The Goddess Workshop

by Margaret K Johnson

  The Goddess Workshop

  Margaret K Johnson

  Four very different women have one thing in common – and they’re determined to put it right!

  Margaret K Johnson began writing after finishing at Art College to support her career as an artist. Writing quickly replaced painting as her major passion, and these days her canvasses lay neglected in her studio. She is the author of romances, stage plays and many fiction books in various genres for people learning to speak English. Margaret has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of East Anglia and lives in Norwich, UK with her partner and son.

  To find out more about Margaret you can:

  Go to her website at www.margaretkjohnson.co.uk

  Visit her blog at: www.margaretkjohnson.co.uk/blog

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  https://www.facebook.com/MargaretKJohnsonAuthor

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  This book is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the published, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  First published in 2013 by Margaret K Johnson

  Copyright © 2013 Margaret K Johnson

  Margaret K Johnson has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

  One

  Janet Thornton pasted on a smile, pushed open the door to the church hall and came to an abrupt halt.

  ‘Goodness!’ In front of her, where there was usually a portrait of the Queen, somebody had hung a giant oil painting of a couple with no clothes on. A couple… having sex.

  ‘That’s what we all said. Or something very like, anyway!’

  Janet turned round to see who had spoken. A large, older woman in a fussy floral dress was smiling at her.

  ‘Oh,’ Janet said, ‘yes.’ And then, unable to think of anything else to say, she turned round to look at the painting again, her befuddled brain trying to make sense of what it might have to do with the gardening course she had come to take part in that morning. The painting was so huge the couple in it were life-size, which somehow made the image doubly shocking.

  ‘My name’s Reenie,’ Fussy Dress was saying to her now.

  Janet moved uncertainly into the room. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Hello.’ She looked around for Gwen, her neighbour, but there was no sign of her, just Reenie and two other women.

  As Janet stood there, unsure whether to stay or go, her gaze drifted back once again to the picture. Some- how she just couldn’t seem to stop looking at it.

  Even more than the size of the man’s… thing, the most shocking thing about the image was the complete lack of expression on the couple’s faces. If ever a couple could be said to mate, then it was this couple. Why, that shockingly open gash of the woman’s body was being ravaged by the…the pole which was the man’s penis! Even if it didn’t hurt, which surely to goodness it must do, then it should certainly inspire some sort of response in the woman’s perfect features. Shouldn’t it?

  Then Janet thought somewhat guiltily of her lovemaking with her husband Ray the previous evening. While she had been waiting for him to finish, her mind had drifted away to an over-complicated recipe for a raspberry terrine she’d seen on Masterchef earlier that evening. Her face had probably been pretty blank too, come to think of it.

  ‘Think it’s from the Kama Sutra,’ the woman – Reenie – said. ‘I reckon it must have been painted by a man, don’t you? It’d have to be with a you-know-what that size! Why don’t you come and sit down, love? Make yourself comfy. No sign of teacher yet.’

  ‘Oh, thanks.’ Janet pulled herself together with an effort and moved towards the semicircle of chairs. As she did so, she looked over at the other two women. They were as different to each other as it was possible to be. The one sitting next to Reenie was a large, mannish-looking woman, wearing jeans and a red and white checked shirt, and the one furthest away was a young, perfectly made-up business type in a smart suit and blouse.

  Both women were looking at her, so Janet smiled back at them uneasily. ‘Hello,’ she said.

  The woman in the checked shirt gave Janet a smile that was more like a smirk than a smile, as if something about Janet amused her intensely. When she spoke, there was definitely a note of laughter in her voice. ‘Hi.’

  As for the business type, she didn’t even bother to speak; just stretched her mouth into a brief, insincere smile and began to examine her manicure with great interest.

  Feeling even more uncomfortable than ever, Janet took the seat next to Reenie, realising as she did so that the usual motley collection of church hall chairs had, for some unaccountable reason, been transformed by exotic leopard skin throws.

  ‘I know you, don’t I?’ Reenie was saying to her now.

  Janet looked at her, feeling confused and uneasy. It was difficult to make small talk with that rampaging couple staring at her with their glassy eyes, and she wished Reenie would just leave her alone. She just wanted to sit quietly to wait for Gwen.

  ‘You work in that DIY shop.’

  ‘Carol De Ville Interiors,’ Janet said. ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  Business Type looked up briefly from her manicure. ‘They sell the most expensive light bulbs in Norfolk in there,’ she said in a stuck-up sounding voice.

  Janet’s response was a reflex action. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘it isn’t a lighting shop after all. Mrs De Ville just keeps a few bulbs in for her customers’ convenience...’ Her voice trailed off as it became clear that Business Type wasn’t listening any more.

  Janet felt annoyed with herself. Why had she felt she had to defend her horrible boss? And besides, it was true about the light bulbs. They were obscenely expensive. Not that Janet was responsible for the high prices. The closest she got to pricing anything in the shop was by painstakingly writing out the discreet cardboard price cards in the calligraphy-inspired handwriting Carol De Ville insisted upon.

  ‘They have some lovely stuff in there, they do,’ Reenie was saying now. ‘I said to my Ted, if we ever win the Lottery, I’ll be right down there to order a makeover.’

  At this, the woman in the checked shirt gave a snort of laughter. Janet looked over at her and saw that the smirk was still on her face.

  ‘Home makeover, I mean,’ Reenie said, sounding annoyed. ‘A complete new look…’

  But Janet wasn’t listening any longer, because the door that led to the church was opening, and there, at last, was Gwen.

  ‘Hello, Janet,’ Gwen said, advancing into the room. ‘I’ve just been checking on the church flowers.’

  Gwen started to take her coat off. Her back was turned towards the Kama Sutra painting, and Janet waited with bated breath for her to turn round and see it.

  ‘You just can’t trust Ruth to do a good job,’ she was saying, smoothing down her hair.

  ‘You two know each other then, do you?’ Reenie asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Gwen tol
d her. ‘Janet and I are neighbours.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Reenie said. ‘Live locally, do you? I’m out on the Larkton Estate myself.’

  Janet was very familiar with Gwen’s opinions of the residents of the Larkton council estate, so she wasn’t very surprised when her neighbour chose a seat as far away from Reenie as she could. Gwen patted the chair next to her. ‘Come along, Janet,’ she said. ‘Sit here, next to me.’

  As Janet was already settled next to Reenie, it felt a little on the rude side to be picking up her belongings and moving, but somehow she found herself doing it anyway, shooting Reenie an apologetic smile as she went.

  ‘Whatever have they done to these chairs?’ Gwen said, and Janet couldn’t believe she still hadn’t noticed the painting.

  Reenie looked as if she was going to say something, and Gwen quickly directed a smile at Business Type, effectively blocking Reenie – and the painting – out with her back.

  ‘I’ve got an ongoing problem with my primulas,’ she said brightly. ‘That’s why I’m here. How about you?’

  Janet saw Business Type give Gwen a baffled stare. Over on the other side of the room, Checked Shirt burst out laughing. ‘That’s a new name for it!’ she said.

  Janet looked over at her. What was so amusing? Reenie was grinning broadly too. Janet just didn’t get the joke.

  ‘Isn’t that rather the point of this course?’ Business Type replied at last. ‘To find out what our problems are?’ Her voice was icy cold, designed to shut off all further conversation, but Gwen didn’t seem to take the hint. Janet saw her nod understandingly, giving the rather superior smile that Janet was all too familiar with.

  ‘Just general shedding and rot then, is it?’ Gwen asked politely.

  On the other side of the room, Checked Shirt gave another snort of laughter, while Reenie let out what Janet could only describe as a whoop of mirth. A muscle flickered in Gwen’s cheek. Janet knew from experience that her neighbour was now seriously annoyed, and to be honest, Janet didn’t blame her.

  ‘I think it often comes down to whether you spread muck or not,’ Gwen sailed on regardless. ‘Put something really good in, that’s my advice. It’s the only way to reap the benefits.’

  As Business Type stared back at Gwen, there was such a complete look of disdain in her expression that Janet felt embarrassed for her neighbour. Especially since, behind Gwen, the hilarity was continuing unabated.

  Janet felt quite lost. Whatever was going on? Gwen could be quite laughable when she was on her high horse or doing her Countess Gwen-oh-so-pleased-to-meet-you act, but it wasn’t that funny.

  ‘Do you mind?’ Gwen retorted, sweeping round, and Janet saw her eyes widen as at last she saw the picture.

  But before Gwen could say anything, the door opened and a woman in a swirling, black lace dress swept into the room.

  Janet felt her mouth drop open.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Checked Shirt said in a quiet voice that wasn’t quite quiet enough. ‘What is this? Sodding Strictly Come Dancing?’

  If the woman had heard, she didn’t show it. Sweeping further into the room, she held her arms outstretched in a dramatic gesture of welcome. ‘Ladies!’ she said in a warm American-sounding voice. ‘My name is Jade Gate, and I’m your tutor for the course.’

  ‘Janet!’ Gwen whispered to her. ‘What is that painting doing there?’

  Janet shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered back, still staring at the woman. She’s like a witch! she thought, taking in her black clothes and her glorious copper brown hair tumbling down her back. A beautiful, powerful, frightening witch.

  Jade Gate clasped her beringed hands in front of her and smiled at each of them in turn. When Janet received the smile, she felt as if a powerful laser beam had connected with her. Jade’s green eyes seemed to see right through and inside her. It would not be easy to have secrets from this woman, Janet knew it. But, bathed in that emerald green attention, she didn’t want to have any secrets from her. She wanted to crumple, to entrust herself entirely into the woman’s hands so that she could… What? She wasn’t sure.

  As Jade’s gaze moved on to Business Type, Checked Shirt, Reenie and finally to Gwen, Janet watched their faces to see if they were as affected by it as she had been. It was impossible to tell. And in fact, Jade only looked at each of them briefly. And yet when she had looked at Janet, it had felt as if the moment had lasted ages.

  ‘Welcome to this series of workshops,’ Jade said, her smile now taking in all of them. ‘By coming here today, you have taken a first bold step to discovering the joyous, sensual women you are.’

  Janet wasn’t surprised when Checked Shirt gave a grunt, which could have been amusement or disbelief, or a mixture of both. But this time Janet didn’t look at her. She didn’t want to, because for one thing, Jade was far more interesting to look at, and for another, the woman was starting to get on her nerves. She reminded Janet of her daughter Debbie when she was in a contrary mood. It was far better not to give her the satisfaction of noticing.

  ‘In the coming weeks we shall embark on a thrilling journey together; a roller coaster ride of amazing discovery! Not only will you learn to give yourselves intense pleasure,’ Jade continued, ‘but you’ll gain the self-confidence to tell others exactly what to do to give pleasure to you.’

  Janet frowned to herself. Jade’s flowery language seemed very inappropriate, even for a horticulture course.

  She wasn’t surprised when Gwen piped up. ‘My husband just leaves it to me at the moment really,’ she said. ‘He has other interests.’

  Gwen always liked to speak at lot at Adult Education classes. Janet knew she ought to be used to it, but it still made her cringe. Gwen just loved the sound of her own voice. It had been the same thing in Yoga First Steps, Beginner’s French and Basic Pottery. Gwen always had to put forward her point of view. Occasionally she even disagreed outright with the tutor. Sometimes Janet thought it was Gwen’s main motivation for attending classes: to stir things up.

  Jade was giving Gwen a sympathetic smile now. ‘Well, by the end of the course, your husband will be with you one hundred percent,’ she promised. ‘I guarantee it.’

  Janet watched Gwen frown. ‘Oh no!’ she said. ‘I couldn’t stand that! I like to do it by myself!’

  At that, the other three women all began to laugh. Janet looked at over them, uncomprehendingly. What was the big joke? She had to be missing something!

  Gwen, meanwhile, was looking annoyed. ‘What’s wrong with that?’ she snapped, glaring at them all, and Jade was quick to smile soothingly.

  ‘Nothing’s wrong with that…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,’ she said.

  ‘Gwen Chalmers,’ Gwen said, her voice sniffy.

  Jade’s smile was kind. ‘Nothing’s wrong with that at all, Gwen,’ she said gently. ‘In fact, mastering the art of solitary pleasure is a first, very important step. And it’s entirely a woman’s personal choice whether she wishes to build on that with a partner or not.’

  Gwen shook her head. ‘Oh no,’ she said, definitely not. I’ve had quite enough of building work. I told my husband after the last time: “I’m not putting up with that filthy mess again, Peter,” I said. ‘So don’t you ask me to!’

  Janet thought Jade looked somewhat abashed at that, but she quickly hid her reaction with a smile and swept on.

  ‘With such a sensitive subject,’ she said, ‘it’s only natural for you to feel apprehensive, and that’s why our first priority will be to create an atmosphere of trust and support within the group. For all of you to truly benefit, you’ll need to be prepared to share your most personal secrets with each other – the things you love and hate in bed, for example: what feels good for you and what doesn’t.’

  Goodness! Janet could feel her face burning. For some reason her gaze was drawn to the fornicating couple in the oil painting opposite again. What kind of a course was this?

  It seemed Gwen was wondering exactly the same thing. ‘Excuse me
,’ she said, ‘but just how is that supposed to help me with my primulas? Every year they wither and dry up!’

  Checked Shirt gave another loud guffaw of laughter. ‘She thinks this is a horticulture course!’

  Janet was transfixed by Gwen’s face, which had quickly turned a strong shade of beetroot. ‘Well, that’s what it said on the publicity!’ she said, and Janet watched her as she dug in her handbag for a leaflet. ‘A woman’s harvest of delight! It says it right here!’

  ‘Different sort of harvest altogether, love,’ Reenie told her, not unkindly.

  Meanwhile, Jade was reaching out an apologetic hand towards Gwen. ‘Oh, I am so sorry, Gwen,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to mislead you.’

  Gwen was looking furious. ‘You mean this isn’t a gardening course?’ she said, and Jade shook her head.

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’ She paused significantly. ‘It’s an orgasm workshop.’

  Two

  Oh, my God! The blood pounded in Janet’s head. She covered her mouth with her hand, torn between disbelief at what she was hearing and a guilty sense of pleasure at Gwen’s humiliation. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to burst out laughing.

  ‘Well!’ said Gwen.

  ‘The course is aimed at women who have been experiencing dissatisfaction with their sex lives. Obviously I should have worded the poster differently,’ said Jade.

  ‘Obviously!’ said Gwen, pushing her chair back and shoving her handbag over her arm much as the Queen held hers in the picture the Kama Sutra painting had replaced.

  She gave a sniff of strong indignation. ‘Janet?’ she said. ‘Come on, we’re leaving!’

  Janet knew she should move, but somehow found she could not. The blood was pounding in her head. Her mind was suddenly filled with an image of herself from above, lying in bed with her nightdress hoiked up, her mind full of raspberry terrine recipes as Ray pounded away on top of her.