Dancing Over the Hill by Cathy Hopkins (21)

Cait

OK. Let the challenge begin, I thought. Three months to save a marriage. After I’d showered, I went to the list started last night and added:

Things to tackle with Matt.

• Sex. Lack of it.
• Communication. Lack of it.
• Money. Lack of it.
• Plan our future. If there’s to be a future for Matt and me.
• Retirement. What it might mean for Matt and me. What we both want from it.

So, number one. Sex, and how to get Matt and me back in the groove. My thoughts went straight to Tom. Sex with Tom. I felt a stab of desire. Stop this now, Cait, I told myself. Matt not Tom. Lovemaking with Tom had always been amazing which was part of the reason that it made no sense to me when he left, but then, as Lorna had so rightly pointed out, Tom and I had never got to the stage of familiarity that comes with being with someone for a long time. It had been good with Matt once, though different to being with Tom, I’d felt more secure. Maybe that was the key – the sense of safety that was wanted on the one hand was what killed excitement on the other. With Tom, there was always a sense of the unknown, but with it was a worry that he might disappear at any moment – which he did. He says he’s changed, that he now knows what we had, but if I chose him, could I ever trust him not to leave me again? Possibly not.

But I’m going to try really hard not to think about Tom for the time being, I am going to attempt to reawaken the dead, seduce Matt and revive my marriage. Debs was always saying that life is what you make it, so if I am to stay with Matt, it will be what I have chosen, so I can either accept a life of celibacy or take positive action and I choose the latter. I can’t blame Matt for his lack of enthusiasm in the bedroom. It takes two to tango, and it’s not as if I’ve been Fifi the French maid of late – not that I ever was; in fact the only fantasy figure I’d come near to recently was a Zombie queen of the dead. Not exactly a turn-on.

So. How does one seduce one’s husband? I asked myself as I got a cup of tea, went up to my study and turned on my laptop. I’d never really thought about it consciously before. In the early days, sex had been spontaneous with Matt and flowed naturally. We hadn’t needed to think about what to do or where or in what position – it had been intuitive. Then came the years when the boys were small and we were both too exhausted and craved sleep more than sex. Over time, when we did do it again, it became routine, a task on the list – Thursday put the rubbish out, Friday supermarket shop, Saturday sex. Pleasant, but not much more than that, and if nothing else, it kept us connected. We knew exactly how we liked it and how to touch each other, but it became a dance that was too familiar; and slowly, with nothing really being said, it had faded altogether. When in need, go to Google, I thought as I wrote ‘seduction’ in the search area.

A site came up with not just seduction tips but sizzling seduction tips. OK. I will sizzle, like a sausage. No, probably not like a sausage.

‘First you have to get him to notice you as a sexual being,’ I read. Fair point, I thought. Although I took care of my appearance, I had stopped making any effort to look sexy long ago. My shoes were bought for comfort, as was my underwear; my clothes, although stylish, were hardly seductive. So, sex tips for seduction. I got out my pen and made another list.

• Wear red. Seriously?
• Relax and be playful, devil-may-care even. Bring an element of surprise into your relationship – like a beach trip in the middle of the night. Two hours’ drive in the dark. No way.
• Invest in some see-through clothing. I have a see-through shower cap, does that count?
• Wear no underwear and let him know. Hmm. Might be a bit chilly round the nether regions, and when should one let him know? In the supermarket by the veg counter? By the way, lover, I’ve gone commando. Take me now over the aubergines.
• Spice up your love life with a sex toy or two. Sex toys?
• Get into the shower with him. Why? When we have two showers?
• Drape yourself over him while he’s watching TV. Why squash up when we have adequate seating to stretch out comfortably? Hmm. I am clearly not getting into the spirit of this so must make an effort not to be so sensible. Sensible is not sexy. Comfort is not conducive to passion.
• Whisper something naughty in his ear. Like what? Would you like a cream bun? No. Not that kind of naughty, but I am out of practice at the other kind. Clearly more googling is needed.

I felt doubtful. If I followed these tips, it would feel forced and not true to myself. Maybe this stuff would work when younger, but at our age? I asked myself. Immediately, I could hear Debs’s voice in my head. ‘Age is a state of mind and attitude. Don’t put limits on what you can or can’t do or you’ll get old before your time.’ I decided that I would give the seduction advice a try. One tip a day, because I didn’t want to give Matt a heart attack, plus it would be best to have a slow build-up of getting back into being sexual. Rome wasn’t built in a day, neither will be the resurrection of our love life.

Had a look on Facebook. A quiz to find out what kind of princess I am. Couldn’t resist that. Result – a medieval one. In other words, ancient. Can’t argue with that.

*

Tip number 1. Wear something red.

I went through my wardrobe looking for red clothing. I had three red items: a fleece, a bobble hat and thermal hiking socks. Possibly not what the website intended, though could be interesting if worn with nothing else but a red rose up the bum crack. No. Must get in the zone, I told myself. What I needed was a lovely red dress or some red underwear.

Texted Lorna and Debs to ask if they’d come shopping with me. Luckily both were available for an early lunch and agreed to meet in town, though I called Lorna on my way and asked her not to mention Tom to Debs, nor the three-month ‘save my marriage’ challenge.

*

‘You want to go in where?’ Lorna asked when we’d finished bowls of soup at a café near the bus station.

‘The sex shop.’ Lorna gave me a knowing look. She knew the challenge had begun.

‘What for?’ asked Debs.

‘A pound of butter. You’ve seen Last Tango in Paris haven’t you?’

‘Yes, but you can get butter at the Co-op,’ said Debs.

‘Joking. I want to go in for a look for something sexy. I don’t want to go in on my own. I know. I’m a wuss but—’

‘Have you made contact with Tom? Your Facebook old lover?’ Debs asked. ‘Is that what this is about?’

I didn’t dare look at Lorna. ‘No. No. Stop being Facebook police. It’s for Matt. I want to revive our sex life and don’t want to end up dressed like an old tart in drag, which is why I need you two along to give me an honest opinion of what I should get.’ I pointed in the direction of the shop. ‘Plus I’m curious.’

‘I didn’t know your love life needed reviving,’ said Debs. ‘I know things aren’t great with Matt but you never said anything about your sex life.’

‘I know. Not really something to throw into conversation, is it?’

‘Yes. Absolutely it is. You can tell us anything,’ said Debs.

‘I was embarrassed. No one seems to talk about that stuff any more.’

Debs pointed at herself and Lorna. ‘Only because we haven’t got anyone to do “that stuff” with but, even when you have, every relationship goes through patches when the libido is low. That’s why Fabio and I went to Wales to the Tantric weekend.’ She laughed. ‘Just, it didn’t go quite the way I expected. But you can always talk to us, that’s what friends are for – to help you through.’

Lorna gave me a meaningful look, which I ignored. ‘I know how much you like Matt,’ I said, ‘and thought you wouldn’t want to hear me going on about him when—’

‘When we haven’t got partners,’ Deb finished for me. ‘Well, you know what I think, and that is you should try counselling.’

‘I might just do that, but I’m going to try my own way first. Besides, a trip to a sex shop might be enlightening for all of us.’

‘OK, but no way am I going home with one of those monstrous rabbit vibrating things,’ said Lorna.

‘They have smaller ones,’ said Debs. ‘Come on, ladies, let’s go and check out what’s on offer.’

*

After coffees, we made our way into the pink and red interior of the sex shop, which was opposite the café. We browsed the displays and saw that there were vibrators in every colour and size in pink, black, silver, green, purple, gold, and they were made in small, medium and large, some with wiggly bits on the end. All offered slow, medium or powerful vibrations.

‘They’re enormous,’ I said as I looked at a huge purple plastic vibrator on display, complete with wrinkly balls. It looked like a candle that had burnt down and the wax gathered around the base. Not sexy.

‘Is this the sort of thing Matt is into?’ asked Lorna as we surveyed the variety of merchandise on sale.

‘We’ve never tried one, but it might be worth a try to get things going. The website I looked at this morning said that you have to get your partner to notice you as a sexual being.’

‘And you thought you might find something in here?’ asked Lorna. I could tell it wasn’t her sort of place.

‘Makes sense,’ said Debs. ‘Doesn’t have to be a vibrator, but you could get some sexy underwear, get out your high heels, show your cleavage …’

‘Oh I don’t know,’ said Lorna. ‘I don’t think you have to put on clothes you don’t normally wear to attract your partner. If he finds you sexy, you could be wearing an old shirt.’

‘That’s because you look sexy in an old shirt,’ I said. ‘The rest of us need a makeover.’

‘Just don’t overdo it,’ said Lorna. ‘Don’t be anyone you’re not.’

‘What, like a naughty nurse?’ I asked as I looked at the fancy-dress outfits on sale and flicked through the rail. ‘Hmm, what do you think? Dominatrix, police officer, school girl, cheerleader or sailor?’

‘None,’ said Lorna. ‘I think that if he had a fetish to see you dressed as a cheerleader, you’d have heard about it by now.’

‘Lorna, you’ve come over all headmistressy.’

‘It’s one of my personas,’ she said. ‘I have the complete outfit at home, along with a long list of detention punishments.’

‘It might be fun to do a bit of role play,’ I said. ‘We’ve never tried that, and I want to remind Matt that I have other sides to me as well as washer-upper, grocery shopper, laundry lady, social secretary and so on. There’s nothing vaguely sexual there, so I need to change that perception.’

‘Good for you,’ said Debs as she picked up a box. ‘Oh look, pink fur handcuffs.’

‘And here,’ said Lorna as she picked up another box. ‘Latex vaginas. Ew.’

‘Why ew?’ asked Debs. ‘If women use vibrators, I guess it’s only fair that men have something too.’

‘God, I don’t know where to start,’ I said as I looked at a set of tickling sticks. ‘And those ticklers look like the sort of thing I buy for Yoda at the pet store.’ As I continued looking, there were all sorts of things on sale that I’d never heard of – lubricants, fetish toys, prostate massagers.

‘Or the things Ken Dodd’s Diddy Men had,’ said Lorna. ‘They had tickling sticks.’

‘Perhaps they have a Diddy Man outfit on a rail in here,’ I said.

‘Yeah, and that’s bound to work on Matt,’ said Lorna. ‘Can you imagine?’

‘What about this?’ Debs asked and pointed to a box on the display. ‘A starter kit, maybe that’s what you need.’

‘What’s in it?’

Debs turned the box over and started to read. ‘A small vibrator, a tickler for new sensations, a solid dong for vaginal or anal play, a cock ring to keep him harder, jiggle balls for better orgasms, Thai beads and a butt plug for either him or her.’

I started to get the giggles. ‘Butt plug? I think Matt would run a mile if I got one of those out when I take him his bedtime drink. Butt plug to go with your cocoa, sir? And a solid dong? What the hell is that?’

‘I think it’s a type of vibrator,’ said Debs as she scrutinized the packaging.

‘Now I know what’s missing in my life. I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without one. Actually, it would make a great name for a band and their backing singers, Solid Dong and the Raspberry Lubes. We could be the lubes if we could sing.’

‘Which we can’t,’ said Debs.

Lorna was laughing as well; she picked up a box and handed it to me. ‘No, no, I think what’s been missing is an enlarging cock pump. You could get it out when you next have guests over for dinner to break the ice and get everyone talking.’

Debs picked up a pair of cat ears on a band and put them on. ‘What do you think?’

‘OK for a fancy-dress party, but how is wearing that supposed to turn a man on? I mean, honestly. Matt would laugh his head off if I appeared one night wearing that.’

Debs and Lorna started sniggering like schoolgirls, causing the young male assistant at the counter to glance over.

‘Behave or we’ll get thrown out,’ I said.

‘Great,’ said Lorna. ‘That would be one for the grandchildren – the day I got thrown out of the sex shop.’

‘Have you seen anything you might like to buy?’ asked Debs.

I shook my head. ‘Not really. Maybe we should go. Oh, but I like these,’ I said as I spotted a pair of diamanté handcuffs on the way out. ‘I could handcuff Matt to the bed then leave him there while I watch something I want on TV.’

I noticed that the shop assistant was coming over. ‘Can I help? Oh! Mrs Langham, is that you?’ he asked. I turned to see Mark Janson, a lad who had been in one of my English classes many moons ago when I was a teacher. He looked amused to see me. No doubt news of my shopping would be on social media and round my ex-pupils before you could say ‘cock ring’.

‘Have you seen anything you’d like to buy, or should I demonstrate?’ he asked with a smirk.

‘You’ll get a butt plug up your jacksie if you don’t stop smirking, Janson,’ I said, and he laughed but I felt I ought to buy something. ‘I … I’m looking for a present for a friend really. Maybe some raspberry lube. Tell you what, I’ll have a think about it and maybe come back later.’

Behind him, I could see that Debs and Lorna were still sniggering.

‘What is so funny about sex toys?’ I asked when we got outside and I cracked up laughing with them.

‘I don’t know,’ said Lorna. ‘Maybe we’re just so repressed and British that we have to laugh, but you have to admit, some of those things are funny.’

‘And some are scary looking. I don’t feel I’ve got very far in my mission to get something to seduce Matt.’

‘And those vibrators are missing something,’ said Debs. ‘They need vocals.’

‘Vocals?’ Lorna and I chorused.

‘Yes. Using a vibrator can be a lonely business. It’s only vocabulary is bzzz. They need an app that would talk dirty, or flatter, or whatever.’

‘Better still, one that gave directions,’ I said. ‘Men notoriously never ask for them. Imagine an app that works like a sat nav or google maps. Up a bit, go left, go left, left! No. Wrong hole, you idiot! Back up, back up. OK. Continue straight ahead now.’

Lorna laughed. ‘When Alistair was alive, he hated our sat nav. I don’t think he liked taking directions from a woman. But you could be on to something Debs. Sex should be fun.’

‘It should,’ said Debs. ‘Once Fabio brought a glow-in-the-dark condom back from a trip to Amsterdam; that was a laugh, especially if you turned all the lights off. But apps on the vibrators would be great – a running commentary to help things along.’

‘And one especially for the weary wife,’ I added. ‘Is it over yet? Fancy a cup of tea? Oo, the ceiling needs dusting. And they should do a singing one too. It could sing, I ain’t got no-o-body.’

‘Juvenile,’ said Lorna but she laughed. ‘I think you should forget about sex toys and apps for you and Matt and just buy a bottle of good wine, a scented candle and relax. All this stuff is too much like hard work and not really you at all, Cait.’

‘OK, good, in that case, can we go to M and S? I can buy the things you suggested, plus I need to get some support tights.’

*

At home later, I escaped to my study and opened my laptop to do rewrites on the ‘Fairy Freak-Out’.

I went to Facebook instead. Watched fascinating and essential clip about a cat who adopts a squirrel monkey. Three minutes. Very moving. Then another clip of a cat helping a puppy out of a ditch. Also very moving.

I spent half an hour looking at further seduction tips on various websites, and made a note to try them as soon as possible.

There was nothing from Tom. I felt disappointed. But then what was I expecting? I’d told him I needed time. I won’t think about him, I told myself. I’m married to Matt and going to make that work.

I googled sex toys and found a site that sold the same as the shop in town and more. Ow. Some of the prostate massagers looked like medieval torture implements. ‘The male G-spot is in the anus so these toys can help orgasm,’ I read. Well, I never knew that, I thought, and made a note to pass on my newfound information to Debs and Lorna. I’d enjoyed our time together today. Somehow my and Matt’s lack of sex life hadn’t seemed so much of a problem when having a laugh in the shop; more like a temporary hiccup that neither of them seemed overly concerned about.

I spent the next twenty minutes familiarizing myself with the Bondage for Beginners pages on the website. When I got to the electro- and medical fetish section and read about a G-spot intimate part spreader, I decided it might be time to call it a day.

‘Cup of tea, Cait?’ Matt called up the stairs.

‘Yes please. And make it quick or you will be beaten,’ my inner dominatrix called back.

‘Pardon? Didn’t catch the last bit.’

‘And see if there’s any cake that hasn’t been eaten,’ replied my inner wuss, who had shoved the dominatrix aside.

‘OK. Will do.’

The site did, however, have some lovely lingerie, and I ordered a lace chemise with a halterneck while Matt made us tea with not a clue that I was turning into a love beast who devoured websites selling nipple clips and leather restraints. No, no, not for us, I thought as I stopped at the Clean Stream douche kit which appeared to be … ‘It’s a hot-water bottle,’ I said to the screen. A bit further down were pictures of candles, but they were being sold as bondage candles. Someone, somewhere, was making a lot of money peddling ordinary household things in adult packaging.

‘Who were you talking to?’ asked Matt when he brought my tea.

‘Laptop,’ I said as I shut down the site. ‘Er, just checking out strap-on dildos.’

Matt laughed. ‘Right-oh,’ he said, and ruffled my hair as if I was a five year old. ‘And why would you want one of those?’

‘To wear on my forehead and pretend I am a Dalek in Doctor Who. Why do you think?’

Matt laughed again and went back down the stairs. Clearly he didn’t think I was serious. He was right. I’d done my research into sex toys. Nothing really appealed, and I realized it wasn’t anything like that I wanted. What I wanted was to be desired and to desire him, to feel close to Matt, and no way was a pair of cat’s ears and a vibrating monster dong going to do that.

Must do some writing work, I thought. Back to my story. Stared at blank page …

Ten minutes later: Still staring at a blank page.

Ping. Had an idea. Began to type. Fairy really does freak out. She goes on the rampage with a killer-driller vibrator and a splat gun that fires pineapple-flavoured lube. She ties up all the other characters with pink furry handcuffs, then sticks butt plugs up their noses and stuffs jiggle balls in their mouths. They can’t breathe. They can’t fly. There’s super silk lube everywhere. Soon they are dead. It’s a fairy freak-out. Fairy realizes with horror that she has lost her marbles so she turns the monster vibrator on herself. She dies with a smile on her face but, oh dear, with her death, it means that there are no more characters. No more story.

Hmm. Should I rewrite? My story is definitely not appropriate for kids. In fact, maybe I am not meant to be a writer after all.

Time for another look on Facebook to see if there are any new clips of animals that have been adopted or rescued in the last half-hour.

There was nothing interesting on Facebook but there was an email from Tom.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Dear Cait

Have made a list of what I have to offer.

I took a quick look. Oh my god, it was perfect. A high-ceilinged sitting room, with bleached wood floors and pale blue sofas, that opened onto a terrace looking out over a valley. Stunning. A huge bed in a white shuttered room with more views to die for.

I wrote back.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Dear Tom,

Please send a list of all your faults, medical complaints and any medication you are on.

Cait.

X

PS: I am not on any medication but think I may need some soon due to increasing sense of insanity.

‘I reckon that they’re ready to photograph,’ said Matt as we surveyed the finished spare rooms later that day. They’d both been transformed from scruffy boys’ bedrooms into light elegant spaces that I felt proud of. Sam’s old room was painted in dove grey and white and I’d found a pale silver silk bedspread that went perfectly. Jed’s room was painted in ivory and had a duck egg bedspread and curtains.

‘I agree,’ I said. ‘We just need to tidy up the bathrooms a bit, get some posh products in there, then hopefully we’ll have paying guests in the next few weeks.’

‘Excellent. Well done, Cait,’ said Matt from the doorway to Jed’s old room. ‘This was a good idea.’

‘And well done to you,’ I replied, and went to pass him while brushing myself up against him (seduction tip number 8 from the LoversLateinLife site). As I did so, he stepped back up against the doorframe to let me through, so I moved forward towards him again. He tried to move back further.

‘Christ, Cait. What are you trying to do? Squash me?’

I held him with my gaze, looking directly into his eyes (seduction tip number 9 from the SexatSixty site).

He looked alarmed. ‘What? Why are you looking at me like that? Have I done something?’

I tried to transmit sexual energy up and through my eyes, so continued to hold his gaze. He looked away and made a run for it down the stairs. ‘Sometimes you can be scary,’ he called back.

It appears that I haven’t got the hang of sizzling seduction yet. Maybe it can’t be forced. I thought back to when I’d seen Tom. He’d stared into my eyes directly and it had tugged deliciously, deep inside. I’d looked back at him. The magnetic pull had just been there, hadn’t had to be evoked or forced. Maybe the fire between Matt and me had simply gone, the passion petered out, the battery gone flat.

I went back to my study and opened a new file for book ideas. Closed it and went to Facebook and watched clip of Kenyan Karate Mammas. Three minutes. Fascinating.

*

‘Forward, back, jump, shout Zumba,’ cried my teacher later at the class in the local church hall. I got some Kenyan Karate Mamma moves in. The rest of the class were very impressed.