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Authors: Haley Hill

Love Is... (27 page)

BOOK: Love Is...
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Matthew laughed. ‘I'm worried about me too,' he said.

I reached across and squeezed his hand. ‘So what's happened? I thought the reconciliation was going well.'

‘It was,' he said.

‘What went wrong?'

He looked down. ‘I don't want to talk about it.'

I frowned. ‘You said you didn't want to talk about it on the phone. We're not on the phone any more.'

‘You're right, Ellie, a tacky hovel of a nightclub is the perfect setting to discuss my issues with impotence.'

I stood upright. ‘What?'

He raised his hand. ‘My name is Matthew and I'm impotent.'

I shook my head. ‘Since when?'

‘Since I haven't been able to have sex with my wife.'

‘Just her?'

Matthew sighed. ‘Yeah, her, along with fifteen hookers, four exes and a Shetland pony.' He stared at me. ‘Of course just my wife, Ellie. I'm not some kind of soulless manwhore.'

I took a breath. ‘She can't really blame you. It's pretty obvious what the cause is.'

Matthew nodded. ‘I know. Every time we tried, you know, all I could think about was sweaty Nigel pumping away at her.'

I squeezed his hand tighter. ‘She should understand that surely?'

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nope. She just cried and said that I didn't find her sexy any more.'

I tutted. ‘That's not really fair, is it?'

He shrugged his shoulders again. ‘Doesn't matter if it's fair or not. It is what it is. She shagged her boss, so I can't shag her any more even though I want to, so she's now shagging her boss again because I can't shag her because she shagged her boss. There's some bloody irony for you there.'

Dominic laid a tray of drinks down on the table next to us. ‘If a double Jägerbomb doesn't wipe that smarmy cunt from your mind, then I don't know what will, mate,' he said, handing Matthew a glass.

Matthew downed his straight away, then rubbed his temples. ‘Must pace myself,' he mumbled, ‘so I can chaperone you two.' Then he fell backwards and passed out on a nearby sofa.

Chapter 22

T
he next morning, I poked my head out from the duvet and the icy air sent me straight back under again. I reached an arm out to grab my phone and felt the duvet move on the other side of the bed. I peered over my shoulder and saw a shock of dark brown hair on the pillow next to me. My stomach flipped and I hid back under the duvet, scenes from a steamy spring flashing through my mind.

Just as I was trying to wipe the images from my mind, my phone began to vibrate in my hand. It was Nick. Before I could decide otherwise, I'd answered.

‘Hi,' I whispered.

‘Hi, gorgeous,' Nick said. ‘How are you?'

‘All good, thanks,' I said. ‘You?'

Nick laughed. ‘I'm fine,' he said and then paused. ‘Apart from the fact my errant wife hasn't been returning my calls.' He paused again. ‘Not to mention the slurred voicemail I received last night from her best friend Matthew telling me
I needed to come to Iceland. Something about an emergent tree? Or an emergency, I couldn't quite decipher.'

I felt the mattress bounce so I glanced over my shoulder.

‘Ellie? Are you there?' Nick asked.

I heard a muffled yawn.

‘Yes, I'm here.'

‘Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?'

‘Nothing,' I said, an image of Dominic's glistening chest returning to my mind. ‘I'm in bed. Can I call you later?'

Nick huffed. ‘Sure, but Jenna and I are heading out to a conference in Washington later.'

I reached out and put my phone back on the side, before catching a glimpse of a fur gilet hanging over a chair in the corner of the room. Instantly, my panic lifted. It was only Matthew.

I rolled over and slowly peeled the duvet off him.

He was curled in the foetal position, and wearing two layers of thermals. The vivid images of Dominic and I in the spring began to fade as my consciousness sharpened and I began to accurately recall the previous night's events.

I leaned forward and prodded Matthew. ‘Wake up,' I said.

Matthew rubbed his eyes, and then smiled. ‘You're here,' he said, stretching his arms above his head.

‘I am.'

‘Phew,' he said, pulling himself up against the headboard. ‘I had a dream that my chaperoning skills had been compromised by Jägerbombs.'

I laughed. ‘You were useless before the Jägerbombs. Lucky, I'm not as morally repugnant as you first thought.' Then I jumped out of bed. My head throbbed with the sudden movement. I shook it, hoping to clear my conscience too. I may not have physically shared a bed with Dominic,
but that night, in my dreams, I'd done just about everything else.

At breakfast, even though Matthew was positioned between us, I could barely make eye contact with Dominic. When he spoke, I had intense flashbacks of him kissing my neck in my dream, which if I didn't quickly redirect my focus to Matthew's fur gilet, would progress to him kissing the rest of my body.

Feeling my cheeks redden, I poured myself a coffee and focused my attention on Matthew. ‘So you're really flying back today?' I asked him, recalling snippets of a Brennivín-blurred conversation from the night before.

He nodded, staring down into his coffee cup.

Dominic turned to him. ‘What are you going to do, mate?'

Immediately, I envisaged Nick sitting with us, rolling his eyes and mimicking the term ‘mate'.

Matthew sighed. ‘I don't know.'

Dominic leaned back in his chair. My thoughts continued to wander. I hadn't called Nick back yet. However, I reasoned he was probably on a plane with Jenna now anyway. In business class no doubt, drinking gin and tonics while intelligently debating a feature in the
New York Times.
Dominic lifted his arms up behind his head and I found myself staring at the strip of stomach exposed.

Matthew leaned in and waved his hand in front of my face. ‘Ellie, are you with us?'

I glanced up and nodded.

Matthew continued to stare at me, as though demanding further explanation. Eventually, he gave up and turned back to Dominic.

‘So, what would you do if you were me?' Matthew asked him.

Dominic leaned back a little further, exposing another inch of stomach.

‘You really want to know what I would do?'

Matthew nodded.

Dominic leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. ‘I'd knock back some super-strength Viagra, storm into Center Parcs and bang all traces of that smarmy git out of her.' He paused and then sniffed. ‘This should never have been allowed to happen in the first place. She's your wife.'

I stared at Dominic open-mouthed.

‘I'd lose the furry waistcoat first though,' Dominic added.

Matthew examined his gilet as though looking for clues.

I shook my head at Dominic. ‘Seriously? That's your advice?'

Dominic shrugged. ‘He didn't ask for my advice. He asked me what I would do.'

I raised my eyebrows. ‘OK then. Clearly you're the expert.'

Dominic reached under the table. He reappeared with a stack of napkins and handed them to me. They had scribbles all over them.

‘Talking of experts,' Dominic said. ‘Here are my notes from last night.'

I frowned. ‘What notes?'

‘Your interviews,' he said. ‘You asked me to take notes.'

I frowned again. ‘What interviews?'

He laughed. ‘Don't you remember? Before you let us go home, you insisted on interviewing all the couples in the club to ask them about their views on marriage and lasting love. You kept saying, “Dominic, are you getting all this? Dominic, write it down.”' He chuckled. ‘You were very focused.'

‘What was I doing?' Matthew chipped in.

‘Sleeping. On the sofa,' Dominic said. ‘You passed out after the first Jägerbomb.'

Matthew mumbled a suggestion that his drink must have been spiked.

Dominic laughed loudly. ‘By who? A sexual predator with a thing for rabbit fur?'

I flicked through the napkins and read what Dominic had written. There was impressive clarity considering his likely blood alcohol levels and the low lighting in the bar. He'd even collated the results and put them into a pie chart on the final napkin. Directly below an Icelandic name and a phone number.

I held up the napkin to Dominic and pointed at the number. ‘I assume this is the blonde from the bar?' I asked.

He leaned forward to look and then laughed. ‘Could be,' he said, looking up at me and grinning. ‘You're not jealous, are you?'

I tutted. ‘Of course not,' I said, screwing the napkin into a ball. ‘I just don't think she's your type, that's all.'

Matthew glared at me.

‘What?' I said. ‘I just think he could do better.'

Matthew shook his head. ‘My work here is done,' he said. He stood up and shook Dominic's hand. ‘Nice to meet you,' he said, before turning to me. ‘Eleanor Rigby,' he said, throwing his arms around my neck. ‘A pleasure as always.'

When he pulled away, he looked me in the eye as though he were about to say something profound, but instead he just patted my back and then left, snakeskin suitcase trundling behind him.

It wasn't until after a protracted debate with the hotel manager regarding the minibar bill that Dominic and I were
free to head off to the airport. Our flight to Tokyo was in two hours and Professor Takahashi's secretary had already called us several times to ensure I was on schedule. She seemed greatly offended that we hadn't agreed to use the personalised Takahashi Diary App, with inbuilt geolocator and algorithms, to predict our likelihood of punctuality.

In the taxi, Dominic rubbed his eyes and yawned.

‘So this guy is a robot designer?' he asked.

I flicked through the file on my lap and reread the entry Mandi had written about Professor Takahashi's research.

‘He's a human behaviourist who is building technology to enhance romantic relationships,' I said and then put the file down.

Dominic rubbed his eyes again. ‘What does that mean? He makes high-tech dildos?'

I glared at him. ‘Why do you have to be so crude? Not everything is about sex, you know.'

Dominic laughed. ‘Yes, it is.'

I flipped open the file again and reread the entry. ‘Look,' I said pointing at the page. ‘It says here, the majority of his research is into the non-verbal cues that are vital to human communication.'

Dominic snorted. ‘Well,' he said, suddenly waving his phone at me, ‘according to Wikipedia, Professor Takahashi has developed an advanced virtual intercourse experience.'

I shook my head. ‘It means verbal intercourse, obviously.'

Dominic laughed again. ‘Really? What's with the naked girl in the picture then? And the guy with electrodes on his cock?'

I snatched the phone off him and scrolled through the images. Next to the video image of a spreadeagled woman, there was a man wearing a headset, with electrodes on his
privates and a smile on his face. I realised that this must have been the researcher that Debbie from Hooters had been referring to.

I handed the phone back to Dominic and shook my head.

‘What?' he asked. ‘How can you not think this is totally awesome? I seriously can't wait to meet this guy.'

I stared at him, wondering for a moment what precisely it was that the Y chromosome was meant to offer the population.

‘How can I not think this is awesome?' I said. ‘This man is trying to cleave apart real human relationships, substituting people with avatars. Do you have any understanding of what this means?'

Dominic slapped his hand to his forehead. ‘The apocalypse is here. Robots rule the world, while humans deteriorate into pasty, shrivelled beings, living underground in isolated pods and communicating via screens.' He turned to me and grabbed my hand. ‘We have to stop this, Ellie.' He took a deep breath. ‘Before it's too late.'

I brushed him off. ‘You're such a twat.'

He grinned. ‘Oh, come on, Ellie. How many times do you need to be told: you can't control the world. Change is going to happen with or without you. Don't be so fearful. Just go with it.'

I looked out the taxi window at the Icelandic mountains fading into the distance and wondered if it was really possible for technology to meaningfully enhance romantic relationships. If synthetic oxytocin could help us stay in love, and we could outsource our partner's fantasies to technology, then maybe marriage would prevail after all?

I glanced up to see a puffin soaring through the sky, its
bright orange feet stretched out and its beak jutting forwards and I smiled. We still had a long way to go to outclass nature.

Dominic and I didn't sit together during the flight. At check-in, I was informed that someone had upgraded me to business class. They couldn't disclose the lady's name, although they were happy to divulge that she had a double-barrel surname and a haughty attitude. Dominic tried to upgrade himself but they refused, stating that my upgrade was contingent on him staying in economy.

Dominic stropped off down the aisle with his Kindle and I sat down to summarise the research findings so far.

Initially I read through all my notes, then I made a few notes on my notes and wrote the heading ‘Summary'. After I'd stared at a blank page for twenty minutes, I decided to refresh my thoughts with a glass of champagne. Three mini bottles later, after I'd befriended all the passengers in my vicinity and solicited their opinions on lasting love, I fell asleep watching a movie about a mountain dog on a skateboard.

At baggage retrieval, Dominic gazed up at the vast suspended ceiling.

‘This airport is amazing,' he said.

I scowled at the empty conveyor. ‘I wish it was amazing enough to deliver me my suitcase,' I said, arms folded.

BOOK: Love Is...
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