by Sophie Hart
‘I can have the Broads Brewery presentation to you by ten am tomorrow,’ Nick began, aware that he was gabbling. ‘And Maria can lead the meeting this afternoon. I’ll ask her to email me the minutes tonight so I can look over them at home.’
‘You’re making something of a habit of this, Nick.’ Gerard’s tone was disapproving.
‘I know. I really am sorry. I wouldn’t ask unless it was extremely important.’
‘Fine,’ Gerard agreed eventually. ‘But you’ll need to make up the hours, and check that Maria’s happy to cover for you.’
‘I will. Thank you,’ Nick replied, visibly relieved. ‘See you next week, Nina,’ he added, as he dashed out of the door.
Nick took the stairs two at a time – no point in waiting for the lift – and hurried across the car park, sliding into the five-door, silver BMW 3 Series that he’d bought a few months ago. It was large, comfortable and – most importantly – a family car. Julia had insisted on it.
The traffic was light in the early afternoon, and the drive home was uneventful, but Nick could feel his anger growing with every mile he covered.
He would have to speak to Julia, he decided firmly, and tell her that she couldn’t keep doing this – dragging him out of work and insisting that he come home for yet another session in the bedroom. It was okay for Julia; she was self-employed, running her own business as an events planner, so she could take a few hours off whenever she felt like it. But it was different for Nick. Gerard was clearly annoyed and, in the current financial climate, aggravating his boss really wasn’t a clever idea. Nick enjoyed his job and wanted to keep it; it wasn’t worth risking for a quickie with his wife.
The traffic lights turned red and Nick hit the brake, drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as he thought about his situation. He and Julia had been trying for a baby for almost a year now, and Julia was becoming increasingly desperate with every month that passed. Take last night, for example – almost as soon as they’d eaten their evening meal, Julia had been eager to get Nick into bed. He would happily have crashed out on the sofa and watched an episode or two of their Breaking Bad box set, but Julia wasn’t taking no for an answer. Then, around five am, Nick woke blearily to find Julia’s hands snaking into his pyjama bottoms, insistent on round two. He’d done his best to oblige but today, quite frankly, he was exhausted.
With a pang, Nick thought back to when he and Julia had first made the decision to start a family. Together, they’d discussed the idea of becoming parents, wanting to wait until the time was right and they were financially stable, certain that their days of wild partying were out of their system and that they were ready to cope with sleepless nights and dirty nappies.
Those first few weeks of trying to conceive were simultaneously thrilling and terrifying, their love-making charged with an extra intensity. They weren’t fooling around any more – they were actually trying to create a whole new person, one who would irreversibly change both of their lives forever.
Every month, Nick and Julia experienced the thrill of waiting to see what the outcome would be, regularly finding themselves huddled together over a pregnancy test stick, watching for that double line to appear.
But it never did.
Every time, the test was negative and, every four weeks, Julia’s period arrived, as regular as clockwork.
Their love-making took on a more frantic quality, their initial excitement gradually giving way to frustration and recrimination. Julia began reading books on fertility and following faddy diets. She was forever wandering around the house with a thermometer under her tongue, taking her temperature to determine the optimum days for conception, and—
A car horn blared, and Nick looked up in alarm, realising that the lights had turned green. He revved the engine and set off in a rush.
Almost before Nick’s eyes, Julia had begun to change from the woman he’d married into someone else – someone irritable, emotional and obsessed with getting pregnant. In turn, Nick had changed too – he was defensive, angry, withdrawn – and he didn’t like the person he’d become. The worst part was that he had no idea how to change things for the better, how to rediscover the sense of fun and freedom that he’d so loved when they’d first started dating just a few short years ago.
Julia had been a joy back then. Nick had been utterly mesmerised by her, remembering the way they would stay up until the early hours, sharing a bottle of wine and making plans for the future, or how she would look at him across a crowded room and instantly make him feel like the luckiest man alive.
Now, everything had changed. Nothing was fun, nothing was spontaneous. Julia’s only focus was on getting pregnant; her only topics of conversation were natural birth versus an epidural, baby names, Lamaze classes and C-sections.
As Nick pulled into the driveway of his house, he noticed that, despite the fact it was barely two pm, the bedroom curtains were drawn. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the living room blinds twitch and realised that Julia had been watching out of the window, waiting for him to come home.
Nick turned off the ignition and sat for a moment, mentally preparing himself for what was about to happen. He yawned widely, his bodily utterly shattered. Then, knowing he couldn’t put it off any longer, he got out of the car and walked towards the front door.
He’d barely had a chance to put the key in the lock when the door swung open. Julia’s hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him inside. As promised, she was wearing sexy black lingerie – a lacy all-in-one number, with red bows and cut-out panels – but the look on her face was angry.
‘What took you so long?’ she demanded.
Nick opened his mouth to reply, but Julia cut him off. ‘Never mind, just get upstairs.’
Nick followed her dutifully, mesmerised by the wiggle of her semi-naked bottom as she climbed the stairs in front of him. He reached out to caress it, but Julia slapped his hand away.
‘Stop it, Nick,’ she snapped. ‘There’s no time. According to the test, I’m ovulating right now.’
She dragged him into the bedroom and Nick saw that she’d switched off the overhead light, just the bedside lamp turned on to illuminate the room.
‘Right, let’s get on with it.’ Julia’s tone was brisk as she slipped out of her underwear, letting it drop onto the fluffy carpet. Nick watched her – his beautiful wife, her full breasts swaying, her dark blonde hair falling seductively across her face. He moved across to kiss her, but Julia looked at him in alarm.
‘What are you doing? Why aren’t you getting undressed?’
Nick let out a barely audible sigh, wondering how it had come to this. He’d sneaked out of work for a fast, frantic afternoon quickie with a woman who was desperate to get him into bed. It should have been the ultimate fantasy, but instead it was rapidly turning into one of the unsexiest moments of his life.
‘Julia,’ he began, wanting to try to explain the way he was feeling. But the look she gave him shut him up immediately, and Nick decided it was easiest just to get on with the job at hand. He bent down to untie his laces, stepping out of his work shoes and unzipping his trousers. Moments later, he was fully undressed, and Julia pounced.
‘Come on, big boy. Show me what you’re made of!’
Despite his reservations, Nick was a red-blooded, heterosexual male, and at the sight of his gorgeous, naked wife, his body naturally responded. Julia smiled wickedly, pushing him back onto the bed and climbing on top of him.
‘I’ve been doing some reading, and new research suggests that girl-on-top might be surprisingly effective when looking to conceive,’ she informed him matter-of-factly, as she wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.
‘Uh huh,’ Nick replied, wondering when his sex life had become as thrilling as watching a documentary on the potato famine. Everything about the experience seemed cold and clinical, with both of them merely going through the motions. There’d been no kissing, no foreplay, no indication at all that this was a loving act between
a happily married couple. Nick was starting to get the uncomfortable feeling that Julia saw him as little more than a convenient sperm donor.
As his wife moved robotically on top of him, Nick found himself staring in frustration at the cracks in the ceiling, his mind wandering to the pitch he should have been writing that afternoon. Maybe he could add in a paragraph about national patterns of beer consumption, jazz it up with a few more photos from Shutterstock, then—
‘Hurry up, Nick,’ Julia barked, interrupting his thoughts. ‘Are you nearly there yet?’
Her voice startled Nick out of his daydreams, and he suddenly realised with blinding clarity that they couldn’t carry on like this. Sex (it certainly couldn’t be classed as love-making any more) with his wife was no longer enjoyable. It had become a chore – a task to be endured, rather than cherished and savoured. It wasn’t fun, it wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t enjoyable.
Something needed to change – and fast.
3
Chapter Three
‘Sex and golf are the two things you can enjoy even if you’re not good at them’ – Kevin Costner
There was a tentative tap on Annie’s office door. She jumped up from her desk, quickly hiding the copy of Cosmopolitan magazine she’d been reading, and dashed across to answer it. ‘Hello, you must be Ray,’ Annie smiled warmly, extending her hand.
The man was in his late fifties and of average height, with thin grey hair that was completely bald on the crown. He was wearing a pair of golf trousers, with a bulky waterproof jacket over the top.
‘Yes. And you’re Ms Hall?’ he queried, shaking her hand.
‘Please, call me Annie. Do come in, and make yourself comfortable.’
She closed the door behind him, as Ray nervously took a seat in one of the large armchairs, unzipping his coat to reveal a garish diamond-pattern jumper.
‘I haven’t… I mean, I’ve never done this kind of thing before…’ he began, before trailing off and looking pleadingly at Annie, as though willing her to understand.
‘Neither have ninety-nine percent of the people who come through my door, so you’re not alone,’ she said reassuringly. ‘You’ve made a great first step by coming here. It’s a very brave thing to do.’
Ray nodded uncertainly, not looking convinced.
‘And you’ve come here on your own today,’ Annie prompted him.
‘Yes. My wife, Linda, she thinks I’m out at the driving range,’ he explained, gesturing apologetically at his clothes. ‘I didn’t want her to know where I was going. I just wanted to see what this was all about, and whether or not you could help us, before I mention it to her.’
‘I completely understand,’ Annie assured him. ‘Why don’t I tell you a little more about what I do, and the way that I work. Then, if you want to, you can tell me about the reasons you came to see me today.’
‘Okay,’ Ray agreed hesitantly. ‘That sounds… fine.’
‘Can I get you a drink at all before we start? Tea or coffee?’
Ray chuckled. ‘Do you have anything stronger? A large Johnnie Walker might make this easier.’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Annie laughed. ‘Two sugars in your tea are about the most extreme thing I can offer.’
‘Then I’ll have to make do with that. And a splash of milk too, please.’
Once Ray was settled with his drink, and looking slightly less like he might bolt straight out of the door, Annie sat back in her chair and began to speak:
‘I like to work in a very informal way. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible whilst you’re in this room, and free to say whatever you want. Sometimes people find it easier to talk to someone they don’t know, who has no preconceptions about them or their relationship, and who can be impartial. I don’t judge, or tell you what you should and shouldn’t be doing. I can give you advice, based on my knowledge and experience, and I can give suggestions – but it’s up to you whether or not you follow that advice.’
Ray took a sip of his tea and nodded, his eyes wide.
‘As I said, it’s great that you’ve decided to come here today,’ Annie continued brightly. ‘I know from what you said on the phone that you clearly care very much about your relationship with your wife, and want to make it better. What is it in particular that’s brought you to see me?’
Ray set his mug down on a coaster and swallowed thickly, clearly wondering whether or not to confide in Annie. It was a reaction she was accustomed to – people were always so anxious the first time they came to see her, but a few sessions down the line and they were chatting away like old friends.
‘Well,’ Ray began slowly. ‘Linda and I… As you can see, we’re a bit older. I’m fifty-nine and Linda’s a year younger. We both work part time – you know, slowing down as we approach retirement.’
‘And what do you both do?’ Annie asked, as she scribbled notes on a pad.
‘I’m a driving instructor,’ Ray explained. ‘And Linda has her own business, running a flower shop. Well, our eldest daughter, Rose, manages it now – like I said, we’re supposed to be semi-retired – but Linda still goes in most days.’
‘How many children do you have?’
‘Three. As well as Rose, there’s her sister, Marianne, and then Robbie, our youngest. He’s just graduated, and lives in Manchester now, so we don’t see him as much. Rose and Marianne are nearby, and they’ve both got little ones, so Linda and I are grandparents now. We look after the children a lot…’
He trailed off, and Annie waited for him to continue. She sensed that he was getting near to talking about the reason he’d come to see her, and experience had taught her that if she remained silent, her client would often fill the silence by talking about what was really on their mind.
‘Sometimes I can’t believe I’m a granddad. Where did the years go?’ Ray asked, with a soft chuckle. ‘And I know that, strictly speaking, I’m well past middle age. When kids in the street look at me they probably see an old man. But the thing is, I still feel young. Yes, I might get a few more aches and pains than I used to, and I can’t see further than the end of my nose if I don’t have my glasses on, but I don’t want everything to just… stop,’ he finished awkwardly. ‘And some things have. Stopped, that is.’
‘You and your wife have stopped being intimate?’ Annie asked softly.
Ray turned crimson, colour infusing his face. He nodded, making a strangled sort of noise that Annie took for a yes.
‘And when was the last time you and Linda made love?’
Ray was squirming in his seat, looking as though he’d rather have a wisdom tooth pulled without anaesthetic than answer Annie’s question. Finally, he spoke, his voice dropping to a whisper. ‘About a year ago.’
‘And is there any particular reason for this, that you know of?’
Ray shrugged sadly, shaking his head.
‘This is a very common issue for older couples, as I’m sure you’re aware,’ Annie began gently. ‘If it’s a mutual decision, then that’s fine, but if one partner is still hoping to enjoy an active, regular sex life, it can cause a problem. Plus, at fifty-nine, there’s no reason to be slowing down just yet.’
‘I know,’ Ray agreed. ‘I accept that we’re not as young as we once were, but there’s life in the old dog yet, as they say. I don’t want to think that that side of things is completely over.’
‘How old was your wife when she went through the menopause?’ Annie asked thoughtfully.
‘The…? I…’ Ray’s mouth flapped open and closed in bewilderment. Annie might as well have asked him the square root of 142,078 and he would have had more chance of answering accurately.
‘Never mind,’ Annie insisted. ‘It doesn’t matter for now.’
‘I love her, you see,’ Ray burst out. ‘Always will. I still remember the first date we ever went on, clear as day. I fell head over heels that night.’ He smiled wistfully. ‘And it’s not just the… the physical act,’ he managed finally, looking bashful once again. ‘I miss the
intimacy. The closeness. We’re not like we used to be.’
Seated in the chair opposite Annie, Ray looked desperately sad all of a sudden, his shoulders bowed, his mouth drooping.
‘Do you think Linda would be willing to come here?’ Annie wondered. ‘To come to these sessions with you, and talk to me?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ray admitted. ‘Would we… I mean, how does it work? Would we have to take our clothes off?’ he whispered, looking terrified. ‘Do you watch us while we… you know… and tell us where we’re going wrong?’
Annie couldn’t suppress the giggle that was building up. ‘No, not at all,’ she chuckled. ‘I don’t know why people always think that, but I promise you, no one will be getting naked. At least not until session three.’
Ray’s head jerked up in alarm, then he saw that she was joking.
‘Oh, right,’ he managed to laugh. ‘Well, that’s a relief.’
‘I’ll talk to you both, and find out if there’s any identifiable reason for the loss of intimacy,’ Annie explained. ‘You’ll also get homework from me – exercises to work on and put into practice every week. And I don’t just focus on the physical. It’s all about rediscovering the love in the relationship.’
For the first time since Annie had met him, Ray seemed relieved. ‘Good,’ he exhaled. ‘That sounds good. I’ll speak to Linda, and see if she’ll come with me.’ His eyes were sad as he looked up at Annie. ‘I just want things back to how they used to be. I want us to be happy again.’
* * *
‘Annie! Over here!’
Annie heard her sister’s voice and looked across the crowded pub to where Holly was waving frantically, a huge grin on her face.
‘Hey, Hols,’ Annie beamed, as she slid her slim body through the tightly knit groups of after-work drinkers, and plonked herself down in the seat beside her sister, who’d somehow managed to secure a coveted corner table in the King’s Arms.