left the shot glasses.'
I moved some old newspapers from the kitchen table to the floor, and put six small glasses on it. I let Rosa do the pouring. While she did it, I thought about how stupid I was being. Even through the haze of Valium, wine and fernet branca, I could see that tequila was a terrible idea. There was no way I was going to work in the morning. I didn't think I would go to work ever again.
Rosa took the shots back to the sitting room, and I followed. I sat close to her, back on the sofa.
'I love you,' I told her, sleepily.
'Oh, shut up! And drink!'
We clinked glasses and gulped back our drinks. I shifted closer to Rosa. A small alert part of me was looking on, disgusted. I hated myself and I hated my life. I was sensible. I never got talking to strangers in bars. I certainly never invited them home with me. And I never did this, either.
I stroked her arm. 'Rosa?' I asked.
'Oh fuck it. Why not?' Tequila and my nagging had made her suddenly aggressive. She sounded male, all of a sudden. 'You want to know if it still works? Let's find out. You want a curiosity fuck? So have one. It's the last chance for me, I suppose. My ceremonial good riddance.'
She turned to me. I gazed at her. There was no trace remaining of Ross's facial hair. She had already told me that she had had everything but the most delicate of eyebrows removed by electrolysis. But her bone structure was masculine.
I was propelled by alcohol and pills and self-disgust. I hated myself. I hated what I was doing. I was worthless. It didn't matter what I did, because it just proved how horrible I was.
Sick with everything, I moved in and forced myself to kiss her. I pulled away in disgust, and so did she. I swallowed and overcame my horror. I was going to do this. I was. I thought of Steve and Miles, and I pushed myself to carry on. I had to take control, because Rosa was not enjoying this any more than I was. I pushed my mouth on to hers. Everything about it was wrong. Her mouth was soft, like mine. The intimacy when our tongues touched made my whole body shudder. She tasted different from Steve. I recoiled, but I carried on. I was propelled by a grim and determined self-hatred.
With an effort, I stood up and pulled Rosa in the direction of the stairs. As I did it, I knew how much I was going to regret this in the morning, and I took satisfaction from that, and redoubled my efforts.
It took a lot of hard work to get Rosa to a point where she was ready for sex. I pressed onwards, not letting myself stop for a second, working with hands and fingers and mouth. I felt like a prostitute, going through the motions without feeling anything. But no one was going to pay me. I was just doing this out of perversity. Then I started to feel a little thrill, in spite of myself.
Twenty minutes later, we were lying on the bed. The bedside lamp was on, illuminating the debauched scene. I looked at the photograph of my mother, which had always stood on my bedside table. She was holding me, a few minutes after my birth. Her face was pale, and there were bags under her eyes. It was the only image I had of her. All the photos stopped when I was a few months old.
Rosa prodded my naked body. I couldn't even be bothered to be ashamed of it. There were parts of my stomach and thighs that I kept meaning to lose, but that meant nothing.
'This is everything I've ever wanted,' she said, pulling my left nipple hard between her finger and thumb. I winced. 'See, I don't care if it hurts, because you've got everything I should have had. You've seen me.' She was dressed by now, ashamed of her hairless male body. She had only half undressed to start with. 'You've seen the mess I am. That was Ross's last outing. He's not proud of himself and he's going to leave now. He's not coming back.'
'Good,' I told her. I didn't want to be her friend any more. I couldn't bear the sight of her.
'So I'm going.' She shook her head. 'Because I know what's about to happen. I'm going to