Page 81 of Always Alchemy

‘Have you any idea how many men in this room have looked at you two like you’re pieces of meat since you walked in?’

Amie’s eyes widen. Annabel chews the inside of her lip. ‘Gross. They’re all old.’

‘They’re not that old—thirties to fifties, I’d say. But a thirty-something finance guy is our typical avatar. It’s basically the same demographic. Now, imagine you’re in a club full of these guys, and you’re half naked, or more, and they’re coming onto you, or you’re watching them have sex with other people, multiple people, a lot of the time. How would you feel?’

I’m being deliberately provocative, of course, and I feel bad about it. It’s astonishing that Amie and Annabel are only a year or so younger than Belle and Maddy must have been when they discovered the delights of Alchemy.

The girls have met them in passing during our wedding festivities and our fortieth bash, but they don’t know them well. I make a mental noteneverto let Annabel talk to Maddy about Alchemy. Those two are far too similar. Although, arranging for Amie to have a quiet word with Belle may not be a bad call.

‘Completely violated,’ Amie says with a shudder. Annabel’s giving the room a further visual survey, lips pursed thoughtfully.

‘I dunno. Thirties, I can do. The last guy I fucked was?—’

I hold up my hand. ‘Thank you, I have no wish to know.’

Dear Lord above, give me strength. How did I ever allow my fuckboy mate Rafe to get his claws into poor little Belle when she was only twenty-two? I was dubious then, but it seems horrifying now, even if I stand by everything the Unfurl programme did and does stand for.

That said, if I remove my stepmother hat for a moment, I can appreciate that these two beautiful young women are fully grown, in the early years of what will hopefully be a long sexual prime, and deserving that I take them seriously and don’t patronise or gaslight them.

Obviously, where their father is concerned, it would be better if they never had sex at all.

Obviously, that ship has sailed.

And obviously, I can’t resist trying to prevent them from falling into the hole I found myself in before we founded Alchemy, which was years and years of ungratifying sex.

I don’t really want the girls to have sex, but I also don’t want them having bad sex, and I certainly don’t want them having dangerous or traumatic or non-consensual or intimidating sex, or even sex that leaves an ick. And I can’t deny that they’ve come to the right adult in their lives for help on all those fronts.

Bugger bugger bugger.

‘Tell us about the club,’ Annabel pleads. This kid is like a rubber duck. You really can’t keep her down. It’s the kind of borderline obnoxious resilience that will probably stand her very well in life. ‘We don’t know anything about it, and the website is fucking useless. No offence.’

I swallow a smile. She’s really something. I look at Amie. ‘Are you comfortable if I give you some broad brushstrokes?’

She nods politely. ‘Sure.’

‘Well, Alchemy’s supposed to represent various things. Convenience, discretion and room for exploration, mainly. To put it bluntly, the people who sign up are wealthy, time poor, and wanting to experiment.’

Annabel wiggles her eyebrows and shoots Amie a gleeful smile.

It is not returned.

This may be my professional milieu, but I’m feeling pretty damn uncomfortable speaking about this stuff to the twins. Not only have Anton and I always been open with his children about my profession, but we’ve celebrated it. I’m proud of being a businesswoman, and I’m proud of being someone on a journey to positively change sexual experiences, especially for women.

Even so, we’ve always talked in generalisations. Getting down and dirty about the kind of shit that happens at Alchemy every day of the week feels oddly confronting. I’m less worried that they’ll judge me than that I’ll freak them out, or they’ll see me in a new light—even Annabel. My instinct is that under all that bravado, her eyes may be bigger than her belly, sexually speaking, and I am absolutely going to kick the tyres on that front before I even consider an Alchemy membership for them.

‘A lot of the members use us for sex on tap,’ I continue. ‘Imagine you’re working long hours and you want to scratch an itch but you don’t want all the bullshit that comes with the dating game. It’s not a new concept, obviously, but Alchemy goes way, way further than the likes of Tinder to accommodate no-strings-attached sex as safely and enjoyably—and, I’d add, with as much atmosphere and fun factor—as possible.’

Amie’s sitting ramrod straight, taking my words in. Annabel rolls her hand in ahurry it alonggesture.

‘You’re talking without saying anything,’ she complains. ‘People go there to fuck. We get it. What’s so special about it, though? Pretend we’re clients you want to land. Give us the elevator pitch.’

Now I do laugh at her vile sense of entitlement. ‘You really are a horrible little snot-rag, aren’t you?’

‘Absolutely,’ they both agree cheerfully in unison.

I roll my eyes. ‘Fine.’

Here goes. I’ll give them the real Gen, not the politely bland, boundaried stepmother version. I put my elbows on the table and lean forward. ‘You want the unvarnished truth? Fine. They come for a lot of things, but mainly the calibre of the clientele and the quality of the fucking.

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