AN OPENING DOOR 1997

TWO WOMEN IN IRELAND IN 1997 AND A SECRET LOVE

Nuala's husband is
out at football.

Nuala waits
for Una to come
and talk and sip
coffee or tea.

The loud tick tock
of the clock
makes her feel tense.

What if Brian returns
when she's here?

So what just say
she's a friend
who's visiting.

Nuala walks the lounge,
inhales on a cigarette,
thinks of Brian
and his last minute
want to f**k
before he left.

She imagines him
singing on
the football terraces
with his mates,
loud and uncouth,
old men and youth.

The doorbell rings,
she freezes.

Is that her?
She walks down
the passage
and opens the door.

Una stands there
in a short pink dress,
her hair fresh cut.

Has he gone?
She asks softly.

Nuala nods and smiles,
lets her in
and along the passage
after closing the door.

Nuala can smell
her perfume
filling the air.

All right me
being here?
Una says.

Nuala nods and says,
want a drink?

Hard or soft?
Una says smiling.

Up to you,
Nuala says.

Una sits on the sofa,
crosses her legs,
showing thighs.

Coffee be best,
I think,
Una says shyly,
looking about the lounge.

Nuala goes off
to the kitchen,
fills two mugs,
puts in coffee.  

How's Brian?
Una says
from the lounge.

He's fine,
Nuala says,
putting on the kettle,
thinking of Brian's
quickie before football,
she hot and undone,
he sweaty and off
to football after.

Una comes in
the kitchen behind her,
puts her arms
around her waist,
kisses her neck.

Nuala holds
Una's hands
with her own,
squeezing them gently.

Not here,
Nuala says,
not today,
too risky.

Una kisses her neck,
breathes on her.

Guess not,
but what if
we did?  

The kettle boils
and whistles.

They separate,
drinks are made,
milk added
and sugar too.

Nuala turns,
kisses Una's lips,
holds her close,
feeling her body
close to hers,
warmth on warmth.

What now?
Una says.

Nuala sighs,
lays her head
on Una's breast.

Can't not here,
what if Brian
comes too soon?

Doesn't he always?
Una says.

Nuala laughs,
they kiss once more.

There is a key
in the lock
and an opening door.