The Goddess Workshop

by Margaret K Johnson

  OK, so her breasts were quite nice. She’d always worn a good bra, and she hadn’t been able to breastfeed Debbie, so one way or another her breasts had kept their shape. But the most attractive breasts in the world would look awful above those hideous scars and stretch marks.

  Looking at her reflection now, Janet traced the stretch marks with her fingers. She knew Ray thought they were ugly, and he was right, they were. And there was no reason to suppose she would be any less ugly down below.

  Who was she trying to kid with all those trendy clothes? She was a scared, middle-aged housewife and mother, and no amount of new clothes was ever going to change that. ‘Should have called you Jane, not Janet,’ her mother had told the young Janet on many occasions. ‘Plain Jane. Get your looks from your father’s side of the family, you do.’

  Good old Mum. She always had known exactly what to say to make Janet feel inadequate.

  Janet sat down on the bed, still looking at her reflection, a lump of emotion in her throat. With her own daughter, she had made it her absolute priority to ensure she had a healthy level of self-esteem. Debbie certainly didn’t think she was ugly or plain or stupid. On the contrary. Sometimes Debbie was so sure of herself, Janet even wondered whether she’d taken the ego boosting too far.

  ‘You spoil that girl,’ her mother had told her repeatedly, and it was probably true. But if her daughter’s self-confidence sometimes seemed to border on arrogance, then Janet told herself that was far better than her being a vulnerable mouse the way she had been herself at the same age.

  Suddenly her introspection was interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the drive. Ray! Sneaking a look out of the window to check, Janet was in time to see her husband climbing out of his car.

  Instinctively, she turned back into the room to put her jeans on. But then she stopped, half in and half out of them. To hell with it. Today had been fun. She’d really started to believe she could be somebody different; somebody confident and attractive. And maybe if Ray saw her in her new clothes, he would see it too.

  Rifling quickly through her carrier bags, Janet picked out a new bra and knickers set and a fifties-inspired dress with a cinched-in waist and a closely fitting bodice. Zipped up, the dress fitted Janet’s torso like a second skin.

  Downstairs, she heard the front door open and close. ‘Janet?’ Ray called.

  Janet smoothed the dress down over her hips, looking at her reflection nervously. ‘I’m up here!’ she called. ‘In the bedroom. Come up!’

  As Ray came upstairs, Janet had just enough time to put some lipstick on. Then she turned towards the door with a smile on her face.

  ‘I’ve been shopping,’ she said as he came in. ‘What d’you think?’

  Ray frowned, looking her up and down. ‘It’s a bit short for you, isn’t it?’ he said.

  Immediately Janet’s smile crumpled. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Do you think so?’ And she looked down at herself.

  ‘Well, no offence, love,’ Ray went on, ‘but your legs are hardly your best feature, are they? Not now.’

  ‘All right!’ said Janet, feeling hurt and annoyed, reaching behind her to undo the dress zip.

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t want me to lie about it, would you?’ said Ray, as the dress fell into a fabric pool on the floor.

  ‘Of course not, Ray,’ said Janet sarcastically, picking up the dress and starting to fold it up.

  ‘Don’t be like that,’ Ray said, coming towards her. ‘You’ve got plenty of other assets.’ And he began to nuzzle at her breasts with his stubbly face. ‘And I do like this new bra. Very nice.’

  Janet’s instinct was to push him away, but she held back, suffering his attentions while she tried to work out how a confident sex goddess would deal with such a situation. It was true that Ray had just paid her a compliment and was making it clear he found her desirable, but that was right on the heels of implying that she had elephant legs. And since that was the part of their conversation her mind was choosing to dwell on, she just wasn’t feeling very sexy.

  Just then somebody rang the doorbell.

  Hooray! thought Janet. Saved by the bell!

  Ray was pushing her towards the bed. ‘Ignore it!’ he said, still nuzzling.

  But the bell rang once again, persistently.

  ‘Go on, Ray. It must be important,’ Janet said, giving him a little push.

  Ray groaned. ‘Don’t move!’ he commanded.

  Sighing, Janet lay back on the bed, listening to her husband clumping down the stairs. Then, next moment, she sprang up again, as she heard Gwen’s voice.

  ‘Ray!’ Gwen said. ‘I’ve been trying to catch you! There’s something I think you ought to know about!’

  Oh, no!

  Quickly Janet pulled the discarded dress back on, intending to hurry down to stop Gwen from saying too much. But then, as she went to the door, she paused. It was probably too late anyway; Gwen would already have done her worst by now. And wasn’t it best if Ray found out really? After all, he was always going on at her for not enjoying sex, so he should be pleased she was trying to do something about it.

  Nervously, Janet sank back down onto the bed to wait for her husband. She didn’t have to wait long, because just then the front door closed, and Ray began to bound back upstairs. One look at his face when he had torn the door open was enough to obliterate Janet’s fragile bravado.

  ‘Are you trying to make a complete fucking fool of me?’ he demanded, eyes narrowed, one hand driving his black hair back from his face in a gesture of complete fury.

  ‘Ray, I just– ’ she started, but he wasn’t in a mood for explanations.

  ‘The whole fucking estate will think I’m crap in bed!’

  ‘Oh, no, I don’t think they– ’

  ‘When the fact is, bloody Casanova himself wouldn’t be able to make you come! You are frigid, got it?’ He stabbed one brutal finger in her direction. ‘Fucking frigid!’ And with that he turned tail and stormed down the stairs and out of the house.

  Janet followed him. ‘Ray!’

  She reached the open front door just as he got to his car. ‘And you needn’t think you’re going to anymore of those sodding classes, because you’re not!’

  ‘But I was only doing it for you!’ Janet cried, but too late. The car door slammed behind him and seconds later the engine roared into noisy life.

  As Ray drove off with a screech of tyres, Janet looking helplessly after him, a taxi pulled up outside the house from the opposite direction. The door opened and Debbie got out, complete with several heavy-looking suitcases.

  ‘Nigel’s a total shit,’ she told her mother. ‘I’ve left him. And what on earth are you wearing?’

  Thirteen

  ‘Happy birthday, sweetheart.’

  Reenie wished Ted would cry. If he cried, then she could really cry herself. But he never had, not once. Not three years ago when the phone call had come, not at the funeral, not even when they’d gone to the mortuary to identify Craig’s body.

  And now it seemed as if Ted’s grief would remain hidden forever. At least this time he’d actually come to the graveyard, but he wasn’t really here, was he? Not next to her while she laid the wreath on Craig’s grave. No, he was off with the grandchildren, supervising a game of tag amongst the gravestones.

  ‘He doesn’t mean it, love,’ she said now to Craig, kneeling on the grass, uncaring of the gathering stains on her tights. ‘He loved you so much.’

  ‘Of course he did,’ Gaynor said gruffly.

  ‘Yes,’ Julie agreed.

  The three of them bowed their heads, choking back emotion. Reenie reached out to straighten the wreath. It was an excuse to touch the soil of her son’s grave, the nearest she could get now to touching him.

  Slimmer than Reenie had thought was good for him, Craig had still been able to lift sizeable Reenie off her feet, swinging her around the kitchen in an affectionate hug, making her squeal and protest. ‘How’s my best Mum this morning?’ he’d say.

 
‘She’d be better if she saw you doing any work towards your exams!’ she’d protest back, time and time again. Why had she done that? When she’d always known Craig wasn’t the exam type? People like Craig didn’t need exams. They made their own way in life.

  If they lived long enough.

  * * * * *

  ‘He was only nineteen. Passed his test first time. The car was his Dad’s old one. Craig worked on it; good with engines he was. First proper time out in it when it happened.’

  At the next workshop, Reenie tried to share her grief with the other women. ‘Every birthday I think “this year it’ll be easier,” but it never is. Same with the anniversary of the accident.’ She hadn’t intended to talk about it, but she hadn’t been able to pretend nothing was wrong either. She just felt too emotional.

  ‘Let it all out, Reenie,’ Jade encouraged her. ‘Let it all out.’

  ‘I wish Janet was here,’ she said, sensing that Janet, being a mother, would understand.

  ‘Yes,’ said Estelle. ‘I wonder where she is?’

  There was a pause. Reenie knew she ought to try to pull herself together, but somehow she just couldn’t find what it took. The same as she hadn’t been able to find what it took to celebrate Marcia’s twenty-first the way it had deserved to be celebrated. None of the bright smiles and presents had been able to hide the true focus of all their thoughts, poor cow. Forever afterwards the anniversary of Marcia’s birth would serve as a reminder that Craig, her twin, ought to be alive and celebrating his birthday too.

  ‘Would it help to tell us exactly what happened, Reenie?’ Jade asked.

  Reenie shrugged. ‘We don’t know, not exactly. The police interviewed most of the young people on the estate, but…nothing. If any of them do know anything, they’re keeping quiet. The only clear thing is there was some kind of row that turned into a race. Craig’s car ended up wrapped round a lamppost, and both he and Louise, that was his girlfriend, were killed instantly.’

  Jade pulled her chair closer to squeeze Reenie’s hand. Reenie lifted the other hand to wipe the tears from her face.

  ‘And the worst thing about it,’ she went on, voice quavering, ‘is because Craig was the one at the wheel, it feels like we haven’t got the same right to be cut up about it as her family have. Louise’s. Been feuding with us ever since, they have, the Blocks. Spit at us in the street and hurl abuse every chance they get.’ Reenie sniffed. ‘The kids are the worst. Louise’s brothers. Marcia gets more stick than any of us. Pick on her any chance they get, they do.’

  ‘Maybe you need to apologise. Either that or do something to make amends.’

  It was unfortunate, perhaps, that it was Kate who broke the silence that greeted the end of Reenie’s story. Kate, who, no matter what the provocation, was the person responsible for removing Marcia from the college course Reenie had hoped would serve as a distraction and a focus for her daughter.

  ‘Like what?’ Reenie’s response was automatically hostile.

  Estelle, who had been very quiet during Reenie’s outpouring, spoke up in her defence. ‘The girl’s dead. What can Reenie possibly do about that?’

  Kate shrugged, keeping her head down. ‘There’s these projects for young people,’ she said. ‘Community drama groups.’

  ‘How is some drama group,’ Reenie spat the words out scathingly, ‘supposed to stop that lot having a go at my family?’

  ‘Listen to what Kate has to say, Reenie,’ Jade interjected persuasively.

  Another shrug from Kate. ‘Well, they’re specialist youth workers who work with joyriders. Get them involved in video projects and stuff. I saw one film they’d made with some kids. It was quite good.’ She paused, then said casually, ‘I could find out about it, if you like.’

  Reenie wasn’t sure how to respond. She was torn between her desire to find some sort of solution to her problem and an instinctive dislike of Kate that made her resistant to anything she suggested. At the end of the last class they’d reached some sort of uneasy truce, but instinctively Reenie still couldn’t bring herself to trust her. Or to like her very much.

  ‘That sounds like an excellent idea, Kate!’ Jade said. ‘Doesn’t it, Reenie?’

  Reenie shrugged. She didn’t want to admit that she was interested in the idea. ‘It’d take money though, wouldn’t it?’ she said grudgingly. ‘Something like that?’

  ‘There’s grants you can apply for,’ Kate said. She paused, then said casually, ‘I could look into it for you if you like.’

  It was an olive branch, Reenie could see that, but she still felt reluctant to be beholden to Kate.

  * * * * *

  ‘Look at this one, girls!’ Later on in the session, Estelle looked as Reenie held up a particularly large vibrator from the pile of vibrators of all shapes, sizes, colours and functions that Jade had laid on a piece of silky cloth on the floor.

  Somehow, during the last hour, they had become the ‘girls’ – a group. Estelle wasn’t quite sure how that had happened, but it had. Maybe it had started with Reenie telling them about her son’s death, and Kate’s suggestion of a community project. Whatever, there had been a general shifting of opinions. Just a slight one, but no less important for that. Enough to allow them to laugh together anyway.

  ‘It certainly puts all the men I’ve known to shame,’ she said of the vibrator.

  ‘Looks like it was modelled on a mule,’ Kate added.

  Jade took the vibrator from Reenie and switched it on. ‘Actually, Kate,’ she said, ‘it was.’

  Laughing, Reenie picked up the vibrator’s box, holding it at a distance so she could read the print. ‘Hey, get this!’ she said. ‘It’s only called a Mule Rutter!’

  They laughed, and Jade passed the buzzing vibrator to Kate, who moved it indecently up and down through the air, inspiring even more laughter.

  ‘Your vibrator is your personal slave,’ Jade told them. ‘It awaits for your command, its only purpose to provide you with pleasure.’

  Reenie was on a roll. ‘Doesn’t answer you back either, does it?’ she said.

  As they examined more of the vibrators, Estelle kept thinking about Janet. Why wasn’t she here? She was fairly sure Janet wouldn’t have seen a vibrator before, and besides, she was missing all the fun. Estelle was pretty sure something drastic must have happened to keep her away. She knew how important the classes were to her new friend, and she didn’t think Janet was the type to stay away on a whim.

  ‘I’m going to phone Janet,’ she told Jade, taking her phone from her bag. ‘Find out what’s happened to her.’

  She dialled, listening to the ringing tone against a background of giggling and buzzing vibrators, but there was no answer.

  ‘Perhaps she had to go into work or something,’ Reenie suggested, trying a clitoris stimulator attachment against her nose. ‘Good Gawd! You could use that to scrub floors with!’ she said, and Estelle laughed, switching off her phone.

  ‘It might take you a while to do a whole floor with that,’ she said, and then, as she was putting her phone away, something, or rather someone, caught her eye at the window. ‘Why!’ she said. ‘The dirty bastard’s spying on us!’

  The other three heads swivelled around to look. Bill Black was up a ladder, ostensibly cleaning the window, but clearly doing a lot more looking than cleaning.

  Kate’s chair scraped back. ‘Oy!’ she shouted, hands on hips, but Jade was already sprinting across the hall to draw the curtains with the curtain cord.

  Swish! And Bill Black was obscured from view.

  ‘Hope he falls off his bloomin’ ladder!’ said Reenie, and they all laughed as they returned to their examination of the vibrators.

  * * * * *

  While all this was going on, Janet was in the superstore on the edge of town pushing a loaded shopping trolley with one squeaky wheel bleakly along the aisles.

  She was miserable. Ray wasn’t talking to her, Debbie was alternately whinging about Nigel and demanding to know what was wrong between Janet
and her father, and, worst of all, Janet was really missing the company of her new friends. The workshops had been a bit of light in her life. Even if she never had an orgasm, it was just so nice to talk and to laugh and to try new things.

  A few weeks back, she would never have thought it possible that somebody like Estelle would want to be her friend. And yet Estelle had given up loads of her precious time to help Janet choose new clothes – clothes that were now in the back of her wardrobe, probably doomed never to be worn.

  ‘Janet!’

  Blinking back into focus, Janet’s heart sank even further at the sight of Gwen bearing down on her past the toilet rolls with her trolley. Well, she wasn’t going to talk to her. This was all her fault.

  ‘I’m glad to have seen you,’ Gwen said, stopping by Janet’s side.

  Janet turned away, pretending to be very busy comparing the prices of the various toilet roll brands.

  ‘I want to apologise.’

  Janet made her choice and placed a large pack of Supersoft lily white three-ply into her trolley, then moved on to the disinfectant.

  Gwen trundled after her. ‘I know I shouldn’t have gone behind your back like that,’ she said, ‘but I only had your best interests at heart. Honestly.’

  Still ignoring her, Janet reached for an extra large bottle of disinfectant.

  ‘I care for you, Janet, you know that.’

  The label on the disinfectant bottle read ‘Destroys all lurking germs stone dead!’ Janet put it into her trolley next to the toilet rolls, shooting a meaningful glance at Gwen as she did so.

  But Gwen didn’t pick up on the hint.

  ‘Look,’ she persisted, ‘it’s not too late. We could still enrol on class together. Didn’t you want to learn to knit? I think there’s a Beginner’s Knitting class. Come on – say yes! It would be just like old times…’

  And suddenly all Janet’s fight went out of her. What was the use? It was like trying to get through a brick wall. She was fated to remain a plain, non-orgasmic, non-exciting, part-time employee and inferior attendee of adult education classes.