Twirling before the full-length mirror, Cheryl tried on her third outfit that day. Her breath quickened at the thoughts of what lay ahead. Out of all the profiles she had viewed on the Debauchery site, Matthew’s was the most sexually adventurous. You could spot the fakes a mile off, the ones who were only interested in what they could get. But with Matthew, it was about what he could do for you. He didn’t brag about good looks or extraordinary abs like most of the men featured there. He claimed to be a normal guy who blended with the crowd. But that suited her. She would have been too intimidated by anything more. One night was all he promised, and his lists of requests were full. As a flutter rose up inside her, she knew the boy-next-door type suited her just fine, even though her girl-next-door years were well behind her. At fifty-five, life was slipping by, and the looks she worked so hard to maintain were fading. Unfazed by the age difference, Matthew had promised a night she would never forget. To step back into a time when she wasn’t somebody’s mother, somebody’s friend… somebody’s wife.

The light chime of her doorbell broke into her thoughts. She cursed softly as her eyes lit on her Gucci watch and realised what time it was. Her best friend was typically early, no doubt unable to wait another second to hear all the juicy details of her future date. Slipping off the black backless dress, Cheryl placed it onto the hanger, having decided it would be her gown of choice for her date.

Quickly pulling on her capri pants and blouse she tiptoed barefooted down the stairs to answer the door.

‘Hannah,’ she said, composing herself.

Ten years her junior, her lifelong friend appeared as excited about her date as she was. After giving her a quick squeeze, Hannah invited herself inside, the scent of Marc Jacobs ‘Decadence’ trailing in her wake. An ex-model, with long blonde hair and excellent skin, Cheryl both loved and loathed her friend in equal measures. At five feet two and a size fourteen, she had spent half her life trying to emulate Hannah’s glamour. She was fed up of being invisible when they walked into a wine bar together, and hearing of escapades she could only dream about. Tonight was all about her, and she was going to shine.

Hannah arranged a cushion before draping herself onto the living room sofa.

‘Have you had your lips plumped?’ Cheryl said, peering closer as she sat next to her friend.

‘I’ve always had them done, darling, just got a little more filler this time. Stung like buggery but Tom adores them.’

‘Which one is Tom?’ Cheryl said. ‘Is he the mechanic?’

‘No, that’s Mike. Tom’s the chef. You know, the guy with the tattoos. Want me to get you up a picture?’

Cheryl snorted. ‘From what I remember, not many of your pictures include faces. Besides, I don’t think my ticker could take any more excitement right now.’

‘I’m so excited for you too!’ Hannah said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. ‘Are you happy with your choice? This Matthew sounds a bit dull to me.’

‘His bio is anything but.’ Cheryl took a deep breath to calm her nerves. ‘At least his sexual history isn’t. But what about Gordon and the kids? I feel so guilty. If he knew what I was about to do…’

Hannah rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘Oh, come on, are you telling me Gordon hasn’t strayed during his weekends away with the lads? What about that time they went to Amsterdam? You think they went there to pick tulips?’

The Amsterdam trip was his brother’s stag party, but Cheryl knew from his sheepish behaviour upon his return that Hannah was probably right. Lately his weekends away were becoming more frequent but she never had the heart to stop him. Despite everything, she still loved her husband. Working in the City was stressful; Gordon needed a release. Having never worked a day in her life, Cheryl could only imagine the pressure he was under. But these days it seemed like everyone was having fun except for her. ‘You’re right,’ she said, with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Besides, it would be a sin to waste the Brazilian.’

‘You got it done!’ Hannah said, a mischievous smile broadening her lips. ‘Well done you!’

Cheryl clasped her friend’s hand as she burst into an embarrassed giggle. ‘I don’t know how you do it. I’ve never been so mortified in all my life!’

‘Sounds like Gordon’s in for a treat. But not before you have your fun, eh?’ Hannah said.

‘You’re right,’ Cheryl said, feeling like a teenager again. ‘It’s just one night. What harm can it do?’