Page 107 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
‘I’d hazard a guess Jez happened. Do you think he ever hurt her?’
‘Hurt comes in many forms,’ mutters guru Danny, swaying slightly from the alcohol.
‘I don’t ever want it to be like that, you know? If you want to pork other women then just go for it. I don’t want us to hate each other,’ I tell Danny.
‘Pork? That’s feral, even for you.’
I feel Danny’s hand in mine.
‘So you’re saying, there’s an order to these things… If I get fed up of you then I need to just leave and then get porking?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can I have my daughters?’
‘Well, no. I’ll bloody wrestle you to the death for them. You could have the dog because he was your idea.’
We both stare at each other for a moment. Even talking hypothetically about splitting our family up feels weird. Even him taking the dog, of whom I’ve grown quite fond. But there’s something inside me which reckons I could never really, truly hate him.
‘If you cheated on me, it would break me,’ mentions Danny.
‘Like how? Man tears?’
‘Like break my heart.’
‘You must be drunk.’
‘Don’t ever do that, please.’
‘I’ll try…it’s hard though. You know how I’m just hitting them away with a shitty stick most days,’ I reply.
‘Veritable buffet.’
‘All-you-can-eat.’
‘If you ever ate cock.’ Oral sex, the sore point in any married couple’s sex résumé.
I elbow him. ‘Well, I can’t even focus. Check the expiry date on that cherry brandy because you can have anything you want tonight.’
He doesn’t quite believe me. ‘Can I have a BJ tonight then, please?’
I applaud the good manners and forward planning.
‘Well, I’m hammered. I’ll eat kebabs from the van at the train station when I’m drunk so yeah, why not?’
He looks reasonably excited. ‘Do you want anything special? I could dress up as something?’
‘You know that sheepskin rug in the front room, could you wear it and pretend to be Ned Stark fromGame of Thrones? Go all King in the North.’
‘Honestly?’
‘No.’
He smiles broadly. That smile that not many people get to see. He comes in to kiss me. I’d like to say it’s tender but he’s drunk and our tongues clash in the way moray eels might mate. I wipe a few multicoloured sprinkles from his stubble and he kisses my hands as it grazes over his chin. I love how we’re achieving such levels of intimacy in a school playground.
A voice suddenly makes us part. ‘There’s always two that lower the tone.’
It’s Stu. Of course, now complete with an elf hat that has mistletoe protruding from the front.
