztec Camera’s High Land, Hard Rain. He used the cover to roll a medium-sized spliff. The only furniture in the room was a chest of drawers, an ancient-looking wardrobe, and two tatty wicker chairs that looked like they’d fall apart if sat on. Two single beds filled the rest of the space. I was lying on Alec’s bed with Miss green-army-trousers. After the second joint, Ben changed the tunes to Porcupine by Echo and the Bunnymen. Classic album man. The Cutter’s a brilliant song. I was spooning with the lassie whose boyfriend was directly below us – no doubt awaiting her return. She was pushing her arse into my groin, and it was obvious something would happen. But where? No way was I going to shag in front of my pal and his new friend. Ben got up, taking the tall girl by the hand, saying he wanted to show her where the bathroom was. Strange, it was at the end of the corridor – every floor in the Clifton was the same.

“We could be some time,” he said. Cheeky f*****g grin on his face.

It clicked – he was taking her for a shag in the bog. Rather him than me. Miss green-army-trousers turned to face me, and we started snogging. The dope had given me the horn; the alcohol imprisoned the memory of Lisa. Not being sure how long Ben would take, I made a move with my hand – squeezing it in through the waist of her army fatigues. She wasn’t wearing knickers – f*****g knew it. Palm resting on her fanny; forefinger pushing between her lips. Man, there’s nothing more exciting than getting your hand on a new fanny. Nothing f*****g beats it. Her hand was on my crotch, rubbing my d**k. Fanny wet. My excitement level – f*****g high. My other hand slipped under her t-shirt. No bra. t**s – small and soft. My finger traced the outline of her n****e. She undid her trousers – pulling them below her knees. She sucked my tongue, and I undid my jeans. Button, belt, and zip. Her hands pulled them over my arse. Between her legs was a dark forest of hair. I rolled on top. Her legs opened as wide as she could – the fatigues restricted movement. Breathing, hot and hard into my neck. Her hand grabbed at my d**k. Pulling me in. Tight, wet. I pumped. Her hands clenched my arse cheeks, squeezing had – it made me want to come. Licking her face, I told her I was coming. She pushed into me – I came she rubbed hard on my pubic bone – grinding for a minute or two. Releasing a sigh, she trembled under me. When a smiling Ben and his bird returned, we’d zipped and buttoned up, looking innocent as f**k. We smoked another joint before the girls crept through the dark corridor towards the boyfriend’s room. Ben wanted me to stay – I couldn’t. Needed to get back to the nurses’ home. f*****g guilt man. I threw up at the top of Leith Walk. Serves me f*****g right.

I met up with Lisa the next day and felt gruesome. Guilt wracked my body. We went to bed early; my sleep was what I deserved – dreams of Lisa crying. In the morning I had to get back to mine to change for a late shift. Lisa slept, and I silently heaved green bile into her toilet. Brushing my teeth, I glared in the mirror – calling myself a stupid cunt – almost out loud.

Kissing my sleeping girl – I left.

Just my f*****g luck. At the main door of the home, I met the first-year student. She looked happier than the last time I saw her.

“Hello! Gotta go. Late for work,” I said, running up the stairs like a madman. Changing into my uniform – I thought about how good she looked.