Читать книгу Freya North 3-Book Collection: Love Rules, Home Truths, Pillow Talk - Freya North - Страница 33

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It’s peculiar – I almost feel like writing an anonymous piece for Adam on the merits of infidelity. I want to evangelize the effect that a one-night stand has had on my life. I want to stand up and defend what our society denounces as morally reprehensible. It’s not. I was miserable before – doubting the point of marriage, questioning my choice of husband, negative about my lot, pessimistic about my future. And it all came down to sex! Just sex. That instinctive, carnal interchange. Simple sex – that’s all. I’m sure of it. One dose of pure sex and I’m cured! Now I’m happy with my husband, my energy and optimism have returned at both work and play and best of all, I feel happier and more centred in myself than I have done for months.

When Alice felt buoyant, everyone in contact with her was dusted with her jauntiness and vigour. Her team produced work worthy of awards and Mark reaped the benefits of his wife’s excellent mood. She was spirited yet affectionate, effervescent but considerate. She didn’t glower when he said he’d have to go to Singapore and Tokyo the following week, instead she came home with potions and tonics from the naturopath to alleviate all primary and secondary symptoms of jet lag. Their lovemaking was back up to twice a week and Mark noted with some pride how she wanted to prolong each session, how her eyes were closed throughout as if in utter appreciation of their coupling.

It lasted a week. Then the first text message arrived. And by replying to it (initially she justified it would be impolite not to at least answer, but if she was honest, she fired back her reply in anticipation of another response) Alice somersaulted down into the murky depths of secrecy, lies and betrayal.

‘Is that your phone?’ Mark said, while ripping something out of the Financial Times and tucking it in his suit jacket. ‘Bloody hell, it’s almost midnight – who’s texting you at this time as if I couldn’t guess?’

‘It’s just Thea – fretting about her house sale and stuff,’ said Alice, not knowing quite how she was controlling herself, having seen that the number was overseas. ‘I’d better reply – I know how stressful the process is.’

‘Why don’t you just ring her? Your thumb will get RSI!’

‘Saul’s probably asleep – that’ll be why she’s texting,’ Alice said with a mock yawn. ‘I’ll go and have a bath and reply.’

‘Tell her we thoroughly recommend our conveyancing lawyer.’

‘I’ll do just that.’

With enormous restraint, Alice resisted running to the bathroom, sauntering away instead with credible nonchalance. As the bath ran, she sat on the edge of the tub and read the message, her stomach flipping with a swarm of manic butterflies, her heart galloping in her throat.

it’s late. lying here thinking of u and ur wet pussy. PB x

Alice wanted to squeal and squeak and run around whooping ‘It’s from Paul, it’s from Paul!’ What should she say? How should she reply? Should she reply? Or ignore? Should she text Thea and send her four or five possible responses to choose from? Shit – the bath is almost overflowing.

Alice sat in the bath and read Paul’s message over and over. Giggling, her thumb set to work.

pussy wet thnkng of u

Did she dare? Did she dare say that? Did she dare send it?

She did.

Come on, come on – reply, damn you!

Come

on!

Replyreplyreply.

Yes!

rock hard – where r u?

She gave a joyous shriek.

‘Alice?’ Mark called through the door. ‘Are you OK?’

‘What? I’m fine – I’m fine. It’s just Thea being daft.’

in bath – v soapy

She waited a decorous few minutes before sending it.

‘Alice?’

Oh for fuck’s sake, Mark – what?

‘Yes?’

‘I wouldn’t mind coming in and doing my teeth and stuff.’

Shit, the next message had just buzzed through and she was desperate to read it.

‘But the door’s locked,’ Mark continued.

‘God, can’t I have a bath in peace,’ Alice protested. ‘Look, I’ll be out in two minutes – all right?’

She heard Mark pad away. She felt relieved rather than guilty. She looked at her phone.

u horny bitch

Paul was right. She was. She was horny. Very excited and extremely horny. Just then she was horny enough not to care that she was a bitch.

Five pence was the cost of it. It occurred to Alice that a 5p text message had bought her an affair. But she didn’t stop to think that it might be at the price of her marriage. It was just harmless texting, after all. Virtual sex. Not real. No one need know.

But it wasn’t long before Alice was living from text message to text message, becoming decidedly fractious in between. Her moods, a pendulum swinging erratically between high spirits and furtive anticipation; her spiky frustration affecting everyone in spitting distance. She could be impatient and surly at work and short-tempered and snappish with Mark, or inspiring and energetic with her team and affectionate and vivacious at home. It all depended on whether she was owed a text from Paul or not. No one around her could figure out what the problem was and whether or not it lay with them. Because they did not know where they stood, so they tiptoed around her and tried their best to please her.

Thea was dismayed when Alice handed over her mobile and told her to scroll through. ‘You said it was just a one-night stand.’

‘It was,’ Alice frowned, snatching back her phone and gazing at the screen as if a photo was lodged there. ‘God, stop taking everything so seriously, Thea,’ she said, ‘they’re just silly, sexy, harmless texts – but Christ they make my day.’

Once more, Thea felt compromised between her own personal morality and Alice’s infectious energy.

‘They must be costing you a fortune,’ Thea remarked.

‘I’ve started buying those text bundles the phone companies market at teenagers!’ Alice exclaimed, her face one lascivious expansive grin.

‘Let me see that last one again,’ Thea requested because she felt it was expected of her. Though she didn’t want to encourage Alice, she knew her duty as the adulteress’s best friend was not to alienate her either.

And when Mark flew off to Singapore and Tokyo on business, then the phone sex began. In the house alone, with no intention of asking Thea’s approval, permission or advice, Alice phoned Paul. And the outright dirtiness of the text messaging was replaced with naughty giggles and coy referencing and then, surprisingly, five minutes of chit-chat. On a nightly basis.

‘He’s just a friend,’ Alice justified to Thea, having thrust her mobile phone at her friend’s ear so she could hear his voice. ‘We’re just mates.’

‘“Mate” being the operative word,’ Thea couldn’t resist saying. ‘You fucked, remember.’

Alice physically swiped the air dismissively. ‘He lives in Fucksville France!’ Alice breezed, as if Thea’s insinuation was ludicrous.

u awake? can u spk? u alone?

Yes, Alice was awake but no she couldn’t speak because Mark and she were just about to sit down to supper.

‘I’m just going to the loo,’ Alice told Mark, surreptitiously slipping her phone into her back pocket. ‘Can you stir the sauce and switch the rice off in a couple of minutes?’

‘Wine? White?’ Mark asked, starting the interminable search for the sodding corkscrew.

Alice locks the toilet door.

not alone – hows u, big boy?

coming the reply announces.

Alice laughs as she sends her reply: u dirty boy – u’ll go blind!

coming over he sends back.

Before Alice has the chance to absorb the information let alone formulate a response, a barrage of messages arrives on her phone.

to london

next tues

3 nights

get ready, baby – gonna make u sore

Oh

My

God

Sitting on the closed toilet seat, Alice is utterly stuck for text words.

She switches off her phone without replying and leaves it on top of the cistern in irrational fear of Paul suddenly materializing from it like a genie from the lamp.

Oh

My

God