Both and Neither

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"One more episode?" he said and stretched his hand to his Mac, over their now empty lunch tray.

"No, I can't," Tina said. "It's almost two."

"It is," he confirmed and gave her a questioning look.

"I need to take a shower," she said pointedly.

Tina picked up her mobile and checked. There were no texts. There were three possibilities here: either Dr. Edwin Montjoy would stand her up without a text; or he'd text her that she was a trollop and he wanted to have nothing to do with her within the next hour and five minutes; or, lastly, he'd show up at three just as agreed and then tell her she was a trollop and he wanted nothing to do with her. There was no way, after all, Mr. Tate hadn't told everyone in the village she'd been copping off with Holyoake on her kitchen counter.

Tina started sliding off the bed.

"Where are you going?" There was sincere confusion on his face.

"I– I'm going for a walk with Edwin at three," she reminded him.

He leaned back against the headboard and crossed his arms on his bare chest.

"You are?" he asked.

Oh, is that how low his voice can go? Wow. His face had that blank expression again, like when she'd said they needed to shag so she could write. Much good it did.

"Yeah, we arranged it last time."

She looked around her bedroom, but there seemed to be no clothes lying around. Most of them must have come off on the stairs. To think of it, she now distinctly remembered being thrown on the bed only in her bra and her socks. Oops. She minced to her wardrobe - the floor was cold - and pulled out a dressing gown. It was all satin and lace, and she never wore it - because who would she wear it for? Not herself, for sure. The thing was endlessly uncomfortable. Her normal fluffy robe was in the bathroom.

"You're going on a date with Dr. Mount of Joy," Holyoake said slowly without intonating the statement in any way. "Now?"

"As opposed to when?" Tina asked distractedly from the door.

She'd opened it and was now fighting the desire to pick up and neatly fold all these tees and jumpers and trousers scattered all the way down the stairs and in the hallway. Ah, right, he started undressing her by the entrance door.

"As opposed to before sleeping with me," he said in the same expressionless tone.

OK, Tina, time to focus. The man's clearly trying to say something. Pay attention!

Tina turned to him. "Alright, I have to admit I'm out of my depth here, so you'll have to elaborate. Are you trying to say that Edwin will mind that we– that you and I–"

"Shag," he deadpanned, and Tina nodded jerkily.

"Yeah, but it's really none of his business, is it? On the other hand, now that Mr. Tate saw us, it'll look like I lied when he asked about you–" she started muttering.

"So, he did ask," Holyoake said in a dark tone.

"You greeted him by the door! Of course he asked." Tina gave Holyoake an exasperated look. "But technically he has no right to be against it. I mean, if we started dating, then of course I wouldn't do that again, but–"

"If we started dating, you wouldn't go on a date with the Mushroom Bloke?" Holyoake asked in an even voice.

"What? No! If I dated Edwin, I wouldn't sleep with a random bloke!"

Clearly, one of them is confused. Wait, why does this feel familiar? Ah, right, the first few days, and the 'again' statement of his, and the twin question.

"A 'random bloke?'" Holyoake sneered. "Is that what I am?!"

"What? No! I mean, technically you– are," she finished awkwardly. "'Random' literally means 'made, done, happening, or chosen without method or conscious decision.' And that's how you ended up here. Without a conscious decision from either of us."

"I don't know whether to admire your vocabulary skills or to tell you to sod off," Holyoake said.

"Why would you tell me to sod off?" Tina exclaimed, bewildered. "What did I do wrong?"

He watched her for a few seconds, and then he sighed. "Nothing. You did absolutely nothing wrong." He shook his head. "You need to go to take a shower. You'll be late."

"Alright," Tina drew out and went downstairs.

Is she missing something?

When she was midway down, a thought came, and she turned around and ran up. Holyoake was sitting in the exact same pose: arms crossed, eyes fixed on the opposite wall. Tina looked as well, but saw nothing interesting there.

"Do you mind me going out with Edwin?" she asked, and he whipped his head and stared at her. "I mean– I just sort of thought about it," she muttered. "I don't think you would, but I thought I'd ask just in case."

"Why would I mind you going out with Dr. Mount of Joy?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm not saying you are!" Tina groaned in frustration. "I can just imagine how you're panicking inside thinking I'm trying to manipulate you into some sort of a– commitment, or something." She flailed her hands in the air. "I'm not! I swear to God, I'm not! We're stuck together, we sleep together, we shag! It's ace! And I want to continue shagging until you leave on Christmas Eve. And if for some reason - I can't think of any - you don't feel comfortable to do it while I go out with Edwin, I can wait till after Christmas."

"You can wait to go out with– Edwin till after Christmas," he once again repeated slowly.

What else would she mean? It's not like he'll be around after Christmas for more of that - delicious, delicious - shag.

Tina nodded. He gave it a thought. Tina properly didn't like this scowl on his face. She needed him jolly and– perky. Shut up with the daft puns, Tina.

"Do you want to go out with Edwin?" he asked finally.

"Yeah, I mean–" Tina shifted her feet on the cold parquet. "It's a bit odd these days, and the timing is sort of– unorthodox," she said with a small awkward laugh and pointed between the two of them. He followed her finger with his eyes. "But it feels nice to go on a date," she said. "And something might come out of it."

He once again silently studied her face - and then nodded.

"You should run to the shower," he said quietly. "Now, you'll definitely be late."

Phew. Not that she needed his permission, but having everything in the open made her feel much better. She gave him a quick smile and dashed out of the bedroom.

***

This time Holyoake wasn't around when Tina opened the door. To think of it, he might still be in bed. Tina hadn't seen him go down. At this stage, he was allowed. It was as much as his bed now.

"Afternoon," the mycologist greeted her and took a few steps back.

"Hello, Edwin," she said with a smile - while attentively watching his facial expression. "Shall we?"

She locked the door behind her and carefully went down the steps of the porch.

"How are you feeling?" he asked with a concern in his voice.

Is this sarcasm? Is he asking how she's feeling after all these orgasms she's been having? The answer is very, very, very well.

"Pardon?"

"After your fall," he reminded her.

"Ah, right. I'm quite alright, thank you."

"How's your work going?" he asked a few seconds later.

"Edwin, I'd like to mention something before we continue," Tina blurted out, and he stopped on the other side of the street.

"Yes, Tina?"

"Well, you see," she started. Awwwwww-kward. "When you asked me last time whether there was something going on between me and John–"

"You said there was nothing going on," the mycologist finished her sentence, and laughed softly. "I have to confess, Tina, I've been– worried. I'm not a jealous man, at least I've never considered myself such. But you see, I thought we had a connection. That first time when we spoke last year, and you asked me about the mushroom picking trails in the area," he said in a deep emotional voice and gave her an earnest look, "I thought we were very much alike. Both living alone, working on our books..."

"Right, yes," Tina said. Again, there's a man in front of you, Tina, who's leading a completely different conversation from you.

"And I find you ever so attractive, Tina," he said in a velvet baritone. "If not for the restrictions–" He made a step towards her, but then winced back.

God, the man is like John Hannah's James from Sliding Doors: charming, sexy, decent. He must be equally fictional!

"These feelings are very much mutual, Edwin," Tina started. "But you see, regarding John–"

"You've developed feelings for him, haven't you?" the mycologist said with a melancholy smile.

"What?! No, of course I didn't. I've known him for ten days!" Tina's eyes boggled. "And up until a couple of days ago, I wasn't particularly fond of him!"

"But you're fond of him now."

"I– I'm– You see, it's not that straight forward, and regarding what Mr. Tate saw–" Oh god, what are you going to say, Tina?! You should've prepared something eloquent. The man speaks like an Austen novel and sounds like half of the Gosford Park characters!

"Pardon, but what does Mr. Tate have to do with it?" The mycologist's eyebrows jumped up.

"Well, what he saw– What happened yesterday morning– And you haven't the foggiest what I'm talking about," Tina said and laughed.

"I'm afraid not," the mycologist said.

This is your chance, Tina. Tell him you hate Holyoake's guts, and once they start vaccinating people, this one might even cross the street.

"I do have feelings for John, Edwin," Tina said. "But it's a purely physical attraction, and besides, our shared isolation will end in four days. But I'll understand if you don't feel comfortable to continue our–" What's the posh word for him chatting her up via a basket of biscuits and a letter worthy of Fitzwilliam Darcy? "– association."

The mycologist walked in silence for a few seconds. It wasn't snowing this time, but he still looked worthy of the final scene of Bridget Jones' Diary.

"I have to say, I've always considered myself a progressive man," he said.

He seems to be considering himself a lot, doesn't he? Tina's inner voice asked venomously. He considers himself progressive and not jealous. You just wait, he'll be 'considering' you and discussing the results of his consideration in the same posh articulate way.

As opposed to Holyoake who's just grabbing and snogging - and not evaluating you, except for occasional growled 'god, yes!' and 'more!'

Tina suddenly felt an acute desire to turn around, go home, and climb back in her bed, under her duvet, and to press into Holyoake's warm side. The world seemed a simpler place from there.

"And you are here after all," the blond said softly. "With me."

Did you notice how straight you're keeping your back, Tina?

Suddenly her eyes stung, and she gave the mycologist a forced smile.

"I am," she answered. "And I'm happy we get to go on these walks, Edwin. But I have to admit I might have fibbed a tad." Yeah, like forgetting to mention all that mind-blowing shag you've been having? Shut up! "My back seems to hurt after that fall," she muttered. "Could we cut our today's stroll short?"

"Goodness, of course!" the mycologist exclaimed. "We should return at once!"

"But I'd love to try again tomorrow," Tina said. Oi, a tad more enthusiasm in the tone maybe?

"So do I, Tina," the mycologist said and folded his hands in front of his heart. "I have to say, despite these rather unusual circumstances - and the physical distance between us - I'm truly enjoying our dates."

Tina nodded and looked under her feet. Ooph, dating is hard work, innit, Tina? Maybe you should stick with mindless shag and non-committed cohabitation. Except you can't write when your shag mate is around. Yeah, all and all, maybe you should just go back to your hermit existence. Tina sighed and dragged herself after the mycologist.

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