wasn’t so sure. Karen had been flabbergasted when she’d admitted how long their dry spell had been and was clearly working on the proviso that no man could live without sex, but then again, Karen was married to a man who woke her up most mornings with something hard jabbing into her back. Whereas these days, Max seemed to have lost his sex drive completely.
‘Still on for a drink next Tuesday?’ Jennifer said, changing the subject. It felt weird making small talk while dressed as a sex worker.
‘Definitely. I’ll try and leave work a bit early and I think Lucy’s coming but Esther still hasn’t got a babysitter.’
Just then Jennifer heard the sound of Max’s key in the lock. ‘Ooh he’s back. I’ll call you tomorrow.’
‘Good luck.’
Jennifer put her phone on silent then raced over to the bed and got herself into position. As she did, it suddenly occurred to her that instead of being consumed by lust, Max might find the sight of her trying to seduce him wildly funny. Oh my god, what if he laughed at her?
Quickly, she swerved her mind back round to the task ahead, acknowledging along the way that it was probably as much her fault as it was her husband’s that they hadn’t done it for so long. She was usually exhausted by the time he got home, busy trying to get the kids to bed and looking forward to nothing wilder than a glass of wine and some telly watching. Tonight however, with the girls at a rare sleepover at their grandparents, there was no excuse. They would have sex. Being physically close was what was required to lessen the emotional distance between them. She felt quite militant about it.
Downstairs she could hear Max taking his shoes off. She waited for him to call up the stairs, but instead it sounded like he was heading straight for the kitchen. Still, he’d come looking for her soon enough.
Minutes passed. There was no sign of him. Then she heard him leave the kitchen and go into the lounge. Damn. This wasn’t the plan. He was supposed to come upstairs and find her leaning back across the bed like a wanton sex goddess. Then, filled with raging desire caused by the fact she was wearing a bra that wasn’t flesh coloured and pants that weren’t large and from a Marks and Spencer pack of three, he was supposed to leap on her and ravish his way back into an intimate relationship.
Still nothing. Feeling irritated beyond belief, she now had no choice other than to heave herself back up and reach for the house phone, the suspender belt disappearing rather depressingly into the crevice of her belly. She rang his mobile.
‘Hello?’
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, making a monumental effort to sound less irritated than she felt.
‘Nothing. Got myself a beer and I’m watching a bit of sport. Why, what are you doing? What are we having for dinner?’
As Jennifer was treated to a crystal clear image in her head, of her husband in his usual position, lying on the sofa caressing his nuts, ‘relaxing’ with a bit of sport on, while waiting for dinner to magically appear in front of him, any vague urge she might have had to sleep with him evaporated. She was a woman on a mission though. The bra alone had cost forty pounds. She wasn’t giving up that easily.
‘Come upstairs.’
‘Do I have to?’
‘Please Max?’ begged Jennifer, feeling the last vestiges of sex goddess slip away from her, like smoke.
‘Can’t you come here?’
‘Just come for a second please. I’d really appreciate it.’
‘Bloody hell Jen, I’ve had a long day and I’ve only just sat down. Ooof, great goal.’
Jennifer quietly put the phone down and stared into the middle distance for a while before slowly peeling off and unclipping her temptress outfit. Once she had, she shoved it all into the back of her drawer, and replaced the prohibitively expensive underwear with a pair of pyjamas before heading downstairs to cook lamb chops, baked potatoes and green beans, served on a bed of deep resentment.
Later, as she and Max sat masticating their overcooked chops in front of The Apprentice, Jennifer wondered if Max would ever desire or appreciate her body again, or whether that was it until she died.
Is this it?
‘Good day?’ she enquired feebly at some point.
‘Er, would be if I could actually hear what was being said. Why would you speak right over the crucial bit?’ He leaned over to get the Sky remote so that he could rewind.
Jennifer stared at her husband blankly, watching him ignore her.
In that moment it hit her that she couldn’t bear for things to continue as they were. She was physically and mentally frustrated, unfulfilled by her job and sad, all of which she might have been able to accept. Only she’d also been reduced to one half of a couple who were sat next to one another on a sofa, bodies present but souls millions of miles away. And that she couldn’t cope with.
Max continued to stare at the telly, oblivious to the maelstrom of potentially life changing thoughts which were swirling around his wife’s head, unaware his other half was questioning how all the decisions she’d made in life had led to this bitterly disappointing moment in time.
Meanwhile Jennifer began plundering the reserves of her memory, something else she’d been doing a lot of lately, searching for feelings she longed to relive, for there was enormous comfort to be taken from the fact that, of course, things hadn’t always been this way.
Summer 1994
The alarm beeped, penetrating the deepest of sleeps.
‘Jen, wake up. It’s already 9 o’clock. We’ve got to get ready and if you want a shower you need to hurry. I said I’d meet Mark at The Pink Flamingo.’
‘Five minutes,’ Jennifer answered drowsily, idly scratching a mosquito bite on her leg. The whirring of the ceiling fan was in danger of lulling her back to sleep again so she forced herself to open one eye, enjoying the gurgle of anticipation that was already building in her tummy, despite her groggy state.
They’d only arrived on the island of Kos five nights ago after a fortnight of taking it relatively easy on the quieter Greek island of Santorini. Before that they’d been to Mykonos and Rhodes. There had been the odd moment of tension, but generally speaking, she and her friends had managed five weeks of travelling with no major disagreements and were having the time of their lives. They’d originally planned on visiting a few more islands before heading home but Jennifer had a strong feeling that they’d probably spend the remainder of their trip here, until either their money ran out or their livers packed up. Whichever came first. Kos had simply proved too fun to leave, what with Bar Street (self-explanatory), the outdoor clubs that stayed open till the sun was starting to rise in the sky, the sandy beaches and the biggest appeal of all, tons of gorgeous men.
They’d all slept with someone, though if she were being totally honest, Jennifer rather regretted her liaison at the beach with a handsome Greek guy on their second night. She knew she’d lived up to the reputation English
