1. Helen
Chapter 1
Helen
3 months later
“Okay, this is an intervention. Put the kettle on while we explain.”
My friends had come over for lunch, or so I thought. Vee, Lizzy, and Becks stood in my kitchen, their faces serious.
I turned to fill the kettle and when I looked back, they had vanished, their voices sounding out from upstairs. “What the hell is going on?” I called as I followed them, finding them in my bedroom. “Ladies, care to explain?”
Becks spun around, her long blonde hair moving like she was in a shampoo commercial. “How about you explain?” She shook an old, off-white bra in one hand and a huge pair of tan-coloured panties in the other.
“What? So my underwear is practical and well-loved. What’s the problem?”
“The problem…” Vee shouted from where her head was buried in my wardrobe. “… is you’re single now and in the prime of your life, but you dress like you’re a middle-aged frump.”
I hissed.
“Sorry. Too much?” she asked as she turned, pulling clothes off the hanger with her.
I shook my head, knowing that straight talking was her way. “No, but you could have been a bit gentler with me. I’m newly divorced, you know.” I pouted, but she was having none of it, rolling her blue eyes.
“Sit,” Lizzy instructed, and I moved to the end of the bed while she perched next to me, her slight frame barely making an indent. “We love you. You know that, right?”
“Of course,” I replied because these women were my ride or die; friends for over thirty years.
“Right, so we’re saying this because you need to hear it. You’re forty-nine, beautiful, funny, you have a great job, your own home, and your own teeth.” I bared my pearly whites. “You’re a great catch.”
I huffed.
“What do you see when you look in the mirror?” she asked, pointing to my vanity across from us where I could see my reflection.
I straightened my spine, sucked in my overhanging stomach, which did little to change the way I looked, and then I focused on my face. “Larger than I want to be. Someone old. Past my prime. Tired.”
She took my hand, tutting softly at my reply. “Do you know what we see?” I shrugged. “Someone who is stunning, but who’s given up. Your underwear, your clothes, your hair. You dress like you’re twenty years older than you are. When was the last time you went shopping, or wore something that made you feel sexy? When did you last buy underwear because you wanted to feel hot and not just pick something that would suck in your tummy?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s the point? No one will see them. It’s a waste of money.”
Vee came and sat on the other side of me, her tight black curls bouncing as she did. “But you’re not doing it for anyone else. You’d be doing it for you. To make yourself feel amazing.”
“And,” Becks added, “wouldn’t you like to meet someone… not even anyone serious, but someone you could fool around with, have some orgasms with?”
I snorted. “Yeah. I’m too old for that.”
“For what?” Lizzy asked, her eyebrows vanishing under her poker-straight fringe.
“Orgasms.”
“Go on,” Vee encouraged, her mouth hanging open like I’d said something shocking.
“I’ve not had one in years. Gary told me that women my age struggle with them. The menopause and all that. That's why he stopped trying to… you know… to give me them.”
The three of them stared at me for an uncomfortably long time before Vee leapt up. “Fuck, ladies, this is going to need alcohol. Shall we have a liquid lunch and get to the bottom of this?” she declared, tossing the dresses she was holding onto the bed. “Let’s go into town for cocktails and then we can do some shopping, because Helen...” She held out her hand to pull me up. “It’s time for you to have a makeover.”
Two hours and two margaritas later, I was in the changing room of the department store in our small coastal town, staring down at the black lace bra and matching panties I was wearing.
“Here, put this on, too.” Lizzy passed me a light blue dress.
“It won’t fit,” I retorted as I held it in front of me.
“Try it, Helen. Please.” The way she extended the ‘please’ as if she was begging made me cave to her request.
Mumbling to myself, I slipped it over my head. The material was so soft that it glided over my skin, fitting over my ample breasts and skimming my hips, giving me a curvy outline that looked nothing like me. “I guess it’s okay,” I told her begrudgingly.
“Let’s see.”
Someone pulled back the curtain, and the three of them gasped. “Helen,” Becks whispered. “You look stunning.”
“And younger,” Lizzy added.
Vee leaned in and hung up about twenty more hangers draped in clothes I’d never choose for myself. “And we have more for you to try, so I hope you brought your credit card.”
We finally crashed through my front door hours later, tipsy from the additional cocktails we drank with dinner, carrying a stupid amount of bags filled with dresses, work outfits, shoes, and lots of new underwear that I’d already told myself I would return as soon as I could.
“Right, get your laptop out. We have more things to buy and one more thing to do.” Vee grabbed some scissors out of the drawer in the kitchen, opening and closing them manically as she wobbled slightly on her heels. “I’m going to cut the labels off all of this lot and throw away your old lady underwear, just in case you were thinking of taking anything back.”
My friends knew me too well.
When she came back a few minutes later, laden with my underwear that she unceremoniously threw into the bin, the three of us were sitting around the small dining table, wine poured, laptop open.
“What next?” I sighed, looking between my friends, knowing we were about to have the conversation I’d been avoiding all afternoon.
“When did you last have an orgasm?” Vee asked matter-of-factly as she sat across from me and lifted the wine glass I’d filled for her.
“Erm?”
“Oh, God. That doesn’t sound good.” Becks’ eyes widened.
I picked at my fingernails, trying not to look at any of them. “I mean, with Gary, things hadn’t been good for a really long time. You all know that. We’d not had sex in about two years, but if I had to guess, five years ago.”
Vee spluttered, her white wine showering the table. “Thank fuck you’re divorced now. But what about when you last gave yourself an orgasm?” she asked as she wiped up the mess with her sleeve.
My cheeks heated. I hated how often I blushed.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Helen. We all do it,” Lizzy reassured me. “I have a husband who takes pretty good care of my needs, but I still like some alone time with my favourite vibrator.”
I rimmed my glass with my finger, hoping the ground would open up and put a stop to this. However, it didn’t, and I was forced to answer.
“I’ve never done it,” I mumbled so quietly I knew they wouldn’t hear me.
“What was that?” Lizzy asked.
I lifted my gaze, sucking in a breath. “I’ve never done it.”
“Never done…” Vee’s eyes widened. “Never?” she screeched.
I shook my head. “I was a teenager when I met Gary. We only had sex a handful of times when I fell pregnant. I’ve only ever been with him. I’ve never touched myself, never experimented. We had sex a couple of times a week at the beginning, but then Conner and Callum came along and we didn’t have time. Over the years, we had it less and less… once or twice a month, then once or twice a year, then… well. Anyway, sex was okay. I came sometimes. It was over pretty quick. I never felt the urge for anything more.”
My friends stared at me, open-mouthed.
“You’ve never touched yourself?” Vee confirmed.
I chewed my lip as I shook my head again.
“You’ve never used a vibrator?” she added.
“No.” God, why do people insist on talking about this stuff?
“Did you at least experiment in the bedroom? Go on top, have him fuck you from behind, standing up?” Lizzy checked.
I screwed up my nose. “I tried it on top once, but he told me that my stomach wobbled and it was putting him off.”
Vee’s blue eyes darkened. “Did he ever go down on you?”
I buried my face in my hands, feeling like I was about to burst into tears. I felt so stupid.
“Hey, don’t get upset, Helen,” Becks whispered.
“I gave him blowjobs… handjobs though. He told me he preferred them to sex,” I mumbled into my palms.
“Course he did. Motherfucker,” Vee muttered. “Right, first things first. Vibrators. Then dating. Then finding the right man to show you what you’ve been missing because Helen…” I looked up at the sound of my name. “You’ve been missing out, and it’s time to unleash that sexual being you didn’t know existed all these years.”