The Birthday That Changed Everything

by Debbie Johnson

  We’d had mornings here, afternoons there, but never a whole night. Jake was occasionally at Matthew’s for a sleepover, but I always had to drag myself away from James’s arms and go back to my room in case one of my overgrown babies needed me – mother first, sex slave second.

  But tonight, with all of them away and happy and taken care of, we could celebrate my birthday in style. Stay together. Sleep in the same bed. Wake up next to each other in the morning…

  Hmmm. Shit – what if I snored? Or drooled? Or talked about pepperoni pizza in my sleep? I might even fart out loud.

  I’d stopped eating, I was so caught up in my thoughts, and had a piece of Turkish delight paused halfway to my lips.

  James sat down opposite me, bringing his coffee with him. He looked at me, with my gaping mouth and frozen hand.

  ‘Are you playing musical statues by yourself?’ he said. ‘Or are you lost in Crazy Town? I know Allie’s told you about the trip. So, by now, I’m guessing the happy’s worn off, and you’re starting to worry about whether I’ll still fancy you before you brush your teeth in the morning.’

  Bugger. I hadn’t even thought of that one.

  ‘How do you know all this stuff? It’s very annoying.’

  ‘Psychic powers. Sally, I do actually know you are a real-life woman. I don’t care if you snore, and I look forward to our first communal fart. It’s a rite of passage. I just want to wake up with you still there – I get very horny first thing in the morning. Anyway, here’s your present – happy birthday, gorgeous.’

  He kissed me and left. There was a small box lying on the table. I tore it open, and inside found a beautiful gold necklace with a delicate Celtic knot pendant, nestled on a crinkly red tissue paper. I put it on straight away and held the pendant in my hands, grinning like an idiot. I planned to keep it on for ever.

  That afternoon we stood down by the shore and waved everyone off. Jake was sick with excitement, clinging on to Ollie’s hand as they trotted along the jetty to the boat, three skipping steps to each one of Ollie’s strides. Everyone else trooped along, carrying overnight bags and beer and snorkels and fishing rods. The only one left behind was Rick, who’d cried off with a sore stomach.

  James and I stood on the edge of the beach, waving for what seemed like an eternity. When they finally drifted off out of sight, we held hands and walked back towards the hotel.

  ‘So…what shall we do now then?’ I asked, pretty sure what the answer was going to be.

  ‘Well, we could lie in the sun eating ice cream and only moving when we’ve run out of gin. Or go back to my room. Your choice.’

  I wound my arms round his neck and kissed him slowly, for a very long time, melding my hips into his.

  ‘Can we take the gin and ice cream with us?’ I said. He nodded, hands roaming over my body.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon rolling around on the bed, kissing, talking and making each other go cross-eyed. Later, James went down to the restaurant, and came back bearing gossip as well as a loaded tray.

  ‘Rick’s down there. He’s made a miraculous recovery. He was drinking cocktails with Hakan, that new waiter, and I swear they were playing footsie under the table. He winked at me and said: ‘James, what happens in the Blue Bay, stays in the Blue Bay.’ I didn’t know what to say to that so I ran off. Here, most of this is for you,’ he said, putting the tray down.

  After the food and a little resting of my eyes, James woke me up by pulling the covers off me. I was getting over the self-consciousness of being starkers in front of him, but still instinctively tried to grab them back to hide myself.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘time for a shower together. This has been a secret fantasy of mine since I met you. Come on, you know you want to.’

  I watched him walk away to the bathroom, naked as the day he was born but a whole lot bigger. The muscular rise and fall of his backside looked so good I wanted to crawl after him on all fours and bite it. Instead I jumped up and followed.

  He was already in, standing under a steaming jet, rubbing his hair. I faced him, watching the water splash on to the bulk of his shoulders and stream down over the golden plane of his chest. I reached out to touch him, still amazed I was allowed to.

  ‘Like what you see?’ he asked, his voice strained. I nodded and moved closer, putting my arms around his waist and pulling him to me. I gently sucked his rigid nipples and felt him spring to life between us. He sighed and pushed me away slightly, smoothing my wet hair away from my face.

  ‘Not yet,’ he said.

  He squeezed shower gel into his hands – the same smell I always associated with him, and which was usually enough to kick-start my libido all on its own. He soaped it on to me, paying an inordinate amount of attention to my breasts.

  His hands worked their way down my body, in between my legs, over the curves of my back and bottom and thighs. By the time he finished, I was not only very clean indeed, but horny as hell.

  He stepped forward until I was backed against the wall, then lifted me up, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist. For once I didn’t even wonder about being too heavy – I was too turned on, and I knew now he was more than strong enough.

  Within seconds he was thrusting inside me, his hands on the small of my back for support. It was hard and fast and my flesh was slapping against the tiles of the shower wall as he did it. He was murmuring my name over and over, his mouth buried in my neck and my shoulders, biting me and kissing me.

  I was screaming with pleasure and had my fingers wound in his hair so tight it had to hurt. The shower pounded on to his back as he pounded into me, a waterfall flowing over the muscles of his back, knotted with effort. My hips rose and fell to meet him, urging him on, a fiery heat spreading through me.

  When it was over for both of us, I stayed wrapped around him, his head collapsed on to my breasts. I could feel his panting breath as he nuzzled into me, holding me tighter. I’d left scratch marks on his back, and reached down to soothe them with my fingers. Mercy, what a perfect moment.

  ‘God, I love you James,’ I whispered.

  Well, somebody had to go and spoil it.

  Once the words were out, I don’t know who was more shocked – me or him. Both our bodies went suddenly tense, then I slid down from him and walked wordlessly out of the shower, grabbing a towel.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, I thought as I dried off, why did I have to go and do that? Even if it was true, I didn’t intend to say it out loud. I don’t think I even realised it until the words escaped. But it was true – this was more than a fling for me. Whether the timing was right or not; whether I was still harbouring feelings for Simon or not, it was true. I loved James. And now I’d gone and said it.

  I walked back into the room and started gathering up my clothes. Maybe it was time to make my excuses and leave. If only because I thought I might cry.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he asked as he walked back in, towel tucked round his waist.

  ‘I…well…you know, I have things to do…We’re leaving in a few days so I thought I’d start the packing, and I need to call the dog-sitter to check everything’s okay, and—’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘you’re not going anywhere. I’m not going to let you run away from this. Get into bed.’

  ‘But my hair’s still wet. I’ll make the pillow soggy.’

  ‘Get in.’

  I did as he said, shaking as much from my emotions as the mild chill of the air-conditioned room. He climbed in next to me, rolling on to his side so we were face to face. I didn’t want to be, and tried to avoid meeting his eyes. I was forty-one, for Christ’s sake – way too old for all this crap. Meeting James had made me feel young again – like I’d discovered sex and men and love for the first time. Feeling like a humiliated teenager who’d overused the ‘L’ word was the downside.

  He held the side of my face with his hand, stroking my hair back behind my ears. When the tears fell, he kissed them away.

  ‘Don’t cry, Sal. I
love you too. I just wasn’t brave enough to say it. You were more honest, as usual. But I’ve been thinking it, for a long time now. I love you. Okay? I love you. Does that make things better?’

  For some reason, instead of making me smile, that made me cry even more – I should have been on diazepam. I nodded, and hid my face under the sheets.

  He turned on to his back and scooped me into his arms so my head was lying against his chest. He held me tight and told me he loved me again and I slid one of my legs over his. Eventually the crying stopped, and the happiness started.

  We were quiet for a moment, and he fingered the Celtic knot necklace I was wearing.

  ‘I’m glad you like it,’ he said, ‘I don’t usually go in for all this professional Irish stuff, but this is supposed to symbolise endings and beginnings and how one leads to another. That seemed right for us. Are you okay now? You’re not crying any more, are you?’

  ‘For that last bit, I was crying ’cause I was so happy. I’m female – don’t try and understand it, just accept it. And now I’m even more happy. And, well, a bit sleepy. Must be all that food and sex and emotional trauma…’ I yawned as I said the last words, covering my mouth with my hand.

  ‘Then sleep,’ he said, ‘stay where you are, and sleep.’

  And I did. We did. Wrapped in each other’s arms, warm and safe and sated. Knowing we could stay like that all night made it even better, as did being able to say I loved him rather than avoiding it like a dirty secret. I don’t think I’d slept so well for years.

  Right up until the moment the phone started to ring, that is. Loudly and insistently and at just before midnight. I needed to get rid of that William Tell overture – it was way too brutal.

  ‘God, not again,’ muttered James, pulling the covers over his head to shut out the noise.

  I stretched my hand out into the darkness and blindly felt about with my fingers, until I scooped the phone up and answered with a groggy hello.

  ‘Sally, it’s me,’ said the voice on the other end. Flashback time, except this year I had a lot fewer clothes on. ‘You sound sleepy, love, hope I didn’t wake you up – I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.’

  Simon. Again. At least he sounded sober this time. And at least he’d got the day right – just about.

  ‘Simon, thanks, that’s really sweet, but this isn’t a good time—’

  James reached out and took the phone from my hand.

  ‘She’s busy,’ he snapped, ‘call back in daylight.’

  He disconnected, and put the phone down, turning to me with an irritated gleam in his eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sal, I know that was rude, but…well. Like you said about being female? I’m male, and sometimes we’re irrational too. You’re in bed with me right now, and I’m not willing to share with your ex-husband.’

  Almost ex-husband, I wanted to say. But didn’t.

  James pulled me to him, and I wriggled down into his embrace, and within minutes he was asleep again. It took me longer to drift away, and when I did, Simon was right there in my dreams. Where he had no right to be.

  Simon, who’d got the day right this year. Simon, whom I’d once loved as well, back then, in a distant land.

  Chapter 35

  I was back in my own room after a blissful few hours with James. Waking up with him had been everything I’d hoped it would be – and yes, he did get very, very horny in the morning.

  But in the back of my loved-up brain was Simon – and the way our conversation had ended last night. As soon as I was alone, I dialled his work number, half hoping he was in surgery.

  He already had an idea who I’d been with. He referred to him confusingly as ‘the fridge man’, because of a photo of James and Jake I had tacked under the magnet that Jake had given me last year. When I confirmed that it was indeed the fridge man, he paused, regrouped. Possibly felt slightly sick – it was an especially flattering photo of James and his Big Guns.

  ‘I see. Sal, I know I have no right to even ask, the way I’ve treated you, but…do you love him? Or is it just a holiday thing?’

  ‘No, you don’t have any right to ask, Simon, and I’m not going to discuss it with you. You made your choices. I’m happy, and the kids are happy, and I hope you are too. We’ll see you when we get back.’

  ‘Of course. You’re right. Would you like me to pick you all up at the airport? It’s no problem, really.’

  ‘And what would Monika think about that?’

  ‘Monika’s not…well, we’ll catch up when you’re home. Give me a bell when I can come round and see you. And the kids. I’m sorry, Sal. Love you.’

  I put the phone down, shaking my head – the man really was unbelievable. Sorry for what? Never once loading the dishwasher during our entire marriage? Treating me like a nobody for the last ten years? Shagging around behind my back? Dumping me for a nineteen-year-old lap-dancer? The list was endless. I don’t know why I’d even bothered calling.

  Except…except he was Simon. He was the father of my children, the man I’d been happily – or at least satisfactorily – married to for seventeen years. He’d always be in my life one way or another, and we were all going to have to work around that.

  I put it to the back of my mind and carried on getting ready. The boat-trip gang had arrived back safe and sound and full of tall tales, and there was a barbecue on the beach.

  ‘Mum!’ said Ollie, popping his head round the door. ‘Just came up to get my Frisbee. How’re you? Did you have a nice time? Did James kiss you punishingly?’

  ‘Ollie, you’ve really got to stop reading those Mills & Boons, love…Come on, let’s go down together.’

  Mehmet and Adnan had set up a grill on the beach, and the smell of lamb and chicken was wafting up into the sky mixed with curls of black smoke. There were buckets full of ice with wine and beer chilling in them, and an ancient ghetto blaster was pumping out Enrique Iglesias.

  Allie was umpiring a game of rounders. Jake and his pal Matthew were paused on their bases, waiting to run, and James was bowling. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts with pockets on the front and was bare-chested.

  Lucy was in to bat, hair tied back in a wild blond ponytail, giving him the eye of the tiger and skipping from toe to toe in anticipation.

  ‘Don’t break him, Lucy!’ I yelled. ‘I need him later!’

  James laughed as he ran, and threw a distracted ball that Lucy whacked with all her strength, jumping a foot off the ground with the effort. It flew high into the sky, inches over the reaching fingertips of Ian and Jenny in field, and right out into the bay. Jake and Matthew legged it as fast as they could, both coming back to base and high-fiving each other so hard they fell over into the sand.

  ‘Come on, Sally,’ shouted Jenny, ‘we need you!’

  Ha ha. As if. I’d settled myself down on a blanket to watch, and that was as close as I planned to get – I had no intention of bouncing my boobs round the beach for their entertainment. Mike was obviously of the same opinion about his budding man-breasts, and he lowered his bulk next to me, cracking open a new can of lager.

  ‘That’s a shame, Sal. I was looking forward to seeing you in action.’

  ‘Bet you were, you old pervert – how was Allie?’

  ‘Hyper,’ he said, ‘and still not talking. I know you tried, so thanks for that. I s’pose she’ll tell us when she’s good and ready. You’re right, though, there’s probably not another man on the scene. How could he compete with this?’

  He stretched out and rubbed his beer gut lovingly, downing his drink in one swig.

  The game, and the eating and the drinking and the laughing, went on all afternoon. Even Lucy seemed relaxed and happy. I didn’t hear her swear once, and at one point she passed me a can of Coke. Voluntarily, and without spitting in it.

  The sun was fading out on the horizon, sliding down into the sea and shimmering a golden light over the waves. It was slightly cooler, and there was talk of starting a campfire so we could stay out and tell each
other scary stories.

  James was next to me, lying down with his eyes closed, his head resting on my thighs as I sat up watching Ollie and Jake play Frisbee. I was stroking his hair and he was making a man-purr. Max and Lucy were sitting cross-legged, talking animatedly and eating ice-cream cones.

  I never, ever wanted to go home. This was as perfect as I could ever remember life being.

  Out in the distance, a sleek wooden sailing boat was heading towards shore. It looked like the gulet the others had taken their trip in.

  It headed straight for the wooden jetty in front of us, and I strained my eyes to watch. A man jumped out and tied it secure, then a woman followed. She made her way alone along the jetty, and as she got nearer and her figure got bigger, everyone stopped what they were doing to look on in curiosity. Apart from James, who was snoozing away in my lap.

  The woman was tall and slim and had long jet-black hair, gleaming in the dimming light of the sun. She was wearing minuscule denim shorts and a tight black vest top that left no doubt at all that she had dispensed with the services of a bra.

  ‘Crikey…who’s that? She’s a bit of all right,’ said Mike, shading his eyes with his hand and staring out at her.

  ‘Yeah, she’s a mega-babe – she looks like Lara Croft,’ added Ollie, gazing at her in a very non-gay way.

  Even the little boys were fascinated. They stopped their game of tag to look, then Jake started running frantically along the jetty towards her.

  ‘Mummy!’ he shrieked, throwing himself into her arms.

  Chapter 36

  ‘James! Wake up!’ I muttered urgently, shaking him awake by his shoulders.

  ‘What? What’s the emergency? Do you need more sex already?’ he murmured, opening one eye as he came to, flipping over on to his stomach and looking up at me.

  ‘Ah, no. This really wouldn’t be the right time.’