Hula Doll

One of my favourite The Wedding Present lyrics (although not from one of my favourite The Wedding Present songs: "Hula Doll") goes thus:

"You said there's nothing that turns you on more
Than waking up with someone you've not woken up with before"

This is not quite appropriate for me and Sarah as the song's about some dude attempting to explain a pointless one night stand to his beloved.

I think my re-write would be:

"I said there's nowt that turns me red more
then waking up in the nuddy with some woman you barely knew he night before"

Waking up was very odd (and like most people I've woken up in some strange places before). There was none of that comedy fall-back rubbish when you turn in your lovely snug bed to be mortally surprised by the person kipping next to you (an event that only ever occurs in the heads of sit-com writers who have run out of ideas). I think I was aware of where I was before I even awake, and it was a gentle awakening as I wafted like a feather out of unconsciousness rather than being plucked. I was not in my own bedroom - the pinkiness of my surroundings confirmed that. Plus there were far too many pointless cushions and a couple of soft toys at the end of the bed.

I risked a glance over to Sarah, but saw nothing but the back of her head with its cascading ginger locks. She was breathing lightly and regularly. I joined up the moles on her back and came up with a giraffe (heck, if the Ancient Greeks can conjour a giant bear out of a dozen stars...). I wondered what the polite thing to do would be. Maybe ease myself out of bed, get dressed, leave a 'Ta, Luv' note on the kitchen table along with £30 in fivers? Or nonchantlantly and noisily traipse around the bedroom with everything a-swingin', farting, belching and scratching my @rse as if I'd always lived there?

I decided to ease myself out of bed, get dressed, and make a cup of coffee. Then wait for Sarah to get up and deal with things from there. Maybe make breakfast? This is how I'd dealt with this predicament the last time I woke up with a female in my bed. But then as that had been Colin's daughter Amber the circumstances could not have been more different.

One toe out of bed and on the floor and Sarah stirred, turned, blinked herself awake, looked at me, and smiled. Then she reached across and gave me a quick kiss. She said: Morning. I replied in kind. Then she snuggled up to me. The feel of her mammaries pressing against the side of the body got Mr Pecker all excited again; strangely I hoped Sarah wouldn't notice. I pulled my foot back under the covers as it was getting cold.

Sarah asked how I felt. Oh dear, this was definitely one of those leading female-type questions to which any answer can be interpreted in any way. So I told her I had a bit of a head. Sarah said it was usually the woman's job to feign a headache. I laughed and for some reason said it wasn't that bad. Sarah then said well, that's good news, isn't it?

She'd noticed. Her right hand, which has been idly pulling on my chest hairs, began a slow (and slightly tortuous) journey southward...

Twice within twenty-four hours. Must be Christmas.

We made breakfast together. Well, I put on and then buttered up the toast. Sarah scrambled the eggs. I didn't go into a Colin-style tirrade about how eggs are acquired from hens. Mainly as I don't really know the ins-and-outs myself. Not a fan of them myself (unless they're an excuse to be served with bacon, sausages, mushrooms, hash browns, beans, tomatoes, fried bread, toast, tea, etc, etc) as they're a bit tasteless on their own. But eggs is eggs.

So we chatted nicely over breakfast and tea and coffee (not all together). The topic that we'd just made love to each other twice in a very short period failed to arise. It was like we were straight back to being half-hearted acquantences, not two people who'd discovered that their genitalia clipped together just as God intended.

But we'd made that next step. Which I guess was the important thing.

Sarah asked how long I was intending to stay around. I sort of shrugged and explained that I had no plans for the rest of the day, which I guess was nicely non-committal. I suggested she showed me the heady sights of Southampton. Sarah said that that should kill ten minutes. She then asked if I would come with her to pick Ruth up.

Uh - not sure how I felt about that. Was it a test? Was it to see if I was genuinely interested in her and any potential relationship or just wanted a suitable parking place for my todger? I left it to my heart and my heart heard my lips voice: Sure, that'd be lovely.

I didn't know fetching Ruth would result in a walk in a cold. Sarah guided me on a detour that meant I at least got to see the sea. At least as well I got to see a bit of Southampton. And the least said about this the better.

We reached Sarah's sisters (who gave me an undeniable and a little undeserved once-over with narrow eyes) and picked up Ruth, who was taller and plumper than I'd imagined (not that she was fat enough to become the subject of a Channel 5 documentary). I got introduced purely as "Bryn" - Ruth looked at me in the way that said: I don't know who you are and guess what? I care even less.

We all walked back, playing awkwardly-happy families. Time had creaked on to three by the time we'd got back so I chose to quit whilst I seemed ahead and made my excuses. Sarah seemed oddly crestfallen by my decision, but she'd added the random element of Ruth into the mix so she'd only herself to blame. She kissed me and asked if I'd call her tomorrow. I said I would.

Drove back home, buoyed with emotion, elation and confusion. A bit of an inner battle took place all the way, but elation won in the end. Took five hours to get back but I had dinner at halfway. Came home to pizza boxes on the living room floor and boys in nothing but grubby pants on the settees working their way through a selection of DVDs. All three acknowledged my return with a grunt.

Good to be home, eh?