Life and Limb Read Online Free Page B

didn’t either. There was half a beer in front of him; he took the glass in his hand and nodded to her in greeting.
    All of a sudden she knew it would be him, although if anyone had asked her why she would have found it difficult to answer. It wasn’t his appearance. He was muscular in that square way but not very tall, and his face was nothing special. Nice enough with a slightly flat nose – maybe the result of an earlier encounter with a fist – and high cheekbones. His hair was mousey and very short. Perhaps it was his clothes that attracted her. She had seen the Pringle logo on his yellow jumper from a distance. Black jeans and heavy black boots completed the impression of a staged presentation. Not uninteresting, but nothing to write home about. Who could she have written to, anyway?
    â€˜Thank you.’
    She formed the word with an exaggerated pout of the lips and met his eyes. His eyes were brown in that cool way where the expression drowns in the darkness. She supposed it was always the eyes. That was where the danger lay, and his gleamed in a special way she liked.
    Kiki went to the toilet, took off her underpants and stuffed them in her bag. She quickly freshened her lipstick without dawdling in front of the mirror; she only had time to see her face and read its expression. There was no law saying she had to stay with her friends every minute of the hen’s night.
    She knew he would still be there on her return. He was waiting. Beside him there was another beer, and he pointed to it and looked at her.
    She adjusted her silk dress, which had ridden up. She could see he knew she wasn’t wearing underwear, or else he was hoping.
    â€˜What’s your name, then?’ he asked after she took the beer.
    â€˜Kiki.’
    He squeezed her hand and gave a little bow. Not for fun; he was just the type that did that kind of thing. She felt that, at any rate.
    â€˜Johnny,’ he said in reply.
    She liked the name even though she had an inkling it was fake. It smacked of truck driver and engine oil, yet she could see by his hands that they probably didn’t work on cars.
    â€˜And what kind of guy are you, Johnny?’
    He looked at her.
    â€˜Do you really want to know? Or is this superficial small talk?’
    â€˜It’s purely superficial, and I want to know.’
    She tasted the beer. It was freezing cold; refreshing. His playing heightened her interest. He came over as tough and quick. In him she recognised her own hunger.
    â€˜Job-wise I’m a health worker up at the Kommunehospital, what they used to call a porter in the old days. Privately, I’m so much more.’
    â€˜Such as what?’
    â€˜Football fan. Casual. Dog owner. Flat owner. Sex games fan. Coffee brewer. Whip owner. Son. Brother. Nephew. Even though my family can go to hell.’
    â€˜What do you mean by “casual”?’ she asked, but there were several other words whirling around her head and sending hot fluids through her body.
    He leaned towards her. He seemed to be able to compress the air between them. His face came close to hers, and his eyes smiled, clear and bright.
    â€˜I’ll tell you later.’
    â€˜Later?’
    â€˜At my place.’
    He nodded towards her hand. She had taken off her wedding ring, but the mark was still there.
    â€˜I assume your husband’s not interested in my company.’
    She thought, Well, you never know … It wouldn’t be the first time, but she wanted to keep this guy for herself for as long as she could. She sipped her beer and discreetly wiped the froth off her top lip while sitting up on a bar stool and very slowly crossing her legs.
    â€˜Where do you live?’
    â€˜By the station. What about a dance?’
    It was the finale of the gig and people were finally beginning to fill the little dance floor. She could see both Susanne and Nina out there. She slipped down from the stool. On her way to the dance floor she