Jane Austen novel to discussing the merits of Mr Rochester versus Heathcliff as a romantic hero. Not that she’d have admitted to Mary about reading Ten Sweet Lessons, Estelle thought guiltily, remembering the creased paperback hidden at the bottom of her bag.
Suddenly, she pulled away from Mary as though she’d just had an electric shock. ‘That’s it!’ Estelle exclaimed. Her eyes were sparkling, her face shining with enthusiasm.
‘That’s what, dear?’ Mary asked, looking at her husband in confusion. Alan simply shrugged, staring nervously at Estelle as though she’d gone mad.
‘The solution to my problems,’ Estelle squealed. ‘You, Mary Bainbridge,’ she declared, throwing her arms around her once again, ‘are a genius!’
2
‘Bruce Willis would definitely be in my top five favourite action movie heroes of all time. Don’t you think?’
‘Mmm-hmm,’ Rebecca answered her husband distantly. It was Friday night and they were walking home from the cinema, arm-in-arm against the cold night air. There was a light frost on the pavement, and overhead the stars dazzled in the inky black sky.
‘Bruce, definitely,’ Andy confirmed, nodding thoughtfully. ‘Then Arnie, of course. And Sly Stallone. Who else?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Who else would you have in your top five favourite action movie heroes of all time, darling?’
‘Umm … I’m not sure,’ Rebecca replied uncertainly.
Andy glanced across at his wife. ‘Are you okay, sweetheart? You seem a little preoccupied tonight.’
‘No, I’m fine,’ Rebecca insisted. She pulled her knitted beanie hat further down over her choppy brunette bob, and hoped Andy would change the subject.
‘All that marking to do this weekend, eh?’ he commented. ‘What was it again – Year Ten coursework on the Tudors?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘Never mind. I’ll stay out of your way. I wanted to make a start on stripping the wallpaper in the spare room anyway.’
‘Right.’
‘And then next week,’ Andy broke into a beaming smile as he turned to Rebecca, ‘there’s a big treat in store.’
‘Is there?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Oh yes. The new Spiderman movie is being released,’ he grinned, not noticing the way his wife’s face fell. ‘Whaddya think? Me, you, a medium-sized bucket of popcorn …’
‘It’s a date,’ Rebecca replied weakly.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Andy pressed after a few moments. ‘You just don’t seem as excited as I thought you would be.’
Immediately, Rebecca felt bad. ‘I’m fine,’ she repeated, forcing a smile. ‘I’m just feeling a little bit out of sorts. It’s been a long week, I suppose, and work’s been really busy …’
‘Righto.’ Andy seemed satisfied with the explanation. ‘At least you’ve got me to cheer you up, eh?’ he grinned, giving her a friendly nudge.
They carried on walking in silence, as Rebecca tried to work out just what exactly was wrong with her. She’d been like this for weeks now, and couldn’t shake the general feeling of … what? Restlessness? Boredom?
Rebecca and Andy had been married for over a year now and everything was … fine. Not amazing, not incredible, just … fine. They’d quickly adapted to their little routine of quiet nights in during the week, a Friday night trip to the cinema, and weekends spent doing DIY. There was nothing wrong per se; it was just that it never changed, with every week becoming a carbon copy of the one before.
Everything had seemed so exciting after Andy proposed, Rebecca remembered with a pang. She’d revelled in her role as the bride-to-be, throwing herself into scoping out venues, trying on dresses, choosing the exact flowers for her bouquet. She’d been rushed off her feet, juggling her job as a history teacher with planning her dream wedding, but she’d loved every minute of it.
The wedding day itself had been perfect, the honeymoon in Sorrento utter bliss, and then … reality hit. Was it so unfair to admit that she was finding her life now a little dull?
It wasn’t Andy’s fault, of course. He was easy-going (perhaps a little too easy going at times) and nice looking too, even if his sandy hair was starting to thin, and that cute little belly she’d teased him about at first was becoming a permanent fixture. All of their friends said they made a great couple, and Rebecca knew she should be grateful for her settled, untroubled life.
But there was part of her that couldn’t help but wonder if this was all there was from now on. She was only thirty-three, but she was starting to feel old before her time, and recently she’d had the horrible suspicion that she was turning into her mother.
It was abundantly clear to Rebecca that she and Andy needed to put the oomph back into their relationship – and soon. There was no way she wanted to turn into one of those couples you sometimes saw in restaurants, the ones who sat together in silence because they’d run out of things to say to each other some time back in 2005 …
‘Hey, why don’t we go to the pub?’ Rebecca burst out suddenly.
Andy looked at her doubtfully. ‘The pub?’
‘Yeah!’ Rebecca tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. ‘It’s not too late – we could still make last orders. It might be fun … something different …’
She trailed off, as Andy broke into a huge yawn.
‘The thing is, I’ve had such a long week and I was really looking forward to my bed tonight. Maybe next week, eh?’
‘Uh-huh. Maybe next week,’ Rebecca echoed, forcing a smile. Inside, she felt herself deflate like a punctured tyre. What had happened to the pair of them? They hadn’t been like this when they were dating. She desperately wanted to do something spontaneous, but Andy’s idea of going wild seemed to be ordering an extra-large popcorn on their weekly cinema trip. Not to mention his DIY obsession – recently, stripping the wallpaper was about as exciting as it got in the bedroom too …
Yes, Rebecca was realistic, and knew that the initial throes of passion would fade over time, but she hadn’t expected her sex life to dry up quite so completely. Since they’d got married, sex was a rarity. They hadn’t even consummated their marriage on their wedding night; Andy had got roaring drunk with his old university friends and passed out, fully clothed, on their four-poster bed before Rebecca had time to unlace her corset. Perhaps she should have taken that as a sign, she realised with a sigh.
Even when they did find the time and energy to make love, it had become somewhat … routine. Rebecca could predict the two or three positions they’d work through, before cuddling briefly, turning off the light and falling asleep. She was too embarrassed to talk to any of her friends about the situation, and too scared to bring up the subject with Andy. What if it meant that she was abnormal? Or that Andy didn’t
