Chapter 4
T he last place I’d expected to find myself on the first late-night shopping event of the season, was in an expensive lingerie-come-sex shop. I usually spent it picking up sweets and knick-knacks to fill Christmas stockings, not buying flimsy date night accoutrements.
Upon our arrival, Joyce had chuckled at my reluctance and called me Miss Priss, but I was happy in my prudishness.
Stood in the queue to the till, all I wanted to do was get out of there.
Trying to swallow my embarrassment, I questioned why I’d let my friends talk me inside, never mind into buying something.
I heard unnecessary tutting and grumbling from behind me. Everyone knew December was retail’s busiest time of the year.
‘What’s the hold-up?’
Everyone except the woman further back in line, it seemed, who unlike me, didn’t care who clocked her presence.
Busy with it, staff were obviously doing their best to keep rails and shelves well stocked.
I raised an eyebrow. Until that evening, I’d never heard of a boneshaking wand or handheld curvy.
Or fully appreciated that ignorance was, indeed, bliss.
My gaze fell on my two friends and observing them manhandle the more specialised wares on offer, I cringed at their lack of shame.
Wearing a sexy Santa hat and a feather boa, Joyce stuck out her backside, waiting for an eye-masked Erin, paddle at the ready, to spank her. The two of them snorted with laughter, adding sound to the indelible image that would be forever imprinted on my brain.
Shaking my head, I turned away, but couldn’t resist another quick glance. Erin and Joyce had moved on to the dildo section and I wished the place sold invisibility cloaks.
‘Someone’s in for a treat,’ the shop assistant said when I, at last, reached the front of the line.
My blushes deepened. According to Erin, the scarf style plunge bra didn’t just enhance a woman’s cleavage, its lacy fabric was guaranteed to seduce. And of course, in her opinion, I just had to buy the matching knickers.
When it came to underwear, I’d yet to sample the full bellied cosiness of the high brief, but I still went for comfort over aesthetics, a quality you could find in the women’s department of a supermarket.
What you couldn’t find in places like Asda, however, were the edible licks and massage oils Erin also recommended.
‘If we can’t spoil loved ones at Christmas, when can we?
’ Panic hit me. Far too much information to give to a stranger, I couldn’t believe I’d just said that.
‘I mean ourselves… If we can’t spoil ourselves. ’
As the shop assistant rang up my items up, I watched the total amount increase at an exponential rate. Dreading the cost, my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.
The assistant nodded to the payment machine, and I delved in my bag for my purse.
I crossed my fingers on one hand, while holding my debit card over the screen using the other.
The subsequent bleep sounded more like a yelp, causing me to tense on the payment machine’s behalf.
While having my card declined would be bad enough, to have it declined in a shop that sold sex toys would be downright humiliating.
Waiting for the words payment accepted to flash up, I pretended not to notice the seconds go by.
‘What’s taking so long?’ the woman behind me asked.
I pretended not to notice that too.
At last, the screen changed in my favour, and I could breathe again.
The shop assistant smiled. ‘Would you like a receipt?’
I fast shook my head as I tucked away my purse. ‘No thank you.’ It was one thing knowing what I’d just spent, having the physical evidence to prove it was something else. ‘When you’re ready, ladies,’ I said to Erin and Joyce, desperate to get out into the fresh sexless air. ‘I’ll be outside.’
As I stepped out into the street, an icy wind whipped around my face, perfect for cooling my cheeks down. My feet burned, having walked for what felt like miles, and the handles of all the bags I carried dug into my palms.
I looked up to the sky. Even in the darkness, it appeared heavy and foreboding. However, with no snow forecast, the looming dark clouds indicated yet more rain; weather that made me want to head home, light the fire and snuggle down for what was left of the evening.
‘Spotted anything exciting up there?’ a male voice asked.
I immediately recognised it as belonging to Alex and smiling, I lowered my gaze to meet his. Grinning back at me, he had a cheeky glint in his eyes and his cheeks were pink from the cold. ‘Shouldn’t you be working?’ I asked, surprised to see him.
‘It’s my night off, which I’m using to start my Christmas shopping. Not that I’m achieving much.’ He indicated his bags. ‘So far, I’ve picked up four selection boxes and a Guinness World Records .’
Considering what I’d just bought, the last thing I wanted was Alex comparing purchases and I manoeuvred my most recent out of sight.
‘Before you ask, no, they’re not connected,’ Alex continued. ‘There are no plans to eat chocolate against the clock and my name will not feature in a future edition.’
I let out a laugh. ‘Spoil sport.’
‘I have a nephew who loves random facts and figures. For example, did you know the record for most selfies taken in three minutes is184?’
‘I did not.’
‘Neither did I until I picked up this little beauty.’ Again, he indicated his shopping. ‘I can’t wait to see that boy’s face on Christmas morning. He’s gonna love it.’
Alex’s nephew wasn’t the only one by the sounds of it.
‘Anyway, time to get back to it,’ Alex said. ‘These presents aren’t going to buy themselves.’
His festive enthusiasm was infectious, and I forgot all about my aching feet. ‘Okay. Well nice to have seen you.’
Setting off down the street, Alex turned to face me as he went. Walking backwards, he gave me the most gorgeous of smiles. ‘Merry Christmas!’ he called out.
I shook my head and chuckled, my smile continuing even after he faced forward again. Watching him disappear into the crowd, I considered how much fun Alex seemed. And positive. Characteristics that reminded me of Gran.
The shop door slid open behind me, and my laughter-filled friends appeared.
‘Shall we try out that mulled wine cart we spotted earlier?’ Joyce asked.
Erin grinned. ‘I’m up for that.’
I opened my mouth to explain I was ready for home but before I could answer, Erin had linked arms with both me and Joyce, and we were on our way.
The cart’s line of customers was longer than I’d hoped and unable to face another queue, I spotted a vacant table. ‘Shall I snag that before someone else does?’
‘Go ahead,’ Erin replied. ‘We’ll get the drinks.’
Heading over, I placed my bags down and took a seat.
Glad to be off my aching feet at last, I breathed a sigh of relief.
I savoured the aroma oforanges, cloves, cinnamon and red wine that floated on the air.
The cart vendor, wearing a hoodie under his padded jacket to stave off the cold, sang along to the Christmas carols being piped through the city centre’s speaker system.
As I watched him, I shivered in the cold, my body shaking in harmony with the music.
A little boy giggled as he ran by, quickly followed by a man whom, going off his likeness and exasperated expression, I assumed to be the boy’s father.
They headed towards the square’s nativity scene, where a gathering oohed and aahed over baby Jesus.
I observed couples holding hands, some snuggling close as they admired shop windows, while teenagers congregated in groups.
Women flitted from one store to another as if determined to get a head start on their gift shopping.
All against a backdrop of Christmas lights and festive displays.
Erin and Joyce pulled me out of my reverie when they finally landed, bringing with them three lots of mulled wine and a plate of mince pies.
While they got themselves comfortable, I reached for a hot mug, and wrapping my hands around it, took a sip. ‘Perfect,’ I said, as the soothing liquid warmed my insides.
‘Don’t get too comfortable,’ Erin said. ‘We might not be finished yet.’ She delved into her handbag and pulling out a to-do list, began to read. ‘Tell me, when’s your Christmas tree coming?’
‘Tomorrow,’ I replied.
Erin mumbled to herself, as if placing a mental tick next to each item she noted. She looked from the list to Joyce and me with a satisfied smile. ‘Our work is done.’ Erin lifted her mug for us all to celebrate with a ceramic clink. ‘Cheers, ladies. We have achieved our objectives.’
‘I’m still not convinced all this is necessary,’ I said, gesturing to the shopping bags at my feet. ‘It feels a bit manipulative, like I’m toying with Gideon. As if our relationship’s some sort of game.’
‘Get used to it,’ Joyce said. ‘In my experience, it’s a case of needs must.’
‘Mine too.’ Erin scowled. ‘Unfortunately.’
‘Take tonight,’ Joyce said. ‘As far as Richard’s concerned, we’re both round at yours learning how to Jacob’s ladder.’
The fact Joyce had even heard of that crochet stitch was impressive.
‘Am I lying to my husband?’ Joyce asked. ‘Definitely. But do I have good reason? Yes, I do.’
I narrowed my eyes, unconvinced.
‘Look at it this way,’ Joyce carried on.
‘That one white lie isn’t just saving my sanity; it’s keeping me out of either the divorce court or prison.
And for that alone, it’s worth it.’ She bit into a mince pie.
‘Richard benefits in that he gets to keep his life and his wife. And I get time to myself.’ She shrugged, evidently guilt free. ‘It’s a win-win for both of us.’
‘But aren’t you worried he’ll find out?’ I asked. ‘And feel betrayed?’
‘Who’s going to tell him?’
‘He must’ve noticed you’re not actually doing any crocheting?’
‘One step ahead of you,’ Joyce said. ‘You know that cardigan you had on display that I just couldn’t live without? And the lovely green cushion cover with the raspberry flower design?’
My eyes widened. ‘You didn’t tell him you made them?’
‘I did.’ Joyce grinned. ‘And I don’t feel bad about that either.’
I had to admire her ingenuity.
‘Remember, most people lie to their spouses because they’re playing away. I’m the opposite. I’m doing it to keep us together. I could never do to Richard what Gloria Chalmers’s husband did to her.’ She pondered a moment. ‘Thinking about it, you could learn a lot from that woman, Hattie.’
‘Like what?’ The only thing I knew about Gloria was that she taught at Settledown primary school, and I liked to think I was more intellectually advanced than that.
Joyce took a sip of mulled wine and got herself comfortable. ‘Just like Gideon, her husband suddenly started working extra-long hours. And like you, Gloria thought nothing of it.’
‘I think we know where this is going,’ Erin said.
‘But then her husband got secretive,’ Joyce carried on. ‘Possessive of his mobile phone, sneaking off into another room when it rang, you get the gist. After that, he started picking fights over the simplest of things.’
‘Textbook,’ Erin replied. ‘I bet he smartened himself up as well.’
Joyce let out a dry laugh. ‘Only when he went out, because heaven forbid he put effort in for his wife.’
Looking like she’d stepped in something horrible, Erin pursed her lips.
‘Then weird things started to happen,’ Joyce continued.
‘His taste in music changed, stuff like that. Gloria hadn’t heard of half the bands he was listening to.
She had her suspicions, naturally. But whenever she raised them, he told her she was imagining things and tried to make her feel bad for thinking that way. ’
My heart went out to Gloria. ‘So what happened in the end?’
‘Six months later he left her for his secretary.’ Joyce threw her hands in the air. ‘Turns out Gloria was right all along.’
My gaze flitted from Joyce to Erin and back again. Taking in their knowing expressions, I couldn’t believe they thought I was in the same position. ‘But apart from working late, Gideon isn’t doing any of that.’
‘And he might never,’ Joyce said. ‘But at least thanks to women like Gloria you know what signs to look out for.’ She folded her arms across her chest.
‘And if my plan doesn’t work,’ Erin said, indicating my shopping bags. ‘I suggest you open your eyes.’