Io and her Satellites

I met Iolanthe on day one, week one of my first year at University. We bonded in an instant. Karma, so it would seem. Destiny, if you will. We were the same, like step-sisters from the same ethereal womb. And we were together, both platonically and romantically, for the greater part of that first year.

Of course, this wouldn't be one of my stories if fate didn't somehow enter into the proceedings and royally fuck up everything and everyone, as fate so often does.

Iolanthe, Io for short, wasn't her real name. You'd already guessed that, right? Indeed, I never, ever discovered her real name. I did notice that she never mentioned her natural mother. Not even once. She had no family that we knew of and no place she called home. All I knew was that, upon reaching eighteen years of age, she moved out of her foster home and went to live in a Kibbutz in Israel for three years and, from there, to a flop house in Madrid. That's all she would ever talk about from her past.

Io was a tall, angular woman with a long angular face, as if hewn from a large block of rather disagreeable Maple. At around twenty five years of age, she was older than the rest of our posse. She wore little or no make-up except a small amount of face paint to hide her spots and, on occasion, heavy black eye-liner though that was usually to disguise a hangover, which, in most cases, were truly whopping hangovers. Her hair was her most striking feature - just a mass of dreadlocks than ran all the way down to the middle of her back and sometimes beyond.

I was not Io's only friend. Her other friends included Euro, an impossibly tall and incredibly athletic Amazon. Physically close to perfection, Euro was also an incredible student. Quick-witted and insightful, she was a brilliant conversationalist, and we became incredibly close.

Next, there was Cally. My height. My build. My energy. Like Io and Euro, we were soulmates right from the start. I still talk to Cally. She lives in Chile these days and Facetime is our best friend.

Finally, there was Gany. I never took to Gany. Never liked her, and never had any conversations worthy of recollection. Io was fond of her although I found her shallow, vacuous and rather bland, and why she was in Io's orbit remains a mystery. I won't comment further because she has no bearing on the story to come.

Our group, our cadre, became an essential support system in those first few confusing weeks at University. We were all pretty clueless. None of us had done this before. Few of us had ever been away from home for any extended period and so, in times of stress or worry, when we found ourselves out of our depths intellectually and emotional, our small group of friends provided comfort and support, and kept each other on the straight and narrow.

Our friendship typically took the form of late night chats or early morning runs, cooking sessions, shopping trips or laundry visits. Euro and I would swim together on a regular basis, usually twice a week. Cally would cook. Gany would provide us with the gossip. Io would hold everything together with kind words and witty remarks, usually delivered from behind a veil of cigarette smoke and a glass of wine, sometimes both.

So that was our dynamic during those difficult first few weeks at University.

However, there's one additional character who must take centre stage in this Passion Play, and that's James.

James liked to think of himself as Io's boyfriend although, in reality, he was just an attendant male who had somehow fallen into Io's orbit and either would not or could not let go. He was there when she needed someone to move something heavy and occasionally when someone large and imposing was required to drag an unsavoury male who had outstayed his welcome from Io's bed but otherwise there was no real connection between James and Io.

To this day, I remain amazed that James remained so close to Io. Why didn't he just go find another friend? How he weathered so many of Io's withering remarks and acerbic jibes, and yet managed to appear seemingly indifferent to her poison is a mystery.

James sounds like a Saint, doesn't he? Wrong. One thing about James that you need to know before we go any further. And this is it.

James was a dick.

A total dick. A childish, infantile dick. I say that not out of malice or out of hate or from any negative emotion. He was, and probably still is, a total dick, and he would almost certainly agree because, by his own admission, his dickish-ness was central to his being. He was born a dick and will likely die a dick.

So how did a total dick like James become the subject of one of my missives? Here's how...

This tale had its beginnings on a Wednesday night not long before the exam season. Euro and Cally were off at the library, revising. I'd spent the greater part of the day in my room, working through past papers.

Alas, Io had spent her day either in bed or on the lawns in the local park nursing an enormous hangover of her own making. Home-brewed wine, consumed in vast quantities, has a habit of leaving you near comatose.

So, as stated, I'd spent the greater part of my day in my room, working and I had imbibed so much coffee that I was starting to get the shakes. A spot of exercise was urgently required.

Walking down the corridor in the direction of the main exit, I heard a small thin voice from within one of the bathrooms. I recognised the voice in an instant - Io. I followed the sound and found myself outside of a solid oak door which was ever-so-slightly ajar.

I knocked and entered.

Within, I found Io, submerged beneath a sea of bubbles, one leg hanging over the side of the bath. In one hand, a glass of wine. In the other, one of her unbearable French cigarettes.

"You're taking a bit of a risk, M'Dear," I said. "The lock wasn't on an you have no idea who is walking these halls."

"The lock, darling, is fucked," said Io, smiling. "And has been for some time."

A quick inspection revealed that yeah, the lock was entirely missing.

The room itself consisted of a big, white porcelain bath, Victorian by the look of it, and a crappy wooden chair next to a single, solitary towel rail.

"Pull up a pew," said Io. "Tell me what's going on in your world."

"Just the usual," I said. "Work, work and, strangely, more work..."

I was instantly shocked by the colour of her skin. Usually pale to the point of being iridescent, Io was, instead, lobster red, a consequence of spending so much time outside, on her back, sleeping off another drinking binge.

"Have you done any work?" I asked. "Because you look like you've spent all day underneath a tanning booth."

"I'm fine," she said. "Just stings a bit..."

"You okay?" she fired back, taking an impossibly long drag on her cigarettes. "You look tired."

"I am tired, but I'd be concerned if I wasn't."

Io sat up. "Do me a favour, love," she said. "There's a bottle of bubble bath in my bag. Can you pass it over here?"

I found her bag, had a rummage around inside and withdrew a large pink container.

"Ta," she said as I handed it to her. She unrolled the cap and tipped the entire contents into the water.

"Just in case someone walks in," she said. "Can't see shit with this much bubbles!"

"Anyway, you off out?" she asked.

"Going for a walk," I said. "I need to stretch my legs. My ass has gone to sleep."

"Why not get in?" she said. "Plenty of room. A soak in the tub will make you sleep sounder than tramping the streets. And it's safer too."

Truth be told, I really didn't want to go out walking. I didn't really want to slip into a bath either. I just wanted to get back to my desk and continue working.

"Go on," said Io. "Twenty minutes and I'll kick you out personally."

"What about the broken lock?"

"What about it? There's enough bubbles. So what if someone barges in? What are they gonna see?"

Fair point, I suppose.

"It's mostly women up this end anyway," continued Io. "And the only bloke likely to stick his nose in here is James and he doesn't even count as a bloke these days."

"I thought James was off out boozing tonight anyway," I said. "He finished his exams on Monday."

"Yeah, they were going to that Gentlemen's Club on Dene Street," said Io.

"He'll get skinned," I said. "Those places don't take prisoners."

Io pulled up her knees and patted the water. "Come on," she said. "Plenty of room."

So... I got undressed as quickly as I could, under Io's watchful eye, and slipped into the steaming hot water with as little fuss as possible.

"How come this is so hot?" I asked.

"I keep topping it up with water from a kettle," said Io.

"A kettle? Where?"

"Here," said Io pulling on a power cord.

Err, yeah. You're right. She'd brought a fucking electric kettle into the bathroom.

"Usually James tops me up but, with him being off out, I have to do it myself," said Io.

"When?"

"Just now," said Io. "Just before you came in."

"How?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, yes. I don't particularly fancy getting electrocuted just before my exams"

"You'll be fine, seriously," said Io. "The circuit breakers will pop out before any major current arrives. Don't worry."

We spent the next twenty minutes discussing the relative merits or otherwise of bringing an electric kettle into the bathroom. Io also claimed that she had recently enjoyed the use of a Brevil Sandwich Toaster and a Slow Cooker, and that nobody had noticed so that made it alright, no?

I started to suspect she was winding me up.

Yeah, she was. The kettle was just one big joke. It was just length of cable with nothing on the other end, intended purely to wind James up, as was her habit.

I was always puzzled and bemused by her dynamic with James. Io and James were close, so close that it was common to enter Io's room and find James asleep in an armchair and Io lying on the bed, sometimes half dressed, although frequently naked, and yet they never had sex or did anything remotely sexual. That said, Io had a very relaxed attitude to nudity. She would happily take her clothes off in front of anyone, usually at the drop of a hat.

Presently, there came a knock on the door. "Who is it?" shouted Io.

"James," said James.

"What do you want, James?" said Io, stirnly.

"To talk,"

"I'm busy," said Io. "Or more correctly, we're busy."

"Who's in there?" asked James.

"None of your fucking business, James..."

"You're not supposed to have more than one person in the bathrooms at once," said James.

"Doesn't apparently stop you leering over my tits, does it, eh, James?"

There came a pause. "You're not cooking in there, are you?"

Io shook her head. "No, of course not," she said. "Why would I be cooking in here?"

"Because I can smell sausage sandwich toasties up and down the hall way and so can everyone else," whispered James. "They reckon it's you, cooking stuff up in the bathroom again."

"Can't be me cooking sausage sandwiches, can it, numb-nuts?" said Io.

"It can," said James.

"James, I'm a fucking vegan!" shouted Io. "Have been for ten fucking years. Hardly likely that I'm going to nip into the bathroom for a clandestine sausage sarnie, eh? Fucking dimwit."

"Io!" shouted James. "There's a fucking empty wrapper here, lying on the floor outside the bathroom door. It's marked 'Two dozen finest Cumberland Sausages'"

"It's not mine..."

"I bet it is..." said James.

Another pause.

"Now, look, Iolanthe," whispered James. "I'm the Hall Monitor, which means I'm responsible for Fire Safety and Prevention. I need to know if you have a sandwich toaster in there."

"I don't, you fucking Boy Scout!" shouted Io. "Now fuck off or I'll tell your Mommy."

"Io!" shouted James. "Either let me in or I kick the door in,"

"Fuck off, dick head!" whispered Io.

"Did you just tell an Appointed Hall Official to 'fuck off'?"

"Ooooohhhh!" shrieked Io. "An Appointed Hall Official, eh? Get him. Fuck off, you self important prick."

"Did you just tell me to fuck off?" shouted James.

"I did," said Io. "Twice. Now, since you appear to be hard of hearing, will you kindly fuck right off?"

"Right, I'm going to kick the door in," said James.

"Quick!" shouted Io. "Reach under the bath and see if that fucking toaster has cooled off yet!"

"What" I said. "What toaster?"

"The fucking toaster hidden under the bath," said Io in a loud, commanding tone.

"It's not plugged in, is it?"

Io smiled. "Of course not," she whispered. "Cos' there isn't one. Do you honestly think I'd be so stupid as to bring a bloody toaster into the bathroom?"

I shook my head.

"I just want him to think there's one in here,"

"But he'll go fetch his mates..."

Io laughed out loud. "Exactly," she said. "And he'll look an even bigger dick head."

"Right, I'm coming in," said James. "You better be dressed appropriately."

"James! I'm naked. I'm in the bath. If you walk in here then I guarantee you won't be able to walk out. Do you understand?"

"I'm coming in!" shouted James.

James put his shoulder to the door and pushed hard.

He landed on the tiled floor in an undignified heap, and smacked his chin on the floor so hard it began to bleed.

Io had filled the empty bottle of bubble bath with steaming hot water from the tap and threw the contents over James, who immediately screamed. Loudly.

"Get out, you fucking pervert!" shouted Io.

Seconds later, bodies began to appear, in twos and threes, in the doorway.

"You okay, Io?" asked the Floor Supervisor, a large male of around forty years wearing a pair of Cargo shorts and sandals but not much else.

"Sure," said Io. "Just this Boob here insists we've got a sandwich toaster hidden away in the bathroom."

"And have you?" asked the Supervisor.

"Of course not," said Io. "Do I look stupid?"

"Do I need to call the Cops?" said the Supervisor.

Io smiled. "No," she said. "But maybe call a Med Student. Perhaps James here can get his chin patched up."

A pool of the red stuff had formed beneath James. He looked furious.

The Supervisor went ever so slightly red in the face and said, in a whisper, "James! My room! Ten sharp tomorrow morning. Understand?"

James nodded.

Like I said, he's a Dick.

The crowds began to drift away until it was just us three once again. Nobody seemed to care that there were two ladies sharing a bath. Maybe this happened more often than I realised?

"You're a fucking cow," said James.

"And you're just a silly little prick," said Io. "A silly little self-important prick."

"Fuck off," said James as he picked himself up off the floor, all the while dabbing away at the rather nasty cut on his chin.

James left without closing the door.

Io just smiled and took another sip of wine.

"He seems mighty pissed," I said. "What if he comes back?"

"Oh, he'll be back," said Io. "In fact, he'll be back in a matter of minutes."

"Really? Why?"

"Because he can't help himself," said Io. "He has little or no self control."

"And.. besides," said Io, gesturing flamboyantly. "Boobies. He'll be back for the taters."

Io handed me her glass and invited me to sip. I accepted because... why not?

We lay there talking for a few minutes and, presently, and exactly as predicted, James reappeared outside of the bathroom door. He knocked once and said. "Hey, I need to apologise."

"Apologise from out there," said Io. "We're busy in here."

"Sorry," he said. "I need to say this face to face."

"You and both know that's a shitty excuse, James," said Io. "Say what you have to say from out there and then go back to your room."

"I'm sorry for busting in on you," he said. The door opened by about an inch or so.

"You busted in on us, darling," said Io. "Two gals enjoying a joyous, leisurely soak and you spoiled it with your silly attitude and your fucked-up deluded self importance."

"Sorry,' said James, the door opening just a little more.

"James, I swear, if you come through that door and fuck up my karma one more time then I will seriously do you some major fucking harm," barked Io. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," he said, sounding more than a little crestfallen. James backed off but not for long. He returned only a matter of minutes later.

"I can't get in my room," he said. "I've locked myself out and the Porter has knocked off early."

"So?" said Io. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Can I doss at yours for the night?" he asked.

"No, you fucking can't," said Io. "I have company and expect to spend the greater part of this evening with my head buried in a nice pair of thighs."

I sat up rather boldly and said "Sorry? What?"

"Sshhh," said Io, smiling. "I'm just yanking his chain."

"Whose thighs?" asked James.

"Mine, I hope," I said, joining in the fun.

Io smiled.

"Aw, fuck..." mumbled James.

"Go sleep in the Box Room," said Io.

"It's full of dust and spiders and other people's shit," said James. "I'll go sleep on a park bench. Safer there..."

"I wish you'd man-up, James," said Io. "You really are a bit of a softy..."

"There's someone coming," said James. "Can I come in?"

"No, you can't," said Io. "Please, just fuck off..."

James entered anyway.

"I swear to God Almighty that if you give me any more stress then I'll will quietly drown you in this fucking bath, James," said Io. "I fucking mean it..."

James looked genuinely frightened. "Don't worry. I'll be cool," he said.

He shut the door behind him as gently as he could.

"Anyway," said Io, gulping directly from another bottle of wine. "I thought you were out with your friends at that Gentleman's Club?"

"I was," said James. "Until I got kicked out."

"Huh?" said Io. "Why? What did you do?"

"Ran out of money..." he replied in a whisper.

"How much did you spend, or lose," said Io. "Same difference in those places..."

"Not sure," said James. "Couple of hundred..."

Io exploded. "How much? A couple of hundred? Pounds? Or what? Exactly how many hundreds are we talking?" she shouted.

"Two," said James.

"Two hundred quid? Two hundred quid on what?"

"Nothing," said James. "Just a lap dance and, after that, a private dance in one of the cubicles."

"And any extras? Champagne by any chance?"

James nodded.

"How much per bottle?" asked Io. "Sixty quid? Seventy?"

"Eighty," said James.

"Eighty quid a bottle? Fuck! And what did you see?"

James sighed. "Her tits. Her twat. Her ass. That's about it."

"You could have stayed home and had all of that for nowt," said Io. "Couldn't he, Sarah?"

I smiled but otherwise shook my head. "Nope..."

"Not the same," said James. "I can get that anytime."

"Oh, can you?" said Io.

"I've lost count of the number of times I've seen your twot," said James. "Every time we go out some place, you're always nipping down a back lane for a piss and then everyone gets to see it. Its like your party piece."

"Two hundred quid, James!" said Io. "You told me you were broke last week."

"I was," said James. "My Mum sent me something to keep me going."

"Have you got enough to repay me what you owe me?"

James nodded. "Just about..."

Remember, I'm still here, sitting quietly at the far end of the bath whilst this shit storm unfurls in front of me.

"Here, Sarah," said Io. "Have a slurp." Io passed me her bottle.

"Not much left," I said, looking at the last inch or so in the bottom of the bottle.

"No worries," she replied. " I have another two bottles stashed away."

Io popped another cork and knocked back a couple of swigs on that one.

"Your turn," she said, handing me the bottle.


"Nope!" I said " I'm not getting drunk. I need my shit together. Exams and stuff..."

"Fair point," said Io. "But, seriously James. Those places are an absolute rip off. How they're legal is just a mystery."

Skip forward twenty minutes. I've had two or three swigs from the bottle and, well, I'm starting to feel tipsy, and not a little horny too. A small part of this is the hot water although the greater part is because Io has been furtively touching me up under the water. First my ankles, then my calves and now my thighs. And now I'm feeling all warm and giggly, and up for some fun. Seriously. That's all it takes.