Teach Me Dirty

“Mr Roberts!” His eyes flew wide as his predicament dawned, and he dropped to the floor, wrestling with his underpants to gain back a sliver of modesty. “Sir, I’m sorry, I…”

“Go!” I said. “Back inside!”

“But Helen… but…”

“Inside!” I said, and shoved him towards his destination.

He shot Helen a pitiful glance and hurried away, fastening his belt as he went. I waited until he was well out of sight before I turned around.

She remained perched on the edge of the picnic bench, smoothing down her crumpled dress and pulling her straps back up. Her mouth was puffy and her hair was dishevelled, eyes big and scared as she stared up at me from the shadows. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and focused on her creamy skin, the frantic rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath.

“What the hell were you doing? Helen, what the hell were you thinking?”

“What the hell do you care?” She folded her arms across her breasts.

“Of course I care. You think this is acceptable? Fucking some drunken idiot on a picnic bench while the rest of the year cheers you on from the sidelines? Is that what you want?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Oh come on, Helen. You’re better than this. You’re so much better than this!”

“Am I?!” she snapped. “Am I better than this?! I don’t feel better than this!” Her eyes were glistening. “Maybe I don’t want to be better than this! Maybe I want to be normal!”

I leaned in to her, and her breath was nothing but alcohol fumes. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I’m legal, legal for booze, legal for everything.”

“I don’t give a shit if you’re legal or not. How much have you had to drink?”

She shrugged again. “A bit.”

I took her elbow, and she was cold, her skin goose-pimpled. “Where’s your coat? Do you have a coat?”

“Dunno. Somewhere. A shrug thing.”

“Where?”

She tipped forward on the bench, lurching about the place. “Can’t remember. Inside somewhere.”

I couldn’t hide my frustration, hissing out a sigh as I shrugged off my jacket and draped it around her shoulders. I guided her arms through the sleeves, and she was a flutter of dithery limbs, weightless. “You’re going home. I’ll find your shrug later.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, Helen,” I said. “You’re going home right now. Shall I call your parents?”

Oh the horror, her eyes flew wide. “No! Please! Not my dad!”

“What, then? You can’t just walk home alone.”

“Lizzie’s,” she said. “I’ll go to Lizzie’s. She lives at Lawnside…”

Lawnside wasn’t far. You could practically see the flats from the Three Friars’ car park. “Alright.”

“Don’t be mad…” she said, reaching out to pull at my cuff. “I don’t want you to be angry… please…”

“I’m worried. There’s a big difference.”

“I’m ok…” she whispered. “He didn’t… we didn’t…” She took a breath. “I’m still a…” And then she crumpled and the tears came, drunk emotional tears that rolled down her flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to be, but I still am. I’m still a stupid virgin.”

I took her by the shoulders. “And you’ll be glad you still are when you sober up.”

I caught some movement on the edges of the lawn, a couple of nosey parkers trying their luck. I took a few steps towards them and they scurried back, but not before I managed to bark out my request.

“Can someone find Elizabeth Thomas, please? I need Elizabeth Thomas here, now.”

“Don’t…” Helen said. “Lizzie will have to leave, too!”

“Maybe you should have thought about that earlier.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry.” She pulled my jacket tighter around her. “I’m just… I dunno… I dunno what I am anymore…”

“Drunk,” I said. “You’re drunk.”

It didn’t take long for word to reach Elizabeth, she came tottering across the grass with a cigarette in her hand. She had her collar up against the cold, dressed much more for the weather than her sweet little friend was.

“Helen? Hels?”

“She’s alright,” I said. “But she’s ready to go home now, are you able to take her to yours? She tells me you live at Lawnside?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yeah, just down the road… I can take her…” She reached for Helen, yanked her up by her arm. “Come on, Hels, let’s get you sobered up.”

I took Helen’s other arm, holding her steady as she found her feet. It felt as though the whole place was staring as we made our way under the patio heaters and out to the car park, but I was long past caring. Helen tried to shrug my jacket off at the entrance, but I pulled it back around her and buttoned it up. I fished my wallet, cigarettes and keys from the pockets.

“Keep it,” I said. “You’ll catch your death.”

“But what about you?”

I hadn’t even noticed the chill, my heart was still pounding and my whole body felt wired. “I’ll be fine.” I looked at Elizabeth and she seemed sober enough. “Take care of her. I’ll watch you both down the road.”