hear her breathing, smell her skin. I can’t get her out of my head. Even in the midst of the deafening music, all these posers – this mess of a hard night – the whole film of her naked body, her shivers and quivers, her aching sighs, plays through my head on some crazy kind of loop. I’m going totally out of my mind here.
Maybe I need to toughen up.
No violence, no, but I need to put an end to this whole useless charade of confusion and upset.
From now on I’m gonna fuck anyone.
It doesn’t matter where, how or who.
I can’t only be with Penny, and I’m not gonna be gentle with her anymore either. I have to show her zero regard, zero pause, zero consideration. From now on we’re only gonna fuck – no more of this making love.
In the midst of all this, the weirdest thing is that when Penny leaves at six o’clock in the morning, I still haven’t read Francisca’s letter.
19
Everywhere. They did it everywhere. In the afternoons, before going to the library, Penny would go up to the attic and there’d be no talking, they’d just fuck, straight and simple.
He’d wait for her and undress her and then take her and enjoy being inside her body.
She’d go upstairs and undress him and take him and enjoy him and his body equally.
At night it was the same. Sex, just pure sex – hungry, rude, panting – and nothing more.
Penny thought about it all the time, unaware that Marcus was thinking about it even more often than she was, because the more either of them thought about it, the more they wanted it for real.
By now Marcus’s body held no more secrets for her. She had learned to decipher his tattoos and gone online to discover their meaning. Just as she had imagined, they were symbols of power and courage. She didn’t yet know the significance of the pierced heart, but it didn’t feel quite appropriate to ask him. After all, he was continuing to act as though he hated her, as though he was merely using her flesh and fucking whatever came his way. Sleeping with him gave her pleasure and that was enough for her.
He’s leaving with Francisca in three weeks, in any case.
Who knows what Francisca said to him in her letter?
Why hasn’t he responded yet?
In exactly three weeks’ time, he’ll be gone from here.
But I don’t want to think about that just yet.
For now, I just want this.
In exactly three weeks he’ll be gone.
Barbie wanted to go to the hairdresser so Penny went with her. She’d been neglecting Barbie recently and wanted to devote an entire day to her. She gave her a wonderful morning of pampering, a fun manicure and helped her apply strawberry-coloured lipstick. Penny refreshed her own dyed lock of hair, and in place of the fading pink, there was now a vivid and hopeful emerald green.
On returning to the apartment, however, fate gave her something else to think about. Penny was just settling down to prepare lunch while her grandma was busy admiring her new manicure, when there was a knock at the door.
Penny started when she saw Marcus leaning against the doorjamb, looking not exactly joyful. He beckoned her on to the landing for a moment.
The novelty of this request wasn’t a problem – at least they were talking now in addition to rolling around together on any surface capable of supporting them – but Marcus’s face betrayed disquiet, and this concerned her.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked, wiping her wet hands on the apron tied around her waist.
It was strange to welcome him like that, with the air of a virtuous housewife dedicated to simple and healthy things like making meals and feeding an elderly relative. It was especially strange after recent days which had overflowed with sweaty moans and deep kisses.
‘Mr Malkovich would like to see you. He’s back on my case. Can you come upstairs for a second?’
‘That’s fine, I’ll come now. Did something happen?’
‘What happened is that he’s not happy unless he’s busting my balls.’
Marcus’s comment was soon explained. When he saw Penny, the parole officer expressed the reason for his visit.
‘My wife and I would like to invite you to dinner over at ours.’
Penny stared at Marcus in amazement, while he, standing by the bathroom door, rolled his eyes sardonically without it being noticed by his unwelcome guest.
‘At yours? And is . . . well, is this standard?’
With a big smile on his face,