No-One Ever Has Sex On A Tuesday: A Very Funny Romantic Novel (5 page)

BOOK: No-One Ever Has Sex On A Tuesday: A Very Funny Romantic Novel
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He looked at Katy, whose anger still seemed to be directed at him despite the distraction Robert’s comments might have caused. What should he do? Eventually he realised he had no choice and did the only thing his fuzzled state of mind thought appropriate. He twatted the total idiot he hated from school.

“Stop it Matthew, stop it now,” was the next thing Matthew heard as he gasped for air once he had got Robert pinned to the floor following an impressive right hook to his chin.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Katy shouted a couple of inches from his face. All he could think was how much he wanted to kiss those bright red lips just as he felt two sets of arms yank him up and away from a now simpering Robert.

“That’s enough now lad,” said Mr. Gelding, who had been Matthew’s form teacher at some point. He looked about fifty then and he still looked fifty now.

“You’re not at school now you know,” he said with a twinkle in his eye and smile at the corner of his mouth. No doubt he hadn’t liked Robert either.

“I think you’d better take him home love, go on before Robert insists that he’s thrown out.” He smiled at Katy and wandered away.

It was then that Matthew realised his hand felt like an elephant had stamped on it.

“Fuck me,” he cried as he doubled up and cradled it. “For a fat lad that Robert must have a jawbone made of steel.”

Katy looked him up and down and then nodded as if she had just decided something important. She stood up straight and said, “Right then, let’s get you out of here and sort that hand out.”

She reached out and grabbed his injured hand, and squeezed it as hard as she possibly could whilst pulling him across the hall. He was shouting in agony the whole way to the door but there was no way she was letting go or acknowledging the fact that she was hurting him, in fact the louder he shouted the harder she seemed to squeeze.

As soon as they got into the relative quiet of the corridor outside the hall she dropped his hand like a stone and turned to face him.

“Do you know what that was for?” she said glaring at him in a way that made it clear a random guess would not be welcome. He remained quiet, not daring to speak.

“That was for being a complete and utter arsehole, and a shit and every single bad name I could ever think of,” she shouted in his face. Then she gripped both his shoulders and kneed him swiftly in the groin. “And now we will never speak of it again. Is that clear?” she demanded.

“OK,” he whispered, the pain making his eyes water.

“Now let me have a look at that hand,” she said, thrusting her own hand out. Matthew whimpered slightly and took a step back.

“Are you mad? After what you just did?” he gasped.

“Necessary, Matthew, necessary,” she said. “Now come on, I won’t inflict any further damage, I promise, and I am the first aider for my floor at work. I got the best score in the theory test if you must know.”

“My, you have come a long way,” he said relieved to see her smile faintly as he gingerly raised his hand.

“I think it’s a pea job. Big bag of peas to reduce the swelling and it will be fine.”

“Marvellous. Know any good pea shops open at midnight?” he asked.

“Well as long as you think your wife won’t mind, I think I have a bag of petit pois that could do the job at my flat, and you can call a cab from there.”

“How’d you know I was married?”

“Gold ring on your left hand is a bit of a giveaway, Matthew.”

“Oh yeah. What about you then,” he said looking at her left hand.

“No, not married. You see I had a very bad experience with a man when I was young and became a lesbian; you’ll meet Lisa and Rachel when we get back to the flat. We are currently doing a three-way.”

“Shit, no, you are kidding me right?” said Matthew, his eyes as big as saucers.

“Yeah you’re right, in my dreams a three-way. No, it’s just Lisa.”

“I see,” said Matthew, unable to think of an appropriate answer.

She threw her head back and laughed.

“Your face,” she said eventually. “Actually I’m not a lesbian and the reason I know that is because I have a boyfriend called Ben who is a PE teacher, as fit as they come, with thighs to die for and eight years younger than me,” she said with a hint of triumph that said, that showed you, you two-timing wanker.

“Right, maybe I’d better go back to my hotel then. Don’t want to get punched by some rugby maniac.”

“No, don’t worry, he’s away at a stag-do and he wouldn’t mind anyway, he’s very laid back.”

“OK then Miss Chapman; take me to your pea stash.”

Chapter 5

Three hours later the bag of peas were luke warm but still draped over Matthew’s knuckles, albeit very limply. They had pretty much filled each other in on their lives since they last saw each other. Much careful editing had occurred to start with, but they got more and more honest as they plunged headlong into their third bottle of wine.

Katy had of course left out the devastation Matthew’s drunken shag left behind, preferring to hammer home her raft of men since then. Matthew, grateful not to dwell on the period after his indiscretion focused on how he had finally found himself a career and settled down after a few years of jobbing around. He mentioned Alison but found he didn’t really want to talk about her too much, particularly given their conversations that day.

Only when they had clearly displayed to each other that they were totally secure and in control of their current lives, and when they were really quite drunk, did it feel safe to reminisce.

They found themselves crying with laughter at some of the things they had got up to. It felt very much like a guilty pleasure, both of them knowing that they shouldn’t really be talking about their previously shared intimate life.

“Do you remember that time when your mum and dad went away for the weekend and we thought we had the house to ourselves,” began Katy. “We were upstairs in your room, music blaring, snogging away, when we suddenly heard someone shout from downstairs.”

“It was my neighbour wasn’t it?” said Matthew covering his eyes in embarrassment. “Weren’t we half naked so we squeezed under the bed just as she came into the room and turned off the music? Then the nosy old bat started looking through my drawers, do you remember? We were both ready to explode. God knows what she thought she was doing; she was only supposed to be watering the plants.”

“You were convinced after that she always looked at you a bit strange after having scrutinized your boxers at close range,” giggled Katy.

“Yeah, I decided she was a complete perv and stopped mum hanging them on the washing line.”

“Your undies weren’t fit for public display anyway. Weren’t you still letting your mum buy them?” said Katy with a wicked gleam in her eye.

“No I was not,” exclaimed an offended Matthew until he spotted the evil smirk on her face. “Stop winding me up,” he said, embarrassed that she had got him on the defensive so easily.

“You know me, there’s no way I would give you too much of an easy ride,” she said, looking away quickly.

Yes he did know her, he thought. That was the totally weird thing. It felt like the last eighteen years had never happened. He was talking to her like he spoke to her every day. However what was starting to cut into him was the realisation that actually he hadn’t spoken to anyone like this for a while. Just chatting, just having a laugh, just totally and utterly relaxed, not really worrying about anything. Since he had decided to focus on his career a lot of his free time had been taken up with study and he had lost touch with a lot of his mates, who had eventually got bored with him apologetically turning them down for a night out. They had also moved north of the river because Alison preferred it there, making it a long old slog to his old stomping ground in Southwark. And then when they had started to struggle to conceive, Alison’s pain had engulfed them both, weighing them down until the ability to enjoy themselves felt like a dim and distant memory.

Being here with Katy somehow took him back to carefree days and awoke part of him that had been dormant for some time. Boy did it feel good. A bit like when they brought back Dr Who and he wondered how he had coped without it for all those years.

And as for Katy, Christ she could still talk crap but it was like fresh air compared to his conversations recently with Alison, which were drenched in misery.

He would go to the loo and then leave he suddenly decided, the thought of Alison making him feel guilty. He knew she would not be pleased at the sight of him roaring with laughter with an old flame.

“Back in a sec, then I’d better go,” he said.

He staggered to the bathroom for about the fourth time since he had arrived. He looked across again at Katy’s oversized bath lined with a whole host of perfumes, potions and candles in a variety of elaborate glass holders. He couldn’t help but picture Katy in there, eyes closed and a smile on her face, relaxed and happy, maybe a hint of breast peeping up over the bubbles. He tried to wipe the image from his mind as he washed his hands and strengthened his resolve to head back to the hotel.

But then some kind of fate struck as the iPod started to play
Going Underground
, their favourite song on the
Now That’s What I call Katy and Matthew’s Music
tape. Granted the Shuffle mode in his experience often seemed to have some kind of inner knowledge that could play the right track at the right time but this was a bit freaky. Matthew half suspected Katy had programmed it while he had been out of the room, despite the fact she was sitting exactly as he had left her.

At the sound of the first couple of familiar bars Katy leapt in the air. “Come on, just dance to this and then go,” she cried, already jumping dangerously close to her mock chandelier dangling from the ceiling.

He laughed and let go, trying to savour the feeling of being just a bit crazy. Katy was laughing hysterically as she grabbed his hands and they jumped together, getting themselves into a “who could go higher?” competition. As the song ended they crashed heavily onto the sofa, their faces for the first time only a few centimetres apart. She had the biggest smile on her face, which made him just want to consume her and her joy in the hope that it would rub off on him.

And so he started to devour this surprise joy. Suck its face off in fact. They snogged like they were teenagers, mouths wide open, constantly revolving around each other’s faces like a well-oiled machine, tongues sliding in and out of each other’s mouths, over teeth and lips. And then the hands, unable to stay still, jittered all over each other, first in the hair, then up and down each other’s arms, then around the back and then tentatively up and down each other’s legs, each time edging higher and higher, wordlessly playing dare with each other.

For some time that was enough, to wildly explore each other’s bodies. Finally Matthew could bear it no longer and began to desperately fumble at the buttons down the front of her shirt until he was able to push it over her shoulders revealing a small cupid tattoo. It made him smile and he looked up to see Katy smiling right back at him. They both stared at each other panting slightly, the magnitude of the moment fizzing between them like an electric current. Then for the second time that night Katy made a decision to steer the course of the evening. She launched at him but this time her hands dived straight to the heart of the matter.

“Katy,” he gasped, somewhat shocked that Katy would do such a thing.

Then he closed his eyes, all thoughts banished from his brain until she stopped suddenly and pulled him down onto the floor beside her, making it clear that mutual pleasure was now required.

At first when he opened his eyes the next morning, he felt like nothing was amiss as he gazed at Katy, hair strewn over the pillow. Then the last eighteen years suddenly flashed before his eyes and he remembered he had not actually lived happily ever after with Katy, but had lived another life entirely. A life that meant he had a wife who was not the woman lying next to him, post-coital in bed.

He leapt out of bed and hunted wildly for his clothes, cursing under his breath. What the fuck had he done? This was a disaster. He was a man with a career and a wife who he was trying to have a baby with. What the hell happened?

After he had made himself decent, he contemplated whether he should just leave. But he couldn’t do it. He had been a shit all those years ago so the very least he could do was face the music this time.

He gently nudged her shoulder and said her name.

She opened her eyes wide straight away.

“So you thought you would have the decency to say goodbye then,” she said, obviously having woken earlier and heard him making moves to leave.

“Look Katy, I can’t believe I’ve done this. I really should burn in hell after everything I’ve put you through in the past. But I have to go. I have a wife. I’m so sorry; I shouldn’t have come back here. I was drunk, it shouldn’t have happened.”

“Christ not the “I was drunk” line again. You really need to think of something more original,” Katy retorted.

“I know. I just don’t know what to say. I feel terrible.” He looked away, petrified he was going to see the same look on the face of the girl he had betrayed all those years ago.

“Look Matthew, we’re not teenagers anymore,” she said, as if reading his mind. “You really don’t deserve this but don’t sweat it. To be honest watching you feel so guilty somehow gives me a sense of closure on the whole matter. So go home to your wife and forget the whole thing.” She smiled at him as if she really meant it.

He wanted to tell her that he still regretted that day, that he still thought about it more often than he should, but he realised his time was up.

“Well I guess this is really goodbye then,” he finally managed to say.

He looked down at her still lying on the bed and took in every detail of the way she looked, committing it to memory. He found, to his dismay, that the thought of never seeing her again was terrifying. Lying there she looked so right. It felt good for him to look at her in a bed they had had sex in the night before, not wrong, and not bad. What had he done? He had to get out now, before he looked at her anymore and decided he couldn’t leave.

BOOK: No-One Ever Has Sex On A Tuesday: A Very Funny Romantic Novel
3.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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