Life with Brian - An Englishman in Australia in the 60s, by Vena Mcgrath (and the subject)

Bryan lay on his favourite side of her bed; the right hand side of course. He drifted in and out of slumber, dwelling in the afterglow of a slow and tender lovemaking session, with a woman he met that evening, in a nightclub in Brisbane City. One could be forgiven for asking how a man who had 'picked up' a woman in a nightclub, could have enjoyed a tender lovemaking session with her a few hours later.

Whilst lying there, contemplating "seconds", Bryan heard a snoring noise, and thought, "ah well, let her sleep"; his young lust had been sated. He was drifting off again when he felt his newfound lady move next to him. He turned toward her and put his arm around her, gently stroking her thigh with his fingertips, hoping to arouse the passion once more.

The peacefulness of the moment erupted with the sound of her voice yelling out, " you lousy drunken no good bastard. That's right, stay asleep in your drunken stupor". Bryan remembered having had a bit too much to drink that night, but certainly not enough to be called a 'drunken bastard'. He decided she must have been talking in her sleep, and turned over onto his back thinking, "far out, I sure can pick 'em".

His next thought made him smile, as he wondered if she did breakfast. Then he remembered the rule, "if you want breakfast, you have to sleep in the kitchen". He turned over to face the wall and get some shuteye.

Some time later he awoke with a start. His lady friend seemed to be bashing the hell out of her pillow, and yelled, " Can't you see what I have done! You're so drunk you don't care and I am sick and tired of you" By now Bryan was wide awake and sat up in bed. It was dark, no moonlight. He heard the snoring noise again, not coming from the woman, but someone next to her. He started to panic. "My God", thought Bryan, "there are three of us in the bed!"

He swore softly, and wondered how he could have been so stupid as to end up in a bed with a woman who was a stranger, and her husband. He reconsidered his sober state at that moment and decided he definitely had drunk too much of the 'good' stuff. As these thoughts raced through his confused mind, he asked himself if he had a death wish, because that could very well be the outcome of this little adventure. He decided to make good his escape, or hoped he could, and slid out of the bed quietly. The yelling continued and so did the thumping. He wondered how anyone could be that drunk as to sleep through the barrage of punches the woman was laying into the dormant form in the bed.

The clothes he had thrown on the floor with such abandon some hours before were now held close to his naked chest, along with his shoes and socks. He hoped he hadn't left behind any evidence of who he was, and swore again at himself for his stupidity. After fumbling his way out of the bedroom, unnoticed, he found the front door, and closed it behind him. There he was, out in the street, stark naked and cold. He knew he couldn't go anywhere until he was dressed, or at least partly dressed, so he moved away from the streetlight in front of the house and found a hedge he could stand behind to dress. All this happened in a few seconds, and yet it was like a movie in slow motion. He searched through his clothes in the darkness of his hideaway and locating his jocks, slipped them on. "At the very least I can't be arrested for indecent exposure now" he thought.

It seemed a good idea to keep moving, as he remembered it was harder to hit a moving target. In his terror he imagined the husband chasing him with a shotgun, just like in a silent movie. Trotting down the street, he managed to get dressed whilst moving, which was not an easy feat especially when it came to trying to put socks on at pace.

Even in the terror and fear of the seconds as they ticked by, as he moved further away from her house, he managed to see the funny side of the escapade, and likened it to a Benny Hill sketch. He giggled and wondered if he were having a nervous breakdown, as this was certainly not the time for laughing. Reaching the end of her street, with his shoes and shirt still in his hands, he saw looming out of the fog the best thing he had seen for a while; a yellow cab with a taxi light on the roof. Bryan flagged it down, jumped in the back seat, gave the driver his address, and proceeded to finish dressing.

He could see the driver's face in the rear view mirror; a sly grin hung around his mouth, a knowing grin. Bryan figured that taxi drivers would see a lot of strange happenings in their type of business activity, and no doubt he had seen it all before, especially a half dressed man at three o'clock in the morning, on the run.

Bryan relaxed, found his cigarettes and lighter in his pocket, lit up a cigarette, and took a long leisurely drag on it. With his socks and shoes on his feet, he was feeling confident that he was now safe, and began to reflect on how this adventure had come about.

It had started out like any other Saturday night; a young man, single, 24 years old, visiting the place he liked to go to on a Saturday night, his favourite night club 'Blinkers' in Brisbane city centre. Blinkers had a nice bar, and always had good music with a resident band and singer, Rod Gallegos. One of Bryan's friends was the MC and he always had a quiet drink with Bryan at the bar when he had a break. This night was like any other Saturday night and Bryan was sitting alone at the bar, enjoying a quiet scotch and dry. A woman sat next to him; he glanced at her, but she seemed a fair bit older, and he wasn't really interested. He sat back in his chair and watched the band, enjoying the music.

He felt a soft hand on his arm and turned to face the woman who spoke to him in a soft, silky angelic voice. She asked him the usual question, almost corny these days, "do you come here often?" "Not as often as I would like", was his cheeky reply, and she giggled. They exchanged a few more pleasantries and sat down at a table together, had a few drinks, and a couple of dances. Bryan's dancing expertise extended only as far as a slow waltz, but she let him know she liked the closeness of dancing that way, and soon the young man's thoughts turned to other things, as they do. After a few more drinks, and the 'getting to know you' phase over, she told him she was forty years old, was married to an alcoholic, and had three children. She rarely went out, and thanked Bryan for helping make her night out a pleasant one. The evening wore on and it was time for her to return home. She had satisfied her drinking urge, and was feeling tired, and as she appeared a bit tipsy, the ever-gallant Bryan ordered a taxi, telling her he would escort her home safely.

On arriving at her home, he was invited inside for a coffee, a thank you for the wonderful evening, and for seeing her home safely. Bryan, being the gallant Englishman that he was, accepted the invitation, thinking a cup of coffee would be nice. She opened the door, "quiet, shhhh," she said in that silky angelic voice, "the children are asleep". She led him by the hand, in complete darkness, to the bedroom, and she slid into the middle if the bed, undressed, and threw her clothes to the end of the bed. Bryan, the young gallant gentleman that he was, slipped his clothes off and slid in alongside her. "Great", he thought, "I get the right-hand side too!"

They made slow delicate love, so as not to wake the children up, she had said. Bryan thought for a forty-year-old woman she was still soft and tender to the touch, had silky smooth skin. Although it was pitch dark, and he couldn't see her, his hands, artistic hands, could feel a warmth and softness, and enjoyed caressing her body and exploring every inch. With the love making over, she gently rolled him off, as only a woman can do, and he kissed her tenderly laying there in the afterglow that only beautiful lovemaking could do. He thought what a wonderful evening it had been, and wondered if he would be lucky enough to get seconds.

His happy thoughts came to an abrupt end as the taxi driver said, "here we are mate, safely home', and sniggered to himself. Bryan located his wallet, and thought how fortunate that was, and paid the fare. He alighted from the taxi and hurried inside his flat. He locked the door and made sure the windows were locked as well. He did that for quite a while after that night, as he lived with the fear that somehow the woman's husband might remember something about that night, force the truth out of his wife, and then start asking questions at the club. Bryan stayed clear of the club and made sure his nights out were in a totally opposite direction to where the woman lived.

He kept his adventure a secret, even though secretly, he wanted to tell his mates and gloat about his escape. The escapade had unnerved him and he knew he wouldn't be taking any chances like that again for quite some time, if ever. This resolution seemed the right one to make, but Bryan knew that it wouldn't be long before he would find himself out looking for adventure again. He smiled to himself thinking how great it was to be young and single. So many women, so little time.