Chapter 16
16
Drew thumped his hands against the plastic table.
On his morning train ride, it had been fine, words spilling from his mind quicker than his fingers could keep up with. He had been on a roll. He had been on fire. And then, on the way back, nothing.
‘Come on!’ he said to himself as he attempted to put down a single sentence, only to delete it thirty seconds later. ‘What is wrong with you?’ The man in the opposite seat lifted his head from his paper to offer Drew a glare, but he didn’t care. There were bigger things to deal with than funny looks from other commuters. Like what the hell was going on with his writing.
For a further twenty minutes, he continued to battle away, writing and deleting, writing and deleting, until he gave up altogether and spent the last fifteen minutes of the journey playing Scrabble on his phone. He told himself it had been a long day at work as he ambled back home from the station. He would be back on form the next morning.
To Drew’s distress, the next morning was just as bad, as was the following afternoon. He got on with other jobs. There was plenty of Home Crew work to keep him occupied, and he booked the hotel for Sarah and him to stay at for the Christmas party before she could change her mind, but for three full days, he managed no more than four badly formed paragraphs. Fortunately, Sarah was behind in the editing, meaning she was oblivious to his sudden case of writer’s block. However, despite her ignorance of the current situation, surprisingly, she was the one who found the solution.
Sitting at the dining room table with her reading glasses moved down to the end of her nose, she flicked her line of sight from the screen to Drew. ‘I don’t want you to take this the wrong way…’ She looked somewhat apologetic as she spoke. ‘But I’m finding it a bit boring.’
‘What? The editing? I thought you were enjoying it,’ Drew said.
‘Oh no, I love the editing part. And I’m getting rather good at it. I mean your story. I’m finding the story a bit boring.’
Drew stiffened. ‘What do you mean, boring? How can it be boring? It’s full of sex. Sex isn’t boring.’
‘Well, it kind of is. At least, what you’ve written is.’
With a strong sense of purpose, Drew moved across the room and pointed at the screen from over her shoulder.
‘What are you on about? She’s just been rescued by a fireman who swept her off her feet during a house fire and ravaged her against his pole. That’s exciting.’
‘I know. But in the previous chapter, she was rescued by a handsome doctor, who just happened to pass when she was feeling faint, then he took her back to his surgery to ravage her on his hospital bed.’
‘She was suffering from a lack of iron?—’
‘And in the chapter before that, she was rescued by a sailor when she got into trouble on her dinghy, and he took her back to his cabin and rav?—’
‘Okay, okay. I can see there’s a little bit of a theme going on here.’
‘It’s the only thing going on. There’s just a lot of rescuing and ravaging.’
Drew stepped back from the computer.
‘It is erotic fiction, Sarah. That’s what erotic fiction is. There’s meant to be sex going on.’
‘I get that, but there’s meant to be other stuff going on as well,’ she protested. ‘And the sex. It’s all the same. Honestly, if I have to read about a hot tub one more time, I’m going to give up editing this thing altogether. Why did the doctor even have a hot tub in his surgery?’
‘It’s called artistic licence,’ Drew protested.
‘No, it’s called a weak storyline. And it’s showing.’
With his jaw jutting out in a remarkably similar manner to Eva’s, Drew stared at the screen. There was no point denying it; Sarah was right. That was probably why he’d been struggling so much for the last chapter and a half. Still frowning, he let out a low hiss. As a young man and now as a married older one, he’d always been perfectly happy with the standard of his and Sarah’s sex life and, to be brutally honest, when he’d needed that little extra, he’d never been one to shy away from porn. But normal porn. Married man porn. Looking at it now, there was no point in pretending the two of them were anything other than what they actually were: traditional. If statistics were to come into it, he’d estimate around 85 per cent missionary, 10 per cent doggy, and an additional 5 per cent left for late-night fumbles in the dark where either he or Sarah didn’t fully appreciate the position of one another’s legs and therefore put things in very unexpected places. At least 98 per cent of all encounters happened in the bedroom, on the bed, and under the covers, and that was fine for him. Just apparently not for his new-found career.
‘You simply need to find some ways of spicing it up,’ Sarah said, breaking his stream of thought. ‘The bulk of it is fine. You just need to change the pace now and again.’
‘What do you suggest we do?’
Sarah wasn’t entirely sure she had made the suggestion to open up six tabs’ worth of different porn sites, but fifteen minutes later, she and Drew were sitting together on the sofa with the laptop open and a screen full of flashing logos and X-rated images.
‘Nope,’ she said, as a pair of legs opened wide onto the screen in front of her. ‘This is not what we’re after.’
‘What about this one then?’
‘With the piercings? No, definitely not.’
Drew went back to the search bar and tried again.
‘This site says it’s good for women.’
‘Let’s give it a go,’ Sarah said, looking at the pages of whips and handcuffs, along with a variety of lower-region hairstyles. She couldn’t help but wonder how people designed such creations, let alone coiffed them. The sight of them was enough to make her itch.
‘Inspiring?’ Sarah asked.
Drew’s eyes bulged as he scrolled the screen down from one video to another.
‘I think intimidating may be the better word. That’s not natural, is it?’
Closing her eyes, Sarah sucked in a lungful of air and clenched her fists. She wasn’t going to be a prude about this. She just wasn’t. She was young and in her prime. Besides, they were looking for work. Inspiration , she reminded herself again.
‘What about that?’ Drew pointed to a five-second clip on loop. ‘That could have a story to it.’ He clicked on the photo. A pair of shaved testicles bounced onto the screen in front of them.
‘Nope. No. No inspiration there!’ Sarah leaned across Drew and clicked the back button on the tab. ‘Maybe this was a bad idea,’ she said. ‘Maybe we should just be looking at other books.’
‘Do you have time to read them?’ Drew asked in earnest. ‘Come on. This can work. We just need to find the right site. Please. I want you onside with this.’
Sarah inhaled. It was necessary market research, she told herself. It was for the benefit of the book. She cast her gaze at her husband. Drew was so happy at the minute, and as far as their marriage went, there was no denying this project was bringing them closer. They hadn’t spent so much time talking to one another since before George was born. Besides, she liked the editing. Really liked it. It was the first time in years that she felt like a person, not just a mum or a housewife. Just walking to the shops, she could feel the spring returning to her step. And it took her mind off the impending birth. With that in mind, she reached across to the sideboard and grabbed a notepad and pen. She wasn’t going to write full sentences, just a few key terms or words to make sure they didn’t forget anything.
‘What are you doing?’ Drew’s hand moved away from the laptop to lock with Sarah’s, a quizzical look on his face.
‘What do you mean? I’m making notes.’
‘What for?’
‘For you to use. You know, if any plot ideas jump out at you.’
The quizzical look deepened.
‘You’re turning this into a work activity?’
‘Well, that’s what it is, isn’t it?’
The corner of his lips curled upwards. ‘Sarah, my love.’ He shifted the computer from his lap to the floor. His eyes narrowed as his hand lay flat against her thigh. ‘Sometimes, work can be fun too.’
The next evening, when the children were in bed, and Sarah sat down with the computer at the dining-room table, Drew drummed his thumbs against his thigh, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject. While the porn-induced fumble had been nice, it hadn’t helped him in quite the way he had hoped. Sure, he’d managed half a chapter that day, if you combined his commute to work and back, but it had still been a slog. Things just weren’t flowing as naturally as they were.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he told Sarah, stopping his thumbs from drumming just long enough to start to twiddle them together.
‘Uh-huh.’ Sarah’s eyes stayed focused on the screen.
‘Well…’ His throat constricted. ‘I had a couple of ideas. A couple of things I think might work.’
‘Sounds good.’
‘I just wanted to run them by you.’
‘Uh-huh?—’
‘Will you look up for one minute?’ Drew’s nerves got the better of him. ‘I want to talk to you.’
With a look of moderate surprise, Sarah lifted her gaze and placed her hands to the side of the keyboard. Drew took a deep breath.
‘Okay,’ he said, his head nodding as his internal monologue continued to convince him this was a wise thing to suggest. ‘I was thinking that perhaps we should invest in some, you know, toys.’
‘Toys?’ Sarah frowned. ‘What toys? The kids already have more toys than we can fit in the house.’
‘Not kids’ toys. You know, toys . Like the ones they advertised on the websites.’
Sarah’s eyes widened. ‘Oh. You mean sex toys?’
Drew could feel the colour draining from his cheeks. He was sure it wasn’t meant to be as difficult as this to discuss vibrators with his wife. After all, weren’t they all designed for women anyway?
‘There were lots of interesting packages online. And I thought it would be good. You know, for us and the book.’
‘You realise we’re having a baby? I’m not letting you down there for at least six months after this thing’s born.’
‘I know that. But we’ve still got a few weeks before then. It could be fun.’
A thick crease formed between Sarah’s eyebrows, one that Drew recognised perfectly well. In fact, it was the one response he was 100 per cent certain she was going to give, and therefore, he was fully prepared for it.
‘Drew,’ she said with a sigh, confirming exactly what comment was coming next. ‘Do you really think we have the?—’
‘I know. We don’t have the money. But what if it’s our Christmas present to each other? What if this is all we get each other? No silly stocking fillers. No novelty socks that neither of us need, just?—’
‘Sex toys?’
‘Exactly.’
With his chest pounding, Drew watched as her lips disappeared into a thin line. Her pondering pose.
‘And I suppose you’re going to order them?’
‘I could,’ he said, his pulse quickening with the knowledge that he had almost got her on board. ‘Or we could order them together. Or you could go into a shop and choose what you think you’d?—’
‘I am not going into a shop,’ Sarah said, with absolute certainty.
‘Fine, then. We can order online. As long as you’re sure that’s okay for your Christmas present.’
With a withering look, Sarah raised her eyebrows. ‘To be honest, it’s probably a step up from The Best of Coldplay CD you got me last year.’
‘There you go then,’ Drew smiled. ‘Everyone wins.’
‘But they are not going under the bloody tree. The last thing we need is Eva unwrapping a rampant rabbit in front of your mother on Christmas morning.’
Why she had agreed to spend the whole of their Christmas present budget on kinky sex toys, Sarah didn’t know, other than it made Drew happy, and she had wanted to get on with her editing. She hadn’t been joking about him not going down there for six months after the baby was born, though. That was the thing about all the films and television shows about childbirth; they were more than happy to show images of women squeezing their partner’s hands as they screamed out in pain, but what they didn’t show you was what came next. The disgustingness of never really knowing what was going to fall out of your nether regions. And the stitches that made it more than a tad uncomfortable to do pretty much anything. And a bladder that may or may not be able to withstand a tablespoon of anything before letting you down at the most inappropriate times. For some reason, Hollywood didn’t like to talk about those things. When was the last time you saw a woman’s pelvic floor fail them in a blockbuster movie? Never, that was when. Still, if Drew wanted them to merely order some sex toys, that was what they would do.
The next morning, she went online to make her purchases. By force of habit, Sarah went straight for the reduced section of the first website, only to flinch at what greeted her. Veins and flaps made her simultaneously scrunch up her eyes and gag. How could these things possibly be a turn on? Each to their own and all that, but really. She shuddered and forced her eyes back open. And there were so many things on there. How was she meant to know what Drew would like? Or what she would like for that matter? What she really needed was some kind of selection pack. A sex-toy selection pack.
Being unable to think of a better course of action, she typed ultimate sex toy selection pack into her browser. A second later, her screen filled.
Sarah read the first search result. The ultimate sex-toy set . She clicked on it and read through the contents. There was certainly a lot in it, and while it cost the same price as a weekly food shop, it did say the total package saved over 30 per cent compared to purchasing the items separately. Still, it was a lot of money. Too much. And there was no guarantee they’d like using everything in it. She went back to the previous page and removed the last word. The ultimate sex-toy. After taking a second to load, a series of images and adverts filled the page. Of them, one caught her eye. With nearly 1000 reviews, all of which were four or five stars, it looked like as safe a bet as she was going to get in such a situation. Determined not to spend the rest of the morning adding to her cookies, resulting in her computer never showing her anything other than ads for vibrators again, she pulled out the only credit card she knew for certain worked and typed the number in. An order confirmation appeared on the screen. Delivery in two days. Perfect.