Page 101 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
‘Remember, we don’t want this to read like a promotional piece to increase sales or web traffic. It’s got to read as sincere, capture the fact he’s a normal person who’s not out for fame or gain.’ Tim nods. ‘And when you’ve subbed to the Wezzie, I want a read and I’ll then give you some names.’
‘Names?’
‘The idea is that we control how this is put to the public and I still have some contacts down South that you can use in some of the magazines.’
His eyes light up at the prospect of this being bigger, at least for him. I glance over at Stu to remind him why he’s here. All our plans have been formulated over the kitchen table, late at night, and we realised now was the time to try and pick those over-educated brains of his.
‘I’ve researched the legal aspect.’ He leans over his breakfast clumsily to point out some disclaimers at the back of my research. ‘Just some words for you to peruse to ensure we keep Danny’s name out of this.’ I expected a bit more lawyerly weight here – the thumbs-up doesn’t help, neither do the slight grumbles of indigestion from his stomach. He gives Polly a piece of toast that’s dipped in brown sauce.
‘Wait, I saw those letters from the magazines and publicists. He doesn’t want to capitalise on that?’
‘His choice.’
Tim stops for a moment, remembering that just mere minutes ago we’d agreed we were still friends.
‘How are you with this? This has so much potential for you, your family.’
‘Seriously, it’s his choice. His work. His call.’
He knows I’m not totally convinced by my own argument. ‘You know this all happened, quite by accident. We have no idea what to do or how to work this out. This is a first step but after that we are clueless.’ I try to laugh it off but this is the plan so far. We protect Danny’s identity, we put out our version of events. People will then get bored and move on to different things like the outcomes of sporting events andLove Island. Tim’s still taking notes.
‘Again, this doesn’t go in the article.’
He touches his nose and nods. ‘Then I’m sorry that I assumed you were going all journo bitch on me and stealing headlines. I should have thought outside the box.’
‘No big deal. I’m sorry I let this simmer and made you think that. We good?’
‘Yeah. I might start making you tea again…’
‘I can live with that. Stu is leaving soon. Come and hang out with us.’
Stu nods. ‘And you? How’s tricks?’
‘You make me sound like a rent boy. There’s a new fella but I don’t think it’s got legs. He doesn’t use full stops.’
I knew I liked this kid. I smile but Tim can see beyond the chat. Unlike Stu who’s downing his tea like water, Tim watches as I rub my brow, trying to process a million and one things at once. I remember a time when all I had to think about was whether I’d laundered the school cardigans or signed all the right school forms. Now, I worry about whether my husband will be exposed as an erotic artiste and my family made out to be pornmongers. Is that a word? It should be.
‘Are you really OK?’
It’s the first time anyone’s asked me that since this started. Stu found everything hysterical, Emma thought it non-consequential, Rowan was her usual breezy self. When you have to hold on to secrets, it can cause anxiety, questions and I still have very few answers. I know it’s ignited a spark with my husband. I know it’s expanded my knowledge of all things sex. I know it makes me wonder how my husband’s brain operates. Stu sits there quietly. She’s fine, no?
‘I’m getting there. I don’t think he’s a pervert which is a start. And I guess it’s more exciting than if he was drawing trees or landscapes. But I’m OK too. Our love is more than a few well-conceived dick pics.’
He smiles. ‘They are very good pictures though. The talent is surprising.’
‘Right? He could have a flair for all number of things but my husband seems to be apt at sketching a johnson.’
‘And muff,’ Stu adds, laughing.
‘So how did you find out? You saw him sketching a sex toy?’
‘About the Captain? No, it was a dildo in the post.’
‘That would be a great name for his first single. You could diversify here, the possibilities are endless.’
‘Stu plays drums too.’
Stu’s nostrils flare in horror. I smile to think of Danny in Spandex and leather. The chafing would kill him, the singing would hurt people. Tim studies me. I think he’s waiting for the catch.
