Kitchen At Parties
A Story about coffee and something stronger
Where it’s all happening, at this party, is not the living room. An unnamed man and woman meet for the first time while David stays at the party.
Opening
Escaping the pungent aftershave and perfume in the living room, she pushed open the door to the kitchen. A youngish man leant against the counter, reading a book, as the kettle rumbled to a boil.
‘Hey,’ he said, barely glancing up. ‘Coffee? Or are you on something stronger?
‘I was,’ she said, ‘but I think I’m done. Yes please. Black.’ The young man was in soft loungewear and bare feet. Dark curls hung over one eye. He assembled the cafetiere, gathered mugs, spoons. Seemed to know where everything was kept. ‘You’re not at the party?’
He snorted. ‘No. But you are. Whose wife are you?’
‘Bit of an odd question.’
He looked up properly for the first time, but was offhand as he explained, ‘She only has male friends. And they’re always married.’ He sounded congested, restrained. You wouldn’t be here in your own right. No offence.’ He held out a mug to her, with the handle towards her, and sat at the table.
‘Thanks. Doesn’t she? I hadn’t really thought about it.’
‘Her affair. Literally, sometimes. Not in your husband’s case, though, I’m sure.’ He coloured slightly and flapped his hand. ‘Ignore me.’
‘I can’t deny she’s David’s friend, not mine.’
‘What’s the mood in there?’
She drawled, ‘Smoke and chat and booze and singing and holding forth about things for no reason. I felt like a fish out of water anyway. That’s why I came in here. Thought I might find some air…’
He laughed as she looked around for a door, found one and opened it. Cold night air chilled the room immediately. He sat cradling his mug with his arms round one knee.
‘Sounds like you love a party.’
She paused as if to consider. ‘No, I really don’t. Just lacking the courage to risk missing out if I didn’t come, I suppose. And I enjoy the bitching afterwards, even if it leaves a nasty taste. Like this coffee.’
‘Sugar?’
‘Sorry? No. It’s fine. Waking me up a bit.’
‘What else would you have done?’
‘When?’
‘If you hadn’t come to keep an eye on David. Check out the competition.’
She laughed it off, but looked uncomfortable, with a little weariness. ‘Oh, no. I’ve met her before.’