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“What are we going to do, Uncle Jeff?” she asked excitedly as she followed me over towards her mother’s dressing table.“Just take ahold of the...back of that chair, sweetie,” I said nodding towards the straight-back chair her mother used at the dressing table. Emma stood behind the chair and put her hands on the top cross-rail of the back. She turned to look at me for further instructions. “That’s good Emma. Now step back so you’re leaning forwards ... that’s good ... just a little further back. I had similar feelings of total ease and relaxation. Her eyes were beautiful and her mouth... God, I wanted to kiss her right then. So I did. Leaning toward her, I reached up with my left hand, to pull her head closer to me, telegraphing my intentions to kiss her. It was a mutual desire, as she leaned toward me at the same time. As our heads were drawn slowly together, our eyes searched each other for words. Were we looking for a permission to continue, or for some other instruction urging us. We chatted about work for a few minutes, and then moved onto the topic of dancing which was of course one of her extra-curricular activities. It turned out that she had been dancing for about 7 years, and practised mainly with other female backing dancers for singers at a local theatre. She told me how it kept her fit and gave her a huge confidence boost despite being an otherwise relatively shy person at heart. I decided that now was as good a time as any to compliment her on her physique,. After a night of feignedgaiety and passion, I feel empty and alone. I need to sleep but the dregs of the coke and speed that powered methrough the night are still with me. I open the door, cross the tinyliving room to the cluttered, dirty kitchen, and look into the fetid,empty refrigerator.My mom has been home, come and gone. She's left a pile of unread mailon the kitchen counter next to an empty liter bottle of Shasta Orange,a blackened scrap of aluminum foil, and a pile of burnt out.
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