Some Kind of Wonderful

  ‘I’ll get some more drinks sent over now you’re all here,’ shouts Jasmine over the music, even though it’s clear the bottles of what must be vodka and a variety of mixers that have been placed beside our bed are still full. ‘Have a good night.’

  ‘Happy New Year,’ Connie, Matt and I shout over to her as she walks away.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Natalia giggles, grabbing hold of my arm while covering her face with her other hand. ‘I’m so embarrassed. I didn’t realize it was going to be like this. The client is one I’ve had for a couple of years and he’s always asking me to come here. I’ve always declined – mostly because clubs aren’t really my thing.’

  ‘Well, look at what you’ve been missing out on,’ I laugh, gesturing around me. ‘It’s basically the coolest sex shop I’ve ever been in, but with a dance floor and glitter ball thrown in.’

  ‘Oh God! Have you been to the toilets yet?’ she gasps, this time her hand covering her eyes as though wishing whatever she’s seen to be unseen.

  ‘No,’ I chuckle.

  ‘Don’t …’ she demands, looking aghast as she shakes her head.

  ‘Mentally scarred,’ Alastair jokes, while putting his arm around her and protectively squeezing her.

  Natalia laughs at the gesture and bats him away. For a second or two they look at each other with such admiration that it makes me wonder if I’ve read this right.

  I glance at Connie and spot she’s noticed it too. She catches me looking at her and raises her eyebrows at me. I know what she’s thinking without her thoughts needing to be verbalized. She might as well be making a circle with one hand while poking a finger from the other hand through it.

  Sex.

  They’re having it.

  Surely.

  Natalia did say they were only mates, and that the other friends in their group had all coupled off, leaving the two of them single and hanging out a lot more. But maybe single means slightly more than that. Perhaps they’ve got a little ‘friends with benefits’ thing going on. I’m not one to judge – if I were Natalia I’d definitely be reaping all the benefits I possibly could from this relationship.

  ‘Best get comfy,’ Connie sings, kneeling as she climbs on to the bed and grabs a pillow.

  The rest of us follow, with Matt sliding in next to Connie on one side of me and Natalia and Alastair on the other. I suddenly feel like the third wheel on a double date. Or maybe I’m the fifth wheel – the one that’s usually left in the boot untouched and unused.

  I’m so glad I didn’t try and squeeze into one of my old miniskirts for tonight. I would’ve spent the whole night worrying about flashing my foof. Not that anyone would notice here when there’s so much naked flesh on show.

  ‘What on earth is that?’ Connie points.

  The rest of us swivel our heads in time to see a stainless steel sink, complete with tap, being carried towards us by three members of staff. Sparklers branch out of it, making the whole thing light up.

  ‘Everything’s in the Kitchen Sink,’ one of the barmen beams, looking impressed with himself as pillows are moved and it’s placed right in the centre of our bed.

  ‘What’s in it?’ I ask, amazed at the sight before us.

  ‘Two bottles of champagne, two of vodka, and whatever else I could fit in,’ he laughs, handing out two-foot straws to each of us.

  ‘Thank you,’ Natalia smiles while they’re walking away. As soon as they’re out of earshot her head spins across, looking at me worryingly. ‘I’m going to be shitfaced after this.’

  ‘I’ll be lying down asleep on this in no time,’ I laugh, rubbing my hand along the comfortable mattress we’re all sitting on.

  ‘I’m sure that’s completely what they’re here for,’ smirks Alastair, twiddling his straw between his fingertips.

  ‘Really?’ I smile.

  ‘Shall we?’ asks Matt, tapping his straw against the stainless steel sink.

  Our heads gather together as we dive into the pink liquid as one. It might look questionable, but it’s deliciously fruity and bubbly. I pause to give myself a quick warning, knowing that I’m likely to just down a whole litre, forgetting how much alcohol is in it. Pace is key. A marathon not a sprint. I go in for some more … it’s New Year’s Eve, after all.

  ‘This could be the best thing I’ve ever tasted,’ says Connie, who’s finally come up for air.

  I can’t help but giggle. I giggle at the absurdity of everything in this room, and how vastly different it is to everything that was in my life up until two months ago. I giggle so much I find myself laying back on the mattress and staring up at the stunning architecture above us, comparing it to this time last year when we were playing Trivial Pursuit with Ian’s extended family, and I was bored out of my brains. There, I admit it. There were times when I was unfulfilled and tired of being with Ian. It wasn’t all rosy. We were flawed.

  Life has changed, but life under this majestic dome of purples, pinks, blues and reds is wonderful. Seeing people dance, talk and flirt is thrilling. The way people touch, look at and taste each other sends shivers through me, making me remember a time from before when I was the horny minx doing the seducing. Being surrounded by this room full of unrestrained indulgence, and people simply living without a single care is amazing.

  I feel good.

  I feel free.

  26

  Soon after the sink appears, out comes the food, and I’m so glad it does. I didn’t even realize I was hungry until the sensational aromas started wafting their way up my nostrils. Steamed edamame, duck spring rolls, chilli salt squid, some sort of tempura crab roll, Thai prawn crackers and chicken gyoza – it’s all spread around us. I don’t know about everyone else, but I don’t feel like I ever want to leave this bed, even if I have been wedged in between two couples for the last hour.

  Minus all the rude things that are clearly going on around us (I’m pretty sure I saw an actual willy appear on the bed next to us a little while ago before its owner and his ‘assistant’ disappeared), there’s no doubt in my mind that this is what heaven must look like.

  The thought is confirmed when Sexy Al (I won’t be calling him that out loud) passes me a tray with duck spring rolls on.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, opting for the second one in on the plate, as that one looks more loaded and meaty than the rest. There’s no point eating like a sparrow in front of him in a bid to impress. I don’t believe in that crap anyway and something is clearly going on with him and Natalia, so I wouldn’t want to go there even if I did feel like now was the right time to ‘jump back on the horse’.

  Being with someone else isn’t something I’ve actually allowed myself to think about, but I know there will come a time when I want to. The thought of someone else even seeing me naked or sharing that intimate connection is crippling and heartbreaking – because a large part of me is still wrongfully loyal to Ian and considers it cheating, even though it’s clearly not. Ian knew my body, he knew what I liked and how a quick nibble on my ear could get me going. More than that, no one else has seen me completely naked since I was eighteen. I owned my body back then and felt so utterly comfortable in it. But I’ve not got the body I once did. The legs are still killer, but I’m not as pert and seamless as I used to be. I don’t feel so secure about it. Perhaps it’s an age thing, or perhaps I’ve been comfortably in a relationship for too long.

  That said, I have needs and haven’t transformed into a nun just yet! I should probably be looking around to see what other fish I can tackle once I get my mojo back. It’s not quite resurfaced yet, but, rather strangely, being in this atmosphere is helping coax it out of its current hiding place. I feel a yearning brewing and I’m hoping that energy isn’t going to be targeted at the beautiful, yet obviously unavailable, specimen in front of me.

  ‘I hear you’re going to start working with Nat,’ he smiles, placing the plate between us.

  Natalia’s helping Connie find the infamous sex toilet and Matt has gone off to try and call his nan
ahead of the countdown – which clearly makes him the world’s most perfect man. This means Alastair and I are alone with all the food and a sink that’s still two-thirds full.

  ‘Nothing’s official yet. It’s just been said in passing,’ I say, delighted to hear she’s been discussing it, but trying to stop myself from smiling so that I don’t seem too keen and desperate. It’s impossible, so I let a grin appear before popping a duck roll in my mouth and trying not to make too much of a mess. I’m not one to be strict about not eating in bed (Ian hated crumbs anywhere near the sheets) but this feels like we’re pushing that relaxed way of living to the extreme.

  ‘She’s feeling you out,’ Alastair says, matter-of-factly, in what I’ve discovered is a Leeds accent.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘There’s no need, I’d love to,’ I admit. ‘She seems great.’

  ‘She is,’ he nods slowly, leaning towards the sink with his straw.

  ‘How long have you known each other?’ I ask.

  ‘Since uni,’ he says, taking a sip before sitting back up. ‘There’s a big bunch of us that are still super tight. It’s good for all of us to have that unit here in London – it can be a lonely place.’

  ‘Natalia said you guys see a lot of each other,’ I say, remembering her talk about them at Michelle’s wedding. The hope is that innocently asking about the whole group will eventually lead to him telling me more about them as a potential couple.

  ‘Yes. We have a weekly pub quiz team,’ he says proudly.

  ‘No way! I don’t think she told me that!’ I laugh. ‘I didn’t even think they existed any more.’

  ‘Are you kidding me,’ he gasps, pretending to be offended before breaking into a cheeky smile. ‘We’re actually very good too. Well, not all the time, but we hit a winning streak occasionally – it depends if we’re all there, or if babysitters don’t turn up.’

  ‘You have kids?’ I ask, surprised.

  ‘God, no,’ he declares, as though the mere thought of it is pure madness.

  ‘I see … Well, I think I’d be rubbish at a pub quiz,’ I say, even though I don’t think that’s necessarily true – I have watched every episode of Friends at least ten times (and still find them funny), am pretty clued up with 90s pop culture and retro celeb-based facts (for instance I can tell you what Paul Nicholls went on to do once his character Joe Wicks left EastEnders, or why the amazing Beppe di Marco was forced to leave the Square) and, perhaps more impressively, I can remember the names of most common birds (my granddad used to quiz me). I could start sharing the ways in which I am a fountain of knowledge, but I’ve simply become distracted watching his lips move. Lip-reading is a necessity because of the volume of the thumping music around us, but I’m aware that I’m drawn to them much more than I should be. They have a natural pout, with his peachy-coloured upper lip protruding a tad more than his lower one.

  ‘I won’t invite you along then,’ he smiles, winking at me.

  ‘So how long have you and Natalia been …’ I ask, unable to finish the sentence and kicking myself for even starting it. I blame the wink.

  ‘Been …?’ he frowns, the corner of his lips finding something amusing.

  I shrug, and give a coy smile. I’m not going to say it.

  ‘You do not want to go in there!’ Connie chuckles as she and Natalia bounce back on to the bed and sort out their skirts so that they’re sitting comfortably. ‘There are dicks everywhere. Literally, pictures of great big throbbing hard-ons plastered over every surface, even the toilet seats.’

  ‘It can’t be that bad!’ I shout over the music, cackling at the horror on Natalia’s face; it’s clear she hasn’t found her second run-in with the bathrooms any easier to cope with.

  ‘I’d have preferred lady bits in there,’ Connie says, having given it some thought.

  ‘Really?’ asks Alastair with a grin. ‘Then you’d love the men’s loos! Fanny galore.’

  ‘You mean Pussy Galore?’ I correct with a smirk.

  ‘Did you know she was a lesbian?’ Alastair tells me, breaking away from the main chat.

  ‘Really? But doesn’t the film end with them kissing?’ I ask as a memory of them doing so springs into my mind. My mum and dad used to watch James Bond films all the time, especially at Christmas, but I never took much notice of them. Either I’d be playing with my gifts from Santa or I’d be whining at them to turn it over so that we could watch Miracle on 34th Street for the millionth time, or perhaps a Top of the Pops special. Whatever the case, I’d clearly missed this bit of info when watching whatever Bond Pussy was in.

  ‘Bond cured her,’ he says, raising his eyebrows at me. ‘That was the point of it.’

  ‘Shut up!’ I gasp.

  ‘Ian Fleming wrote about it in a letter to someone,’ he informs. ‘It was the fifties though. The world was full of judgemental, narrow-minded idiots.’

  ‘How’d you find out about this?’ I ask, squinting my eyes at him.

  ‘From a pub quiz,’ he grins, wiping his hands on a napkin. ‘I know a little about a lot.’

  ‘You’re a walking encyclopedia. A condensed version,’ I laugh.

  ‘You should hear what I’ve discovered about how they used to cure hysteria,’ he says, loud enough for me to be able to hear, before picking up an edamame pod and popping it into his mouth, expertly sucking out the beans.

  I’m grateful he’s not looking at me, but it’s enough to know he’s aware that I’m still looking at him.

  I go to reply, but nothing comes out. Instead I feel my cheeks flush. I know about hysteria. I remember hearing some actor talk about it when promoting a film on the subject. At some point in history, women with emotional tendencies used to be ‘treated’ by having their genitals massaged. This led to them having explosive orgasms. The thought of Alastair ‘talking’ to me about the subject is enough to cause a stir in a place that hasn’t been stirred in this manner for quite a while, which isn’t that great seeing as he’s secretly dating my hopefully soon-to-be boss.

  ‘They should’ve chosen boobs,’ I say with great gusto, turning my attention back to Connie and Natalia. ‘They’re inoffensive and fun.’

  ‘Then they could team up with a breast cancer charity!’ declares Natalia, her face excited. ‘You know, a cool one like CoppaFeel!. Then they could promote people checking for lumps and bumps while they’re in there.’

  ‘I’d be up for assisting,’ smiles Alastair, amused by our chat. ‘I’m always up for copping a feel.’

  ‘You’re so helpful,’ Natalia laughs, putting her hand on her chest as her face drops into something more serious. ‘Darling, the way you’d put yourself out for others is just truly admirable.’

  ‘I know,’ he shrugs, as though taking one for the team is a tough job.

  ‘Everyone loves to see a good pair of tits, babes,’ nods Connie thoughtfully while placing her hands on top of her own. ‘I just don’t want to see a stiffie. I don’t need a bright red, throbbing cock staring at me while I’m trying to pee. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. I mean, why do they have to look so angry all the time?’

  I look over to see Alastair chuckling into a bit of salted squid. I give him a playful shove and watch him collapse on to the bed before rolling off it.

  ‘Sorry!’ I voice, rising to my knees and looking over the bedstand, worrying I’ve hurt him.

  He laughs as he pings up into standing, and walks off. ‘Toilet break.’

  ‘He’s about to be greeted with a whole lot of fanny,’ says Connie, causing Natalia and I to crack up.

  ‘Oh, it’s so good to laugh!’ Natalia shouts, clutching her heart.

  ‘Have you forgotten how?’ I giggle, a giddiness washing over me.

  ‘I don’t make enough time for it. If it’s not scheduled in …’

  ‘That’s so shit!’ cries out Connie.

  ‘I know, I know,’ she sings, putting her hands over her eyes as though she’s ashamed of how her life h
as panned out. ‘Alastair always tells me that my priorities are wrong. He’s even started pulling my phone out of my hands when we’re together.’

  Together. Everything she’s just said literally screams the fact that they are indeed in an actual relationship. I hate to admit it, but my heart sinks at the confirmation.

  ‘You’re far too successful for your own good!’ chips in Connie.

  ‘It’s hard not to run with opportunities when they arise, and I want to make sure I’m giving each client my best. Plus, I know how lucky I am. God, I hate moaning,’ she frowns before grabbing a straw and taking a long hard suck of alcohol. Yes, she’s doing impeccably well and has a career most people long for, but she’s also got a lot of responsibility on her shoulders as a result. Our clients aren’t anywhere near the calibre of hers, but even I struggle with their demanding ways occasionally, and have to really be on my toes to ensure they’re satisfied with what I’m doing. It must be a lot for Natalia to tackle on her own. No wonder she appears to be so weighed down by it all.

  ‘Right. I wasn’t going to go here tonight because we’re out in a friends capacity and you might find it weird, but seeing as you’ve brought up work stuff, I’ll say it.’ I pause for dramatic effect and to make sure I phrase the next few words in the right way. ‘Hire me. You need me!’

  Natalia looks up from the sink and straight at me, one side of her mouth rising into a small smile.

  ‘You do!’ nods Connie, eagerly.

  ‘I’ve told you I do,’ says Natalia, her eyes shining at me. ‘I just haven’t wanted to push it.’

  ‘No pushing required!’ I laugh. ‘I know the business and love your work. It would literally be my dream to be working with someone as talented as you!’

  ‘So you would want to work with me?’ she asks, looking surprised as my praise makes her blush.

  I feel like I’ve already dropped more than enough hints for her to see that I’m deadly serious, but clearly not.