Lucio and the Ape were playing snooker when she arrived. She didn't knock – she just came straight in. Lucio and the Ape stopped playing and stared.
Ginger Jane was tall. She had long red hair and red lips and big boobs out front. When she moved she swayed like a snake coasting down a sand dune. When she tossed her head back her hair billowed out like a sail.
"The Great Lucio?" she said.
"That is I," Lucio said. "I mean – I am him." His face went completely red.
Ginger Jane offered her hand. It glittered with rings. When he kissed her hand she turned her head away.
"Oh, and you must be the Ape!" she said, offering her hand to the flabbergasted Ape, who took it and kissed it as Lucio had done.
Then she sat on a chair, crossing her legs and curling a strand of hair around one finger. "Well?"
"Huh?" Lucio said.
The Ape was staring at her legs.
"You are looking for a boarder? Or are you wasting my time?"
"Oh no. Of course. It's just that I didn't expect a..."
"A what?"
Lucio went red again. "Didn't expect you here so soon." He went on quickly. "I'll show you around. This is, ah, the Snooker Room. It has a lovely view of the garden. The table is an original, made by -"
"I don't care for games," said Ginger Jane.
"Oh," said The Great Lucio.
The Ape put its cue down.
Lucio said, "Come along then, ah..."
"Jane. Ginger Jane. Miss Ginger Jane."
"Miss Jane. Lovely."
He led her though the door that opened into the kitchen. The Ape went to follow, but Lucio closed the door quickly behind himself.
The Ape was alone.
It packed the balls away and clambered up onto a chair and sat there with its legs crossed. It sighed an enormous sigh and dropped its chin onto its hand and gazed out the window.
Ginger Jane became the new boarder, which I discovered has nothing to do with wood, but means someone who pays to live somewhere, in case you didn't know. Because there were only two bedrooms the Ape had to sleep on the couch in the Snooker Room.
Each morning Ginger Jane would go to the bathroom, stopping at the kitchen to put the kettle on. The Ape, or perhaps Lucio, would be in the kitchen when she came in. She'd say: "Good morning," stretching her arms back behind her head so that her nightie would ride up her legs. Then she'd tiptoe to the bathroom. I saw Lucio break an egg on the stovetop once.
She left her clothes all over the place. Bras hung from towel racks and stockings lay about like snakeskins.
After a while there was a layer of dust on the snooker table.
Ginger Jane would pay lots of attention to Lucio, ignoring the Ape – this would go on for a week or so – but then she'd suddenly start pouring affection on the Ape and ignoring Lucio. It was all very strange.
"She's a psycho," I said to Sophie one night after Ginger Jane had flounced about the Ape for half an hour. "It's the only explanation."
"She's not," Sophie said. "You don't understand."
"What don't I understand?"
"About sex."
"And you do?"
"More than you. Girls mature earlier than boys."
This didn't sound right to me, but I couldn't argue with Sophie. She had her women's magazines to back her up – I had nothing. I didn't even know what sex was. Sometimes when I thought about Ginger Jane I got a boner. I wondered what Sophie and her magazines would have to say about that. Anyway, I wasn't about to ask Sophie about sex. I didn't need to be lectured by her.