’ ‘Oh, really?’ Gemma’s gaze narrowed with interest. ‘Is he married?’ ‘Don’t even think about it. I’m not interested.’ ‘Is he?’ ‘No.’ ‘Got a girlfriend?’ ‘I didn’t ask. I don’t want to know. I don’t care. I hate him.’ Melissa put down her mug on the glass-topped table then put her head in her hands and groaned. ‘Why couldn’t he have stayed in Singapore? I don’t need this. I don’t want to have to be around him.’ ‘You hate him?’ Her friend leaned forward, eyes bright with curiosity. ‘Why? Didn’t you tell me you spent every summer with this guy when you were kids?’ Melissa nodded, not moving her hands. ‘Mum couldn’t afford to take the time off work so Aunt Suzie and Uncle Charlie had me to stay every year until I was fifteen. And Matt’s parents were usually away in some far-flung country—Matt’s father was a hotshot businessman, always making some deal or another. They settled in South Africa in the end. Anyway, Matt got sent to boarding school and then spent summer holidays at the farm.’. And his pieces changed. The pawns were shrunken, screaming things, chained to their pedestals with chips of ice that I swear to God had fire flickering inside them. The clock ticked and I stared at the board. I was realizing that this really wasn’t a joke. It’s gonna sound disgusting, but sweat was pouring down my ass-crack the way rainwater runs through a drainpipe. He whispered, ‘Twenty-one, Ken. Which one will you choose?’ I thought for a long time. Fifteen minutes, twenty, twenty five. He sat patiently, his queen making nasty little gestures at me and reaching over occasionally to squeeze the crotch of his king. The bishop on her side would use his staff to probe at her rear, every once in a while in a way that was too disturbing to look at for any length of time. And king’s bishop whoring himself to that horse, on his hands and knees, didn’t do much for my concentration. Or my appetite, for that matter. I fixed my eyes on my own pieces. It was my opening. My pieces didn’t look.
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