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Any Chance Of A Sympathy Shag?

People need sex for different reasons. So is there really anything wrong with having it off with someone just to make them feel better?

Anne Sexton, 19 Jan 2012

Ronan is sitting on my couch, his brow troubled. He rolls a cigarette – his normally deft fingers clumsy with the effort.

I offer him a cup of tea. It seems an inadequate response, but I am at a loss. What exactly is the correct response to the announcement of a marital separation? Perhaps whiskey. But it’s 11 o’clock in the morning. Besides which, he arrived in his car. Given all of this, and his emotional state too, alcohol seems out of the question.

I wonder why he has chosen to confide in me. We are not friends – although we are not complete strangers either. Our relationship is friendly, but professional. I helped him write the text for his website, and now whenever he needs a press release or some bumpf for a catalogue, I give his language a spit and polish. If he were a friend I’d do it for free. Instead I send him an invoice and he sends me a cheque.

When he called and asked to see me I presumed it was work, and perhaps it is, but he is distracted and I don’t like to ask. My mind flits back to all the unfinished tasks I have to do today. I reproach myself for my selfishness. What is a missed deadline compared to a wife who has asked you to move out?

He takes a long, deep gulp from the mug. It seems to help.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” I ask.

He nods his head and begins. I sit quietly and listen.

Not for the first time I wonder if I should have been a psychologist, a professional advice giver with consulting rooms and an hourly rate. Instead I am the unsung Mother Teresa of family dramas, broken hearts, panic attacks, sexual failures, night time terrors and modern spiritual malaise, administering tea and sympathy to friends, lovers, ex-boyfriends and, now it appears, to clients.

I make sympathetic noises and interjections, and perhaps that’s all that’s required. When he is done he asks if he can have some more tea. As I reach over to pick up his cup, his hand brushes mine. He looks at me with naked hunger. In an instant it all becomes crystal clear. I know why he is here.



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