muscle it is in the male genitals or the associated support systems that briefly fills the slowly detumescing penis with blood again, sending a small pulse of socketed touch into Ashley’s body. She gave a little exhalation half-way between a sigh and a laugh, and then squeezed back with her vaginal muscles, like a hand round me.
There was a pause, and I thought I felt her go very still for a second, and then she squeezed me again; two quick grippings in succession. There was a pause, and I responded, but she dug her fingers into the small of my back as though to stop me, and so I relaxed.
She squeezed again, four times, the second pulse longer than the other three. Another pause, during which I realised - it was morse! Then another four pulses, the second one short and the others long.
I. L. Y.
I had raised my head away from her shoulder while I concentrated on what she was doing in there; now I lowered my face to her skin again. I laughed, very lightly, and after a moment so did she, and then I sent the same signal back, with a single long pulse at the end: I.L.Y.T.
And I swear the sending made the signal all the truer.
And that falling was followed by two more shared fallings, as we fell apart, and then asleep.
I woke and she was dressed, standing by the bed, a beatific smile across her face, which was washed and glowing and framed by neatly combed hair. I struggled to get up on one elbow.
‘Ash?’
She put one hand to the back of my head and kissed my lips. ‘I have to go,’ she said.
‘What? But - you mean to Canada?’
‘Prentice, I promised. I have to.’
I felt my jaw drop. I rolled onto my back for a second, then sat bolt upright. ‘But last night!’ I said, spreading my arms wide.
Ashley smiled even more broadly and climbed half onto the bed, one black-stockinged knee on the crumpled sheets. She kissed me. ‘Was wonderful,’ she said, ‘but I have to go.’
‘You can’t!’ I slapped myself on the forehead with one palm. ‘This can’t be happening! It’s a dream! Stay!’ I reached out to her, held her face between my hands. ‘Ashley! Please! Stay!’
‘I can’t, Prentice. I said I’d go. I promised.’
‘I’m serious!’ I said. ‘I don’t -’
She put one soft hand gently to my mouth, shushing me, then kissed me long and tenderly. ‘I’m going, Prentice,’ she said, ‘but it doesn’t have to be for ever.’
‘Well, how long?’ I wailed.
She shrugged, stroked my shoulders with her hands. ‘You get this degree, okay? If you still want me then, well ...’
‘Promise?’ I said, in what was meant to be a terminally sarcastic manner, but came out pathetically.
She smiled. ‘I promise.’
‘Oh my God!’ I said, looking at the clock by the crystal bowl. ‘I don’t believe this!’ Maybe, if I could just stall her ...
‘There’s a taxi waiting,’ she told me. ‘It’s all right.’ She smoothed some hair away from my eyes, her touch like silk.
‘But I was going to drive -’
‘You rest,’ she said. ‘You probably had too much wine last night, anyway. The taxi really is waiting.’ She slipped her hand under the covers, held my penis as she kissed me, then slipped away as I fell forward, trying to embrace her, hold her, keep her.
‘Ashley!’ I said desperately. She was at the door.
‘Yes?’ she said.
‘I didn’t dream that... signal last night, did I?’
She laughed. ‘Nope. Meant every letter; every word. With all my heart.’ One brow flicked. ‘Amongst other organs.’ She tipped her head to one side, eyebrows raised. ‘And you?’
‘The same,’ I gulped.
She looked down at the floor, then back at me, still smiling. ‘Good. Well, we can take it from there, okay?’
‘I’ll write every day!’ I told her.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she laughed, with one shake of her head. ‘Just pass those exams.’
‘They’ll be over by mid-June,’ I said, more to keep her there in my sight for a few seconds longer that for any other reason.
‘Then I’ll be back in mid-June,’ she said.
She pulled her black gloves from her jacket pockets and put them on. ‘Bye, Prentice.’ She blew me a kiss.
‘Bye,’ I gulped. She closed the door. I flopped back, stunned, staring at the glittering red chandelier.
I jumped out of bed as the front door banged closed; I tore downstairs bollock-naked and waved to her from one of the drawing room windows, which went from about human knee level to giraffe’s head