They came as a package. That’s what Pippa said. The two of ‘em always together. I shrugged and said ok, not really understanding what that meant. Carol was just always there and not a part of what me and Pippa was. She was just there and watching us and it got to be kinda awkward. I called her the gooseberry – in my head I did.
They wasn’t sisters exactly. Not in blood leastways. They just was close and they went everywhere together like they was joined at the hip. Shit, they even dressed the same and did their hair the same. And Pippa kept saying as how Carol was the pretty one and Carol just blushed and she looked at me funny.
There’s pretty and there’s something else and Pippa was the something else. I dunno, but clothes just sat on her perfect, like she had the figure clothes liked. Carol was a little more round and clothes didn’t really look good on her. So pretty wasn’t everything and that was why I chose Pippa.
We went to the pictures this one time and Carol sat on one side of me and Pippa on the other, and they kept leaning across me to talk and they talked like I wasn’t even there. They even talked about me, Carol asking what it was like holding my hand and Pippa telling her my hands was rough and like man’s hands, warm she said and strong, and she said how I kept stroking my fingers across the palm of her hand, which was nice. Jesus!
After the pictures I walked ‘em both home. At their front door, Carol thanked me for a lovely evening and she shook my hand – and I swear her fingers stroked my palm and she smiled at me. Then she went inside and I was alone with Pippa – the first time I was. And we kissed and messed around a bit. And I said we should be alone more often and Pippa said she couldn’t leave Carol on her own.
I persuaded this guy I know called Will to come out with us and I said his job was to be with Carol. He wasn’t happy about it, but he owed me. We went dancing and somehow we lost Will at the club, and Carol and Pippa and me, we took turns dancing together. Maybe we had a bit much to drink and I was laughing too loud and they kept shushing me. Anyways, I was too drunk to walk home so I stayed over at theirs.
Me and Pippa, we made out. It wasn’t the best sex, but that was cos we was both drunk – but at least it was sex and it was just me and Pippa. After, we dropped like stones into sleep. When I woke, it was dark and the air was sticky and I wasn’t sure where I was at first. Then I remembered – as much as memory serves a drunk. And I could feel Pippa’s body next to mine, warm and still.
But then on the other side of me, I could feel someone else and she was kissing my neck and her hand was down there and touching me and making me hard. And she put one finger across my lips and suddenly it was Pippa was the gooseberry.
Don’t get me wrong. I coulda told that story a hundred times to the guys at the bar and they woulda bought me drinks every time and slapped me on the back and thought me a hero and a dog and a lucky dog. But doing it with Carol, well, it felt all wrong and in so many ways wrong. After, I was ashamed. In the morning when I left I told Pippa I’d call her and she said ‘you’d better,’ but I never ever did.
This one time we bought the same clothes – same white top and same rainbow coloured skirt and same shoes. ‘Course they looked better on Milly on account of she’s thin as sticks and her tits sit up neat as puppies begging for biscuits. Me, I’m a little more than she is and sag and spill is what I am. She said if we dressed the same then we’d draw attention and people’d take notice. I wasn’t sure I wanted ’em to notice me.
By ‘people’ Milly was meaning Ty. He’s this guy lives on our block and Milly is all kinds of soft on him. She writes his name on her arm sometimes, under the sleeve of her sweater, makes it like a tattoo, and she kisses the tips of her fingers and imagines she’s kissing Ty. And one hand to her tits, pretending it aint really her hand at all, and she’s flushed pink and laughing. And Milly reckons us dressing the same will maybe get Ty’s attention.
When we get the clothes home – back to my place – and we take ‘em out of the bags, well, then I’m not so sure. Milly strips down to her underwear, quick as lickety split, and she says we gotta now that we bought the clothes. I’m for keeping ‘em neat and taking ‘em back, but Milly begs me not to. So we dress in the white top and the rainbow skirt and she looks like a model in hers and I look like my aunt Agnes from Boston.
Milly’s right ‘bout one thing – dressed like that we turn heads in the street and get all kinds of notice. Men throw whistles after us, old men and young; and women shake their heads and I don’t know what is in that shaking. And kids run at our tails asking if we is models or film stars. That makes Milly all shiney and bright and smiling when they say that.
And Ty, well, it’s sorta like Milly said. And he tells us ‘good morning, girls’ and he sounds like slow Elvis when he says it, and he says we is looking good, and finger licking good, he says. And he makes a noise with his lips pressed together, a noise like he’s thinking ‘bout something and it’s a good thought in his head. Milly gets all of that and she says after that what we paid for the clothes was worth every penny. Me, I’m still for returning ‘em to the shop and seeing if we can get our money back.
But the world is a funny place, you know, and it takes just a moment, and it’s all stood on its head, and up is down and down is up, and nothing don’t make sense. I was walking back from Milly’s – where she was touching her lips again with her fingers and thinking ‘bout what it’d be to kiss Ty and her hand being his hand at her tits – and out of nowhere and out of nothing, Ty is there beside me and he asks if he can walk me home.
And when we get there he walks me right inside and he’s kissing me and touching his hands to my tits and everything’s breathless and blurry and not at all what Milly was imagining – everything better and Ty saying my name over and over, like it’s a prayer or a wish, and I’m telling him to slow down, but not really meaning it, and he sees his name written in pen under the waistband of my pants and he laughs and he don’t laugh unkindly.
Patricia Ann McNair 
They came as a package. That’s what Pippa said. The two of ‘em always together. I shrugged and said ok, not really understanding what that meant. Carol was just always there and not a part of what me and Pippa was. She was just there and watching us and it got to be kinda awkward. I called her the gooseberry – in my head I did.
They wasn’t sisters exactly. Not in blood leastways. They just was close and they went everywhere together like they was joined at the hip. Shit, they even dressed the same and did their hair the same. And Pippa kept saying as how Carol was the pretty one and Carol just blushed and she looked at me funny.
There’s pretty and there’s something else and Pippa was the something else. I dunno, but clothes just sat on her perfect, like she had the figure clothes liked. Carol was a little more round and clothes didn’t really look good on her. So pretty wasn’t everything and that was why I chose Pippa.
We went to the pictures this one time and Carol sat on one side of me and Pippa on the other, and they kept leaning across me to talk and they talked like I wasn’t even there. They even talked about me, Carol asking what it was like holding my hand and Pippa telling her my hands was rough and like man’s hands, warm she said and strong, and she said how I kept stroking my fingers across the palm of her hand, which was nice. Jesus!
After the pictures I walked ‘em both home. At their front door, Carol thanked me for a lovely evening and she shook my hand – and I swear her fingers stroked my palm and she smiled at me. Then she went inside and I was alone with Pippa – the first time I was. And we kissed and messed around a bit. And I said we should be alone more often and Pippa said she couldn’t leave Carol on her own.
I persuaded this guy I know called Will to come out with us and I said his job was to be with Carol. He wasn’t happy about it, but he owed me. We went dancing and somehow we lost Will at the club, and Carol and Pippa and me, we took turns dancing together. Maybe we had a bit much to drink and I was laughing too loud and they kept shushing me. Anyways, I was too drunk to walk home so I stayed over at theirs.
Me and Pippa, we made out. It wasn’t the best sex, but that was cos we was both drunk – but at least it was sex and it was just me and Pippa. After, we dropped like stones into sleep. When I woke, it was dark and the air was sticky and I wasn’t sure where I was at first. Then I remembered – as much as memory serves a drunk. And I could feel Pippa’s body next to mine, warm and still.
But then on the other side of me, I could feel someone else and she was kissing my neck and her hand was down there and touching me and making me hard. And she put one finger across my lips and suddenly it was Pippa was the gooseberry.
Don’t get me wrong. I coulda told that story a hundred times to the guys at the bar and they woulda bought me drinks every time and slapped me on the back and thought me a hero and a dog and a lucky dog. But doing it with Carol, well, it felt all wrong and in so many ways wrong. After, I was ashamed. In the morning when I left I told Pippa I’d call her and she said ‘you’d better,’ but I never ever did.
This one time we bought the same clothes – same white top and same rainbow coloured skirt and same shoes. ‘Course they looked better on Milly on account of she’s thin as sticks and her tits sit up neat as puppies begging for biscuits. Me, I’m a little more than she is and sag and spill is what I am. She said if we dressed the same then we’d draw attention and people’d take notice. I wasn’t sure I wanted ’em to notice me.
By ‘people’ Milly was meaning Ty. He’s this guy lives on our block and Milly is all kinds of soft on him. She writes his name on her arm sometimes, under the sleeve of her sweater, makes it like a tattoo, and she kisses the tips of her fingers and imagines she’s kissing Ty. And one hand to her tits, pretending it aint really her hand at all, and she’s flushed pink and laughing. And Milly reckons us dressing the same will maybe get Ty’s attention.
When we get the clothes home – back to my place – and we take ‘em out of the bags, well, then I’m not so sure. Milly strips down to her underwear, quick as lickety split, and she says we gotta now that we bought the clothes. I’m for keeping ‘em neat and taking ‘em back, but Milly begs me not to. So we dress in the white top and the rainbow skirt and she looks like a model in hers and I look like my aunt Agnes from Boston.
Milly’s right ‘bout one thing – dressed like that we turn heads in the street and get all kinds of notice. Men throw whistles after us, old men and young; and women shake their heads and I don’t know what is in that shaking. And kids run at our tails asking if we is models or film stars. That makes Milly all shiney and bright and smiling when they say that.
And Ty, well, it’s sorta like Milly said. And he tells us ‘good morning, girls’ and he sounds like slow Elvis when he says it, and he says we is looking good, and finger licking good, he says. And he makes a noise with his lips pressed together, a noise like he’s thinking ‘bout something and it’s a good thought in his head. Milly gets all of that and she says after that what we paid for the clothes was worth every penny. Me, I’m still for returning ‘em to the shop and seeing if we can get our money back.
But the world is a funny place, you know, and it takes just a moment, and it’s all stood on its head, and up is down and down is up, and nothing don’t make sense. I was walking back from Milly’s – where she was touching her lips again with her fingers and thinking ‘bout what it’d be to kiss Ty and her hand being his hand at her tits – and out of nowhere and out of nothing, Ty is there beside me and he asks if he can walk me home.
And when we get there he walks me right inside and he’s kissing me and touching his hands to my tits and everything’s breathless and blurry and not at all what Milly was imagining – everything better and Ty saying my name over and over, like it’s a prayer or a wish, and I’m telling him to slow down, but not really meaning it, and he sees his name written in pen under the waistband of my pants and he laughs and he don’t laugh unkindly.