Look, Francis

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23

Look, Francis

she wants it &
she wants it now
she wants it
& she’ll tell you how

she wants it in
the afternoon
she wants it slow
& quick & soon

she wants it soft
she wants it rough
she wants it
till she’s had enough

she wants it loud
& silenced too
but more than it
she must have you

*

Three weekends after the Flood, Francis and Cody spend the evening at home together. It is very windy outside and every now and then the house shudders. There is a bottle of wine nearly empty on the floor between them. Francis is berating Cody for having enjoyed a recently fashionable book which is not only sentimental, falsely optimistic and clumsily written—

—But face it, it’s also fundamentally morally flawed.

You’re morally flawed.

—Don’t be so facile.

—Don’t be so anal.

—Jargon-monger.

—Pedant.

—Fashion victim.

—Bore.

—They glare at each other across the room. Francis clears his throat.

24

—Look, he says, —We could sit here hurling insults at each other all night but I’d much rather go to bed with you.

—I’d much rather eat my own vomit.

—I find that hard to believe.

—I find you hard to believe.

—Stop it.

Cody pours herself some more wine, finishing the bottle. She is desperate for a cigarette. She sighs. The sigh goes on longer than she expected and she is suddenly afraid she might cry. She stands up. Francis stands up. He looks out the window.

—I’m sorry.

—For what, says Cody.

—That was a particularly charmless proposal. I didn’t mean to assume—

Cody goes to the window and stands behind Francis. She strokes the back of his head, down to his neck. She sees Francis’s reflection in the window. He has closed his eyes.

—Don’t assume anything, she tells him. —And don’t talk.

She leads him carefully to his bedroom. He opens his eyes.

*

An aerial photograph of a city at night-time.

Dear Cody

How are you darling? I miss you. I miss Thea too, more than I expected. I might have a job!—details later if it works out. When are you coming over? I miss you

Thea

PS I love Sydney

PPS Are you being careful?

*

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About this page...

Title: Not Her Real Name

Author: Emily Perkins

In: Sport 11: Spring 1993

Publication details: Fergus Barrowman, Wellington

Part of: Sport

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