STOCKINGS AND CELLULITE

by Debbie Viggiano

  There was a pause while a waiter took our orders.

  ‘And then he got divorced,’ I prompted her.

  ‘Yes. A quickie divorce followed. Meanwhile I transferred to Hempel Braithwaite to escape the gossip. We then had a discreet civil wedding with me congratulating myself on bagging such a dynamic, successful and distinguished husband.’

  ‘But you haven’t really told me why it all went wrong,’ I regarded her over the rim of my wine glass.

  ‘It went wrong when I pointed out that I was in my mid-thirties and horribly aware of the ticking biological clock. I wanted to start making babies, but Gordon already had three children to fund in private education with expensive lifestyles. He told me to direct any maternal energy towards my new step-children.’

  ‘Easier said than done.’

  ‘Too right. His girls positively reviled me. I was the other woman who had broken up their parents’ marriage. So then the arguments started with me constantly bitching and sniping.’

  She broke off as the waiter re-appeared bearing plates of spaghetti carbonara.

  ‘It got so bad we were barely civil to each other. And then one day Gordon simply moved out. Just like that,’ she clicked her fingers. ‘Initially I didn’t know where he’d gone. Eventually a colleague gave me a tip-off and I tracked him down.’

  ‘Where was he?’

  ‘Back with his first wife.’ There was a pause while Morag wrestled with her emotions. ‘What am I going to do Cass?’ she looked at me with watering eyes over her untouched meal.

  ‘I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do – you’re going to bounce right back and get on with life!’ I sucked a long tendril of spaghetti into my mouth. ‘Who needs men anyway?’

  ‘My vibrator is very good at a lot of things but it can’t make babies.’

  The couple at the next table choked on their garlic bread.

  On the way home Morag drove like a man – fast and aggressive. As she flew down the outside lane of the carriageway it was with a sinking feeling I spotted a blue flashing light in the passenger wing mirror. A split second later a wail rent the cool night air.

  ‘Bugger,’ Morag declared. ‘Is he after us?’

  I twisted my neck to look over my shoulder. Head lamps flashed in confirmation. Morag slowed and pulled onto the hard shoulder before unfolding her shapely legs from the car to greet the police officer.

  ‘Good evening Madam, do you know what speed you were travelling at?’

  As soon as I heard his voice I froze.

  ‘Before we go any further,’ Morag imperiously informed, ‘I’d like you to know I’m a solicitor.’

  ‘That’s nice. And I’m a police officer,’ Ploddy confirmed the obvious.

  I pulled up my collar and slid slowly down in my seat while Ploddy asked if the vehicle belonged to Morag and requested sight of her driver’s licence.

  Irritably Morag flung open the driver’s door. ‘Pass me my bag Cassandra,’ she snapped.

  I leant across the driver’s seat and silently placed the little clutch bag in her outstretched palm. Upon hearing my name, Ploddy peered enquiringly through the open door. As he stared at me in disbelief I could feel myself beginning to squirm. Was he the only police officer in Kent?

  ‘A very good evening to you Mrs Cherry.’

  ‘Thank you – and to you too Mr Pitt.’

  Ploddy stared wordlessly at me before giving the smallest shake of his head.

  Eventually the roadside meeting concluded with Morag being instructed to attend the local police station with all sorts of documents.

  As we set off home at a sedate forty, she gave me a sidelong glance.

  ‘He was almost worth getting nicked for. Did you see his eyes Cass? God they were absolute heaven. And what about those wonderful broad shoulders?

  ‘Mm.’

  ‘I hope he’s on duty when I pay the local nick a visit. He can certainly put me in handcuffs any time. I wonder what his name is. How does he know you?’

  ‘Don’t ask,’ I groaned.

  Chapter Six

  Once the twins were back from their weekend with Stevie, we sat down together we went through a collection of home style magazines.

  ‘Can we have our bedrooms made over?’ asked Livvy.

  ‘But I thought you loved Barbie,’ I said.

  Livvy stuck two fingers in her mouth and made gagging noises. ‘I did – when I was five.’

  ‘Mum, we’re going to secondary school next year,’ Toby pointed out. ‘What do you think my mates are going to say when they come over? Hey, like the Action Man wallpaper bud.’

  ‘Point taken,’ I grumbled.

  I left them to it and wandered off to my own bedroom. Standing in the open doorway, hands on hips, I assessed the room and tried to visualise ideas. I would definitely buy that leather bed. A jumbo one allowing plenty of room to stretch arms and legs like a starfish. A mental picture of my kitchen fitter rolling around with me on the mattress suddenly popped into my head. I rubbed my forehead in bemusement. Now where had that idea sprung from?

  At work the following day, as the hands of the clock edged toward lunchtime, Morag tossed her handbag across her shoulder and confidently sashayed out the office to visit the police station with her documentation. She returned an hour later po-faced and disappointed.

  ‘He wasn’t there.’

  ‘Who?’ I asked as I pressed buttons and sent a document off to print.

  ‘Your policeman friend.’

  ‘Believe me, that man is no friend of mine,’ I insisted, picking papers up from the print tray.

  ‘God he was a stunner.’

  I was too busy thinking about another stunner to comment.

  The stunner in question rang my mobile an hour later.

  ‘Hello Cass? I need to talk to you about local tiling and plastering where the breakfast bar is to be removed. I also have some suggestions about the downlighting.’

  ‘Right, fire away.’

  ‘I think it would be better to meet up and discuss it – then we can both be sure about what we want out of this.’

  ‘Er, right.’ For a moment I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the kitchen or us.

  ‘Excellent. I’ll pick you up this evening then, about seven.’

  ‘That would be heavenly,’ I gushed into the handset. ‘I-I mean, fine. Whatever.’

  My face was flaming as I ended the call. You idiot Cass. For God’s sake get a grip. Your workman was simply suggesting an informal business meeting to discuss an impending job. A contract. Not a date. Got it? Right. In which case, why weren’t we having the meeting on site so to speak?

  I immediately whirled into action and telephoned Stevie to ask if he would have the twins for a little while this evening.

  ‘Sorry Cass, can’t do. I’ve got a date with a racy little blonde number.’

  Well it hadn’t taken him long to move on from Cynthia had it? Or me for that matter? What about all those tear jerking pleas for reconciliation?

  In the end I telephoned Nell, managing to catch her on a staff room tea break.

  ‘Any chance of you having Liv and Toby for a couple of hours this evening?’ I asked breathlessly.

  ‘Tell you what Cass, why don’t I give them their tea and then they stay for a sleepover. You can return the favour for me when Ben and I go out to celebrate our wedding anniversary tomorrow. It would be nice to know we can continue the party once back home – if you catch my drift.’

  ‘Deal!’

  The day wore on with my mood getting more and more excitable. In total contrast Morag was sinking into a grey depression.

  ‘Fancy going for a drink after work Cass and drowning a sorrow or two?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ I lied, ‘but truly can’t. Got to sort out this new kitchen business.’

  ‘Oh well. Guess I’ll have to have an early night then. Just me, a brandy and my vibrator.’

  I made a tutting noise. ‘You could always watch a movie you know.’


  Morag perked up. ‘Good idea – me, the brandy, vibrator and a blue movie.’

  I shook my head and smiled. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  Once home, I quickly gathered uniform for the following day and walked the twins over to Nell’s. Scampering back across the grass strip between the two houses, I tossed my jacket over the banister and trotted up the stairs. What was I going to wear this evening? Half an hour later the bed was piled high with rejected clothing. I charged back down the stairs and dashed over to Nell’s.

  ‘I need to borrow something,’ I panted desperately.

  ‘Sure. What do you want – milk? Bread?’

  ‘No. Cropped jeans, stiletto heeled boots and a plunging top to show off my cleavage.’ Nell gazed at my drooping chest with an expression of disbelief. ‘I know my bosoms are currently in the grip of gravity but a Wonderbra will sort that out – can I borrow one of those too please?’

  ‘You’d better come in. I thought you were having a business meeting with your kitchen fitter?’

  ‘I am. Just want to make an impression that’s all.’

  ‘With your boobs jacked up to the moon?’

  ‘Oh for goodness sake!’ I sighed in exasperation.

  Several hours later I lay in my bed – alone – mentally hugging myself. I wasn’t remotely tired and recognised the tell-tale signs of having a thumping great crush on Euan.

  We had started off nursing drinks in a cosy pub, chatting about the suggested plastering and downlighting ideas. That had taken – ooh – about five minutes. Having dispensed with the formalities, we then went on to the informalities. Like the fact that Euan was separated from his wife. Although somewhat confusingly he was still living with her. However, this bit was speedily glossed over – something about waiting for a stale property market to recover in order to achieve peak price on the marital home. A distant alarm bell did faintly ring but was firmly ignored, especially when Euan went on to reassure that he and the wife were married in name only and it was strictly separate beds.

  We sat drinking and talking until finally, with a deep sigh of regret, Euan looked at his watch and said he had to be going. No sooner was I firmly ensconced in his passenger seat, he leant across the handbrake and pulled me toward him for a very thorough kissing.

  ‘When I drop you home, will you be asking me in for coffee?’ Euan grinned wickedly at me, his face suffused in the orange lights of the car park.

  ‘No!’

  ‘Never?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Ah,’ he grinned, ‘so it’s just a case of biding my time and being patient.’

  As his car pulled up outside my house, Euan caught my hand in his. ‘I’ll see you soon beautiful lady,’ he promised, drawing my hand to his warm lips.

  Moi? A beautiful lady? I wriggled delightedly as I hugged the memory of his words to myself. Pulling the duvet tightly up under my chin, I drifted into an untroubled sleep with a smile on my face.

  Morag was in a much more upbeat mood the following day.

  ‘Feast your peepers on that!’ she grinned. ‘Doesn’t it make you positively salivate with longing?’

  It was a fulsome article on the joys of holidaying in the Caribbean. A photographic layout showed turquoise water lapping white sand, remote islands smothered in green palms along with an arty-farty shot of stacked conch shells. I nodded my head in agreement.

  ‘I really can picture myself stretched out on that sand,’ Morag said wistfully, ‘some handsome ebony guy with a big todger massaging me with coconut oil and plying me with rum before whisking me off for a thoroughly good seeing to.’

  ‘Sorry to bring you back to reality, but this post needs signing off before I collect the twins.’

  Morag sighed and picked up her fountain pen.

  ‘I miss sex,’ she stated as her flashy signature scribbled across the A4.

  ‘Right.’

  ‘I need sex like food and water.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘I’ll have to do something about it. Soon.’

  ‘Right.’

  On the drive to school I idly reviewed my own sex life. Nonexistent unless I included last night’s erotic dream involving Euan.

  Nell walked Dylan over that evening before going out to celebrate her wedding anniversary. As Dylan disappeared to join the twins on their PlayStations, my neighbour lunged forward grabbing my wrist in a Machiavellian grip.

  ‘Not so fast! What’s with the sparkly eyes, dewy skin and backward smile?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘You keep grinning like the village idiot.’

  ‘Don’t be daft!’

  ‘Are you in love?’

  ‘Oh bog off Nell. Go and have a brilliant evening with Ben and bonk him senseless when you get back home.’

  ‘Yes I will,’ she assured. ‘But you and I have some serious catching up to do.’

  The working week zipped by and all too soon it was another Saturday. Within minutes of the twins leaving for Stevie’s, the telephone rang.

  ‘Is that the gorgeous Cassandra?’

  ‘Euan!’ I coiled a strand of hair around one finger like any girl in the first flush of crush.

  ‘I want to whisk you away from the washing up.’

  ‘Excellent news.’

  ‘I’ll pick you up at eight.’

  When I opened one eye the following morning I wasn’t sure if I’d had another erotic dream or not. I sneaked a sideways look. No, it had definitely been the real thing. Lying next to me was my kitchen fitter.

  I truly had not intended to leap into bed with a virtual stranger – and on the second date no less. The fact that I had previously put fresh linen on the bed, exfoliated my entire body, carefully dressed in sheer black stockings and squirted every nook and cranny of my skin with scent was nothing more than appalling coincidence.

  After being wined and dined it had seemed only polite to offer a nightcap of some sort. Trembling with nerves, I had barely set down the coffee cups rattling away in their saucers when Euan had wordlessly picked me up in his strong arms, strode up the staircase and tumbled me onto the bed.

  Like a scene from a romantic film my hair had billowed out, fanning itself attractively across the pillows. As Euan stared down at me in the rosy glow of lamplight, I could almost hear the accompaniment of film music rising to a dramatic crescendo as he grasped his leather belt and tore at the buckle fastening.

  ‘God you’re beautiful Cass,’ he’d declared as his trousers were carelessly tossed to one side. ‘You are the most gorgeous, sensual, sexy, desirable woman I have ever met.’

  I’d occasionally been called attractive or pretty in my time, but never had so many flattering adjectives been used to describe me of all people. It was heady stuff and I urgently felt the need to qualify those words.

  And suddenly I was in the grip of a living fantasy. Never before had I felt so desired and desirable. The writhing female throwing herself with great gusto into a sexual marathon was no longer a middle aged woman with an overstretched tummy from a double pregnancy. Nor was her waistline marred by one too many chocolate biscuits or her thighs dimpled with a smattering of cellulite. In her place was a blonde bombshell that sizzled and spat with newly discovered sexual energy.

  At around midday, just as he was leaving, Euan planted a lingering kiss on my upturned face.

  ‘Cass, we are at the beginning of a very special chapter in our lives.’

  I grinned by way of response. I hadn’t the energy to formulate actual words.

  And so began a discreet romance. I hugged the secret to myself, not daring to tell a soul, terrified in case Livvy and Toby found out and wanting to protect them above all else.

  The days blended into one another and suddenly the Easter holiday loomed along with the impending ski trip. Typically, having now met a gorgeous chap, I found myself not wishing to leave him for a whole week.

  Late one afternoon Nell tapped on the back door just as I was making a coffee.

  ‘We
have some serious catching up to do,’ she sternly informed me.

  ‘Oh? What about?’

  ‘Don’t play the innocent with me Cass. Come on. Make me a coffee and tell me about this man you’ve met.’

  ‘What man?’

  ‘The chap who’s going to fit your new kitchen one of these fine days.’

  ‘It’s all in hand,’ I assured. ‘Just as soon as the twins break up from school.’

  ‘The only fitting schedule I want to know about is how this guy is fitting into your personal life.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell. We’ve just been out for a drink a few times.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And, well, that’s it really.’ I placed a steaming mug before her. ‘He’s a mate.’

  ‘As in playmate presumably.’ She folded her arms across her chest and adopted a bossy tone. ‘Cass this is like pulling teeth. Utterly painful. Now come on. Spill the beans.’

  ‘What beans?’

  ‘The sexy ones. Is he good in bed?’

  ‘Nell, what sort of a question is that!’

  ‘A nosy one. And don’t pretend you haven’t bonked him because you’ve got a red flush spreading up your neck. Which is probably where the expression scarlet woman comes from,’ she nodded knowingly and dipped a Hob Nob in her mug.

  ‘Oh all right!’ I threw my hands up in a gesture of surrender. ‘What precisely do you want to know?’

  ‘Good girl,’ she grinned rubbing her hands together. ‘Let’s start off with the most important question first. Has he got a big willie?’

  That evening the telephone rang but all I could hear was heavy breathing.

  ‘Hello?’ I asked cautiously.

  ‘Do you see how I’m panting for you Cass?’ laughed Euan.

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘Can I come over this evening?’

  ‘Sorry but I have to say no.’ Much as I was longing to see Euan, the twins would be at home and I wanted my private life kept well away from them.

  ‘But Cass, you’re off to Italy this weekend. When am I going to see you?’

  ‘I could see you for a couple of hours tomorrow, but it would have to be late afternoon when the twins are with their dad.’