Apocalypse of Jude

Gary sails his car to a halt outside Audrey’s flat, happy with the day’s brisk trade. At her door, he knocks, but no answer. His hand seeks entry and finds the door unbarred, as if he is expected. He finds Audrey folding away the ironing board, laying it in the gap between the refrigerator and the wall, folded stockings, slips, and camisoles piled up in the plastic basket. She looks up, bored and tired, while he stares boldly at her, as if awaiting her accusation, self-assured of his position, despite the acne erupting on his skin. All she does is move first to the stove to stir a pot simmering upon it and then, with the pot, walks back to the table where she ladles the food onto two prepared plates, one of which she sets before him.

Disappointed, he wants to egg her on. He had expected a scene with her and foretold its outcome in his head.

“How did you know I was coming?”

“A man may go elsewhere to fill his sexual appetite, but he always comes home like a dog to eat.”

Her barb digs out of him the long resentment he has held towards her ever since Paul made him go with her to get what he wanted. They drop into a nothing-more-to-say silence. Over the rest of dinner he allows this resentment to take him over. Now that he no longer needs to pretend he is interested in her, he wants to punish her for the resentment she has caused, and as the resentment turns to anger he feels his sex beginning to excite him, and he knows he wants to enact out his resentment on her bed.
Feeling that the propitiatory silence over dinner has been enough, he rises from his chair and moves round the back of her putting his arms softly on her shoulders. His hands move to caressing her bare arms, but she continues to be limp and silent.

“Let’s go to the sitting room.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Come on, it will be much more comfortable.”

He has begun caressing her more nakedly. She is now pushing his hands away.

“Gary, please no. Just get away from me.”

He is looking down upon her, annoyed. Then flushed and decided, he assaults, surprised to find that he encounters no defence. His vanity takes this as her capitulation to him, and he welcomes her indifference to his groping hands. She even lets him steer her to her divan bed, where she lies listlessly until he is spent. Then rising, he gives her a patronising kiss on the cheek, leaving the dusk darkened house with a stumble on the unlit stairs.

Wasteland Mix: Fragment 70