I flex my fingers and position them over my keyboard. There are worse things that a woman could have to do with her time than fantasise about wanton, impassioned coitus.
I type the raunchiest word that I know onto the screen to get me started.
And then the phone rings and when I glance at the screen I see that it’s my mother. Of course it is. She’s always had the ability to interrupt any moments of illicit pleasure that I may be attempting to enjoy.
I could ignore her. I should ignore her.
I am incapable of ignoring her.
‘Hi, Mum,’ I say, lowering the lid of my laptop which I know is ridiculous but I just don’t feel comfortable talking to her with that word leaping off the screen. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Everything is fine, darling!’ she trills merrily. ‘I’ve just finished this week’s online learning session and it made me think about you. We need to have a quick chat.’
For fuck’s sake. This is literally the last thing that I need right now. Whatever she’s about to say is guaranteed to ruin my mood and dampen my vibe for the rest of the day.
‘I’m actually a bit busy, Mum,’ I start but I’m wasting my breath. Short of hanging up on her, there is nothing I can do to stop her when she wants to have a quick chat. Which is code for a lengthy monologue.
‘It’s about you and Nick,’ she says, plowing straight ahead. ‘I’m worried that you’re spending too much time on your phones and computers and devices and not enough time investing in your relationship as lovers.’
I close my eyes and start trying to count to ten. I don’t make it past two.
‘The Internet is killing sex,’ she states. ‘And you need to do something about it.’
Incredible. I’ll add it to the list of things that demand my attention.
‘The first thing you need to do is remove your mobile phones from the bedroom,’ she continues. ‘Hannah? Are you listening to me?’
‘I’m not having a conversation about this with you, Mother,’ I say firmly. ‘It’s just like last week, when you rang me up and tried to tell me that I need to do something about harmonising the domestic and sensual halves of myself, right when I was in the middle of trying to unblock the dishwasher filter. I am not your sex-counselling guinea pig, okay? Find someone else to trial this stuff on.’
There is silence at the other end of the line and I instantly feel bad.
‘But you’re probably right,’ I concede, grudgingly. ‘I’m sure it would be better for our health if we didn’t charge our phones next to the bed every night.’
‘Definitely better for your sexual health,’ agrees my mother, bouncing back. ‘That’s sorted then. Excellent!’
‘Marvellous,’ I mutter. ‘Thanks for calling.’
‘My pleasure,’ she chirrups. ‘Just shout if you want any more advice, Hannah. I’m always here to help. Now, sorry to cut you short, darling, but I must go. I was just heading out to the shops when you called.’
‘But Mum, you rang—’ I start, but the dialing tone buzzes back at me. I shake my head and hang up before lifting my laptop lid, but even the sexiest word isn’t enough to get me back in the zone so I delete it and try again. Binky said that I should push my characters further and take more chances. Her insinuation was that I need to loosen up which was a bit rude because I’ve always liked to think of myself as a very chilled out, laid-back yet also passionate kind of woman and any suggestion otherwise is a teeny bit insulting.
I’ll show her just how loose I can be. I shake my arms and shrug the tension out of my shoulders and then I start typing, really letting myself go. I dig as deep as I possibly can and type without thinking, which is another thing I read about in How to Write a Bestselling Novel. It’s called ‘Free Writing’ and the whole point is to write without fear of being judged or worrying about normal conventions. And the end result may be a little raw and in need of a polish but it will be real and honest and from the heart and that’s exactly what I’m after.
I write an entire paragraph and then pause, nervously reading what I’ve written back to myself. This is the moment of truth.
Bella Rose’s skin started to prickle. She had always been susceptible to blocked sweat glands, particularly under her breasts and on her upper thighs and most of the time a simple application of an antiperspirant usually did the trick. The best solution of all, of course, was to avoid any activity that would result in her perspiring but right here, with Daxx standing in front of her with such unbridled passion and lust in his eyes that it made her knees tremble, Bella Rose was prepared to throw all caution aside. This was a man she would gladly perspire for. Heck, just the sight of him unbuttoning his shirt made her damp.
The end result is…a little shit.
It’s not even sexy by my (apparently) low standards, despite the mention of both thighs and breasts. No wonder my own mother seems to think that I need marriage guidance. If I can’t even write about this stuff then what chance do I have of spicing up my own love life?
I need help.
Chapter Six
I am sitting in the empty staffroom, attempting to find the energy and inclination to mark Year Ten, Class C’s English homework when Cassie finds me.
‘You’ve got a face like a slapped kipper,’ she says, flopping down into the seat opposite me. ‘Why so glum? Is it because Scarlet has got the entire Sixth Form petitioning to go on strike if the canteen doesn’t start serving bacon and brie panini? Because I have to tell you, Hannah, a lot of the teaching staff are very onboard with the whole thing.’
I drop my pen and rest my chin on my hands.
‘It’s not that,’ I tell her. ‘I knew nothing about that but I’m ecstatic that my daughter is putting her Head Girl powers to good use since her appointment to the position, all of two days ago.’
‘So what is it then?’
‘Nothing is right.’ I exhale loudly. ‘I feel like I spend my entire time working as hard as I can and getting absolutely nowhere.’
Cassie nods sympathetically. ‘I get it. This job is getting more thankless by the day. Do you know, Miriam told me last week that she’s taken away the budget for the Chemistry department but that is in no way an excuse for anyone to make less progress? Seriously! How am I supposed to teach about chemical reactions without any buggering chemicals?’
I gaze out of the window. ‘It’s not just this place. It’s everything.’
‘Like what?’
I sigh. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Life.’
Cassie snorts. ‘You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that, Hannah. Honestly – what’s pissing you off?’
I turn back to look at her, shrugging my shoulders.
‘I can’t be more specific because I don’t know. Everything just feels wrong.’ I shake my head in despair. ‘I feel like I spend every day trying to run up the down escalator and it’s knackering and pointless and I’ve had enough.’
Cassie raises an exquisitely shaped eyebrow and I feel something snap inside.
‘And that’s another thing. Surely by now, after forty-four years on this planet, I should be able to find some time and money for myself? I should be able to get my eyebrows waxed or have a relaxing massage if I want to, shouldn’t I?’