I hated the thought of her being on her own – without her children – on an evening like this.
I wondered if she used to lie on her sofa, as I did, and think about how lucky she was? She had been so patient with my marital woes, from day one, and hadn’t asked for much in return.
I had done little to help her, other than distracting her with my nonsense. I decided to send a text and see if she wanted to meet up tomorrow, not for launch night preparations or for some problem I needed fixing, just for a chat.
Amy: Lunch at mine tomorrow? X
Elle: Sure, I’ll bring the restraints I hear socks are nowhere near as durable these days.
Amy: Bitch. See you then.
I felt better already, like a decent friend.
I'll make something. No, wait, I am trying to be nice so I probably shouldn't subject her to my cooking. I'll buy lunch in and we will sit in my kitchen and I'll try to help her like she's been helping me.
Geez first therapy and now being a better friend, I certainly am on the road to becoming the perfect person today.
I felt smug as I packed the kids off to bed and decided to return to the book I’d been trying to read for the last year, while taking a bath.
I barely remembered the plot but I'd made it this far and I wasn't starting again. I had just settled into my bubbles when I heard a knock at the door. I predicted that it was Adam wanting to talk about the existential meaning of life.
“Yes, sweety,” I called.
“It’s me, can I come in?” said Ben.
“Of course,” I replied, trying not to sound too surprised by his visit.
“I was just thinking about your effort to try and get things back on track here and because you’re so receptive to the therapy idea I thought I should put some effort in too,” he said. He was sheepishly standing in the doorway, edging his way in and then locking the door behind him.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“Nothing quite as exciting as you had on Friday, I thought I could keep you company in the bath, I mean I do remember you wanting this particular one because it was big enough for two?”
“Oh really? Then afterwards we could try this thing called the ‘rusty trombone’ that Elle was talking about today.” I added, excitedly.
“Do you know what that is, Amy?”
“Not really, she said Keith loved it though and I thought we could look it up.”
“It involves putting your tongue in my bum.”
“Oh. Right. Maybe just the bath then.”
“Yeah, maybe just the bath.”
The water level nearly spilled onto the ground when he came in, but the crisis was averted when he accidentally sat on the plug, popping it up and letting a portion of it out.
We settled into the water and although he complained about the temperature being too hot, he sat with me regardless. We talked about the kids, about the prospect of a holiday and about the start of our relationship when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I would never have guessed that we'd be faced with a sex drought back then. Then again, I didn’t think I would be married with kids either.
When the water started to get cold and our fingers wrinkled, he got out of the bath and got the towels that were heating on the radiator. We wrapped ourselves up and continued to talk nonsense. We faced each other on the bed, not really drying off, just enjoying the conversation
When I eventually got up to dry my hair he pulled me back to the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
He drew me in closer and I enjoyed the smell that was distinctly his.
I’d come home.
Chapter 25
Reader, I banged him.
That’s as close to Jane Eyre as my story gets.
The drought was over.
I wished that I could have woken up the next day completely cured, without the need for therapy and all our marital problems sorted, but I didn’t. It was a nice evening though.
Ben certainly had a spring in his step, and he brought me toast and tea in bed – unheard of on a school morning.
He was happy; I loved that something so simple could do that for him.
With one aspect of my life finally getting back to where it should be, I decided today would be about cultivating my friendship with Elle and seeing what I could do to be a decent person.
I went to the shop and got lots of little tubs from the deli counter so we could stuff our faces with buffet-type nibbles and chat. I bypassed the alcohol section and decided if I were to add wine into the occasion I would end up getting pissed, talking nonsense – probably about myself – and not find out any information about Elle.
She arrived around 1 p.m. and while Arthur had his nap, we sat down at the table in the kitchen to eat.
“Well, what’s the special occasion here?” she asked.
“It has come to my attention that we have been very busy distracting me from my problems and as much as I appreciate that, I wanted to be a decent friend and see what I could do for you. Not distract you, of course, just talk about things properly.”
I sat and waited for the free flow of information to spring forth. I prepared myself to listen, and not pass any advice or judgments, until the end. I knew it would take a while for her to get it all out, after all, she’d been bottling it all up for weeks and now was her time to vent. I would sit with her, dry her tears and just be that sister she never had.
“No thanks, arsehole, I much prefer solving your life drama than mine – what’s for lunch?”
Is that it?
I tried again: “I know you might be a bit reluctant to open up, but I really think it will be good for you.”
“Nah, is that couscous?”
“Elle, a problem shared is a problem halved.” I continued, in my best calm voice. A voice reserved for when my children are pushing my buttons in public.
“I’ve never understood that phrase; I’ve always found a problem shared is a problem doubled. You tend to bum out the other person too and I’m in a good mood today, so I don’t want to think about it. Did I tell you I got a dress for the launch? I look pretty rocking in it, and it makes it look like my tits are defying gravity.”
This is getting ridiculous.
“No, you get a sense of camaraderie with sharing your feelings with others.”
She didn’t look convinced as she plopped the egg salad onto her plate.
“Since when have you become so zen? Are you high? Are you? Is that why you called me here? Were you just pretending to do this boring lunch? Are we going to blaze up and lie out in the garden, this afternoon? I knew you were a legend,” she squealed.
“No! You’re not here to get high, you raving lunatic. I just wanted it to be about you for a change instead of me, I was trying to be a decent person with my ‘boring lunch’.”
We sat facing each other at my table, both of us picking at our food lost in our own thoughts.
“I can’t believe you thought I wanted to get high with you,” I said.
“Well, I don’t know! You’re not exactly all about the sharing; it's like pulling teeth with you most of the time so I thought it was a trick to get me around here.”
“Says you? I’m trying to get you to talk about something other than me, for a change, and you’re just insulting my delicious food.”
“Did you make this?”
“That’s not the point!”
We let ten minutes pass before either of us dared to look up from our plates.
“Do you want to go through the final checklist for the party?” she offered.
“Fine,” I replied, tersely.
“I got the fairy lights and I’m just going to put them everywhere there is space, oh and an artist friend of mine is making a few fake cherry blossom trees for the entrances front and back, I think it will be beautiful.”
“I haven’t even thought of a dress yet, I’m sure there’s something in the wardrobe. A couple of the local paper
s are sending photographers and that student photographer guy, Marcus, said he would be there to take a few shots of people milling about for the social media side of things,” I added.
“Why don’t we bunk off, this evening? I’ve got a voucher for this new leisure club we could just float about in the pool and lie in the steam room – we have to get our ageing, decrepit skin picture-ready for the launch,” she suggested excitedly.
It had been years since I’d been in a steam room. I hated the heat, but I remembered reading about the benefit of steam for your pores. The breakout of adult acne on my chin resembled a blotchy goatee, so I agreed to go.
“It’s a date,” I said.
We ate the rest of the meal in silence and I felt like I’d failed, but at least in a steam room she’d have nowhere to hide and maybe she’d feel brave enough to talk in person.
***
That evening, I was waved off by the menfolk and I drove to meet Elle at the leisure club. It was very plush and I was already unnerved by the ridiculously attractive woman at the reception desk.
“You look like you're about to crap yourself,” said Elle, as we walked up to the changing rooms. “Just get your kit off and let's relax.”
Despite all the hang-ups I had about my body, I didn’t mind getting into a swimming suit. I didn’t love it, but I wasn’t at a point where I refused to put one on and not go to the pool. I did spend the majority of my time in the changing room, pleading with the universe that I didn’t meet anyone I knew.
I was confident that I wouldn’t meet anyone in this place, it had only been open a week and it usually took the people in town a year to try anything new.
We dove into the dimly-lit pool and I did a few half-hearted lengths while Elle rested her head on her arms at the side of the water, kicking out her legs.
“Are you not swimming?” I gasped, as I tried to catch my breath.
“Nah, can’t swim. I’m just here for the lying around part.”
We stayed in the water for ten minutes before I started to feel bad about Elle being bored. I suggested we went into the steam room first and lie there for a while.
She can open up her pores and her heart. God, I’m a genius.
As the name suggested, it was very steamy when we entered. We assumed we were the only two there, so we spread out and lay on opposite benches.
“Elle?”
“Hmmm?”
“Tell me what’s going on with you and Keith please, I want to help.”
“For goodness sake, can't a girl just get her steam on without this touchy-feeling talk? Next, you'll be wanting to hug,” she snapped.
I didn’t reply, I was happy that the steam was hiding my scarlet face. I clearly wasn’t helping the situation. After about a minute she said: “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean that and if you want to hug that’s fine too. I like hugs.
“It's rubbish, Amy. I brought up the topic of counselling again and he was completely shocked that I would suggest it, as far as he knew ‘we’ were completely over.”
“Is he seeing someone else?”
“I don’t know, maybe. I didn’t ask and to be honest I don’t want to know. By the end of the conversation, we agreed that we should only have contact with each other when it was directly to do with the girls. We also agreed not be one of those couples who trade horrible text messages and wind up hating each other.
“I don’t know if he’s staying with his parents indefinitely or finding somewhere new. I don’t know if this is a trial separation or this is a divorce. I’m too afraid to ask him in case he says something I really don’t want to hear. I mean I know things were a bit rubbish but I didn’t know we were heading to splitsville.”
“If I could find you I’d give you a hug,” I offered, “I’m sorry this is happening to you and the girls, is there anything I can do to help?”
I couldn’t manage to think of anything less trite than that.
“No thanks, Princess.” It was all she managed to say before the emotion in her voice betrayed her.
The heat was making me sleepy so I closed my eyes and let myself relax while I tried to think of something more helpful to say. I needed to think of something practical that would make her life easier.
I felt a breeze come in and assumed that someone had walked into the room. I let out a cough to make sure they knew other people were here.
I could have her over for dinner on nights she feels lonely? Maybe take up a new hobby or even come here once a week. It was so relaxing here.
I felt my subconscious dropping deeper and I knew sleep wouldn’t be far off. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be particularly safe to fall asleep here so I decided to open my eyes and sit up. I lifted my head slightly and found that it made contact with a rather large, rather sweaty arse that was just about to put its full weight on top of me.
I tried to scream in surprise but as I opened my mouth it was filled with a section of the owner’s pink, hairy skin. Thankfully they must have noticed something awry because they jumped up into a standing position.
“Oh my God, what do you think you’re doing?” asked, the bum’s owner.
I was too busy coughing and picking out one of his hairs from the tip of my tongue to reply. Instead, I struggled towards the door and hoped I wouldn’t encounter anymore foreign body parts en route.
I got outside and started to breathe deep, free from ass invasions.
“I asked you a question!” the man, shouted.
The owner of the ass had followed me outside, a towel now wrapped around his lower half.
“I’m sorry?” I was confused as to why me, the victim, was being shouted at by him, the owner of the offending ass cheeks.
A member of staff came walking over to check who was disturbing the lovely serene atmosphere.
“Excuse me, sir, what seems to be the problem?”
“I’ll tell you what the problem is: there’s been an assault,” he fumed.
“I would hardly call it an assault, it was an accident and I’m not likely to press charges,” I laughed, nervously.
“I don’t think this is a laughing matter here, miss, it is I who has been assaulted by you!”
What fresh hell is this?
At this point, Elle came out to see what the commotion was about and realised I was in the centre of it.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on here, I went into enjoy a steam and I have been grossly assaulted by this woman who took it upon herself to bite me on my bottom,” he roared.
There wasn’t a single person pretending not to be listening to every single word. His face was practically puce in colour, as he shouted about his traumatic experience. All I could do was just stand there, humiliated, and wondered how this had happened.
He, along with Elle and the bemused-looking member of staff were all looking at me expectedly for some sort of explanation as to why I thought this kind of behaviour was appropriate.
“I obviously didn’t mean to do it!” I said, exasperated.
“I was lying down with my eyes closed and he backed his hairy arse into my face. If anything, I’m the traumatized party here! If anything, I should be given some water and a crash course in dealing with PTSD instead of being accused of assaulting someone. Why weren’t you wearing any swimwear, I’m going to be picking hair out of my teeth for a week!”
By the time I finished my tirade, I had gone bright pink and wanted the ground to swallow me up.
“Settle, petal,” soothed Elle. “Clearly this was a misunderstanding, my friend and I were just here relaxing. The gentleman didn’t see us with the steam – these things happen.”
The member of staff seemed relieved to be talking to someone with a cooler head – physically and emotionally – and offered all of us a free spa treatment as compensation.
“I won’t be paid off with a free manicure,” said my victim. “I want to talk to the manager.”
He strode off in his towel wit
h the staff member and headed towards the office.
“Can we go before I’m arrested, please,” I said to Elle. “Or at least get dressed so I’m not dragged away in handcuffs in my swimwear. I know you’re giggling behind me.”
I went into the changing rooms to scrape back some dignity from my ‘relaxing’ experience when I heard:
“Amy Cole as I live in breathe! Here we are again!”
Fuck my fucking life
“Hi Rita,” I replied, with my usual level of enthusiasm.
“Are you a member here? That is such a surprise! This place is so expensive but with all the new business I’m bringing into the company I just thought to myself ‘go on, Rita, splurge!’ so I did and here I am. Surprised to see you here. Delighted, of course, but just thought it would be a teensy bit out of your price range with the kids and the no job thing.
“Have you met Milo yet? He’s an angel with the hands of a god. I swear, the man can work miracles. I’m so stressed out with climbing the career ladder, the move to the bigger apartment and out every night, wining and dining clients. Ugh, just exhausting! I make sure to see him once a week to work out the old kinks and get me back up to 110 percent. Well, not ‘old’ kinks, I’m not you! Ha! JKJK, darling. Such a pleasure to see you, I love our little catch-ups. I will definitely text you during the week and we will have brunch – or I’ll even call to your house, I’m sure you’d prefer to be indoors instead of out with rowdy kids in a restaurant. Love ya!”
After another run-in with Rita, I thought that being arrested for assault wouldn’t be the worst part of my day. Elle gave me a sympathetic nudge and said: “Let’s get dressed and see if your teeth have left a mark on that poor man’s bum, you kinky weirdo.”
By the time we got to the reception, the member of staff who had been dealing with us outside the steam room was waiting for me. I braced myself for what new humiliation I was to be faced with.
“Hi ladies, as promised here’s your voucher for the free spa treatment and I wanted to apologise for the scene earlier. I hope your time here was enjoyable otherwise?”
Amy Cole has lost her mind: The perfect laugh out loud, feel-good comedy (The Amy Cole series Book 1) Page 20