7 Years Bad Sex (18 page)

He followed her sedately, relishing the very sight of her. Her right hand was loosely trailing along the railings separating the promenade from the beach. The breeze was playing with her hair, picking up the occasional strand and blowing it about in curling tendrils like drifts of smoke. He urgently wanted to reach out and touch it.

She was wearing a dress and heels. With a pang, he noted that he hadn’t seen her in a dress since the wedding. She had made an effort, and he was jealous.

Silly man
, he admonished himself.
You’re in your best pulling clothes too. Get a grip.

Casey slowed up ahead of him, and he matched her speed. She turned toward the sea and leaned on the railing. The pose was classic and alluring, and Alex noticed that Casey was drawing attention from passers-by.
Male
passers-by. Suddenly driven by the desire to reassert his claim over his woman, he increased his step and stood beside her.

‘Hi,’ she said without turning her head. ‘I thought that was you.’

‘Hi.’ He turned to the sea and matched her pose, ensuring that their arms and shoulders touched. Really, he longed to wrap her in an embrace, but he got the feeling that it was too soon. Casey would have questions—
a
question—that needed to be addressed before they could get close.

‘How was your evening?’ She was still looking out to sea.

‘Fine. Didn’t quite go as expected, but good. You?’

They were dancing around the issue at hand when all he wanted to do was shout,
I love you
.

‘About the same, actually.’ She laughed. That had to be a good sign.

‘Where did you go?’ Alex decided to take conversational charge.

‘Me?’ More laughter. ‘I was hungry, so I went to a restaurant. Peter’s Place, it was called.’

‘Nice?’

‘Oh yes, very nice.’ There was a teasing note in Casey’s voice that he couldn’t quite interpret.

‘Good food, then?’
As if that was of any importance
.

‘Very good food. Good company, too.’ Casey turned towards him at last and grinned; it was a wide, excited smile. ‘The place was
rammed
with handsome men. Gorgeous. Delicious.’

Alex’s heart sank again. Maybe she
had
been fast.

‘Was it?’ he mumbled.

‘It was. And guess what?’ Casey looked at him intently, and even in the half light of dusk he could tell her eyes were brimming with something. Afterglow? Mirth?

‘What?’ he asked obediently, if reluctantly.

Casey chuckled. ‘They were all gay.’

‘What?’

‘Yup.’ She gave him a hug and nestled her head against his shoulder. ‘I’m really sorry, but I couldn’t do it. I—I simply couldn’t. So I went to a gay bar and had a meal.’

Alex thought he would explode with joy. ‘You went to a gay bar?’ he repeated slowly, still computing the implications. ‘Full of gay men?’

‘Absolutely. I spent the evening chatting with a very nice couple. Rodge and James. Definitely gay.’

‘Wow.’
Hooray!

‘How about you?’ Casey searched his eyes.

‘Me. Ah, I’ve a confession to make.’ He swallowed. ‘I couldn’t go through with it either.’

‘You couldn’t?’

‘No. I went to a bar, and I picked up a stunner of a girl—Shelley, her name was—but I couldn’t go through with it. I kept seeing you instead of her, and I realised something.’ He paused.

‘What? What did you realise?’ Casey prompted eagerly when he didn’t continue.

‘Casey.’ Alex drew back so that he could look at his wife properly. ‘Casey, I love you. I love you too much to go for a stranger, even though I’m horny and desperate as hell. So I’m really sorry, but we’re still no wiser.’

Casey reached up and kissed him on the mouth, fiercely and with passion.

‘We are, though,’ she whispered in between breaths. ‘Wiser, I mean. We know for certain that we definitely and unconditionally love each other.’

‘That’s true,’ Alex conceded happily.

‘As for the horny and desperate-as-hell bit…’

‘Yeah?’

‘There’s always DIY.’

Alex sighed. ‘True. Very true. But we’ve been there. It’s not quite the same, is it?’

Casey regarded him gravely. It was now almost dark, and Alex struggled to read her face. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. Her shoulders went up and down in a shrug, and she disentangled herself from his embrace to rub her arms.

‘Are you cold? Shall we go back to the hotel?’

Casey continued rubbing for another moment. ‘No, it’s not quite the same,’ she finally said, continuing the conversation like he hadn’t commented on her shivering. ‘But it’s all we’ve got for now, and I really strongly suggest we allow ourselves to—to indulge until we can figure something else out.’

She stopped rubbing her arms and leaned into him once more. ‘You know, indulge without guilt or questions, give ourselves some breathing space until—I don’t know. Until the next idea for salvation strikes us.’

Alex shrugged. If that was what she wanted, that was fine by him. ‘Okay. The only thing that worries me is that we seem to be going round and round. You know—trial, denial, DIY. Reassuring each other that we love each other and that things will be fine when we have no idea
how
.’

Casey sighed. ‘I know. It’s like groundhog day. Or a rollercoaster. Up, and down, and up again. But we’ll simply have to ride it for a while longer and
make do
for the time being.’

Night had fallen completely by then, and the sea had disappeared from view. Casey shivered some more, and this time Alex hugged her close, wrapping his leather jacket around the both of them for warmth. He desperately wanted a drink, but he wasn’t sure whether Casey was done talking yet. It was good that they were talking, of course—all these things needed to be said—but it would be so much nicer to talk in a warm, light place, maybe with a glass of wine or a pint of beer in front of them.

‘We’ll make do,’ he agreed. ‘For as long as it takes. Without any guilt.’

‘And maybe we need help.’ The suggestion came as a barely audible whisper.

Help?
Alex wanted to ask.
What kind of help? We’ve already had chemical help. We’ve tried the toys. What other help could you possibly be thinking of?

But he said none of those things. Instead, he heard himself agreeing. ‘Maybe we’ll need help. Maybe we’ll seek help when the right moment strikes. For now, though, shall we go back to the hotel?’

He desperately wanted to be inside with a drink.

Casey dragged her heels. ‘But you promise me we’ll talk? We’ll be open from now on? And guilt free, whatever it takes? And maybe seek help?’

‘That’s a lot of promises,’ Alex said. ‘But yes, I promise all of the above.’

‘Really truly?’

‘Really truly. But now can we please get a drink?’

‘All right.’

Casey took his hand, and together they crossed the road towards their hotel. Somehow, Alex got the feeling he had crossed more than just the road. He had the impression that Casey had manoeuvred him through his own personal Rubicon moment—the point of no return—only he couldn’t fathom how, or what it meant.

Chapter Eleven:

 

Taking Counsel (Maybe)

 

~Casey~

 

‘There is an upside to the complete lack of sex in my life,’ Casey muttered under her breath while she was stripping the beds. ‘The sheets last longer.’

She shook out the duvet covers and pillow cases and threw them into a neat pile under the window, ready to be taken to the washing machine later. Picking her favourite linens out of the cupboard, she began remaking the bed. Her mind freewheeled and pondered the mysteries of life.

Since their quick talk on the Brighton promenade after their mutually failed one-night stands, she and Alex hadn’t talked about their situation again. Once more, it had become the elephant in the room. The DIY strategy was working out for her, and she assumed it kept Alex sane too, but they never discussed it—even though they had sworn they would be open with each other.

In fact, they never discussed much of anything at the moment. Naturally they went through the motions of cooking and keeping house together. They exchanged small talk on the matter of who would do the shopping and what would need to be bought. They conversed with each other in front of the band. But they never really
talked
to each other about anything of consequence. At the end of the day, when there were no further distractions to be had, they sat on their separate sofas, watching telly rather than facing their demons.

‘Demons,’ Casey snorted out loud. ‘Now there’s a concept that goes with curses. “Curses and demons.” Could be the title of a novel.’

She blew out a breath and let her body sag onto the bed. This wasn’t how she had imagined her life with Alex. The sex thing—the
lack-of-sex
thing—was taking on far bigger proportions than she had ever thought possible. They had become uncomfortable around each other. They didn’t like touching each other, and any kind of affection had vanished from their once demonstrative relationship. In bed, they lay as far apart as the mattress would allow. This wasn’t normal. And it certainly wasn’t healthy.

Casey picked up a pillow and hugged it tightly. ‘We’re falling apart,’ she informed it casually. ‘It’s like we’re rotting from the inside, and I can’t stop it. Worse still, now we’re totally ignoring what’s going on. One day, the whole house of cards will simply collapse, and what then?’

The pillow had no answers.

‘What shall I do?’ Casey persisted. ‘I have to do something!’

She thought of James’s card nestling in her handbag. In fact, she had been thinking about James’s suggestion a lot in recent days. But she hadn’t worked up the courage to mention it to Alex. Besides, she didn’t think Alex was ready to embrace the idea of seeing a sex therapist. Perhaps she should take the plunge and see James on her own. It might be a start.

‘Or you could go and get some relationship counselling,’ Sasha suggested tentatively, after Casey relayed her woes to her over coffee later that afternoon. ‘At least it’s a bit less scary than sex therapy.’

‘Maybe so,’ Casey agreed. ‘But I can’t see Alex trudging off to a counsellor with me.’

‘Hm.’ Sasha frowned. ‘That’s a problem. Men can be so jolly awkward.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Casey bit her tongue. She sounded bitter and jaded, and she hated it.

‘What about Myles? Can’t you ask him to suggest it to Alex? You know what they say about blokes—you’ve got to let them think
they
had the idea.’

‘
Myles?’
Casey guffawed. ‘You must be out of your mind. How am I going to get Myles to persuade Alex to convince me that we need to visit a relationship counsellor?’

‘All right, point taken. So how about Liza?’

‘Liza?’ Now Casey was perplexed.

‘Yeah!’ Sasha warmed to her idea. ‘Get Liza on board with the plan. Make her talk to Myles and get her to get him to make Alex see the light.’

‘Wow, that’s convoluted logic,’ Casey tried to prevaricate.

‘But it’ll work, trust me! Liza is a clever girl. She’ll get Myles to do what you want without him even noticing. And before you know it, Alex will drag you off to the nearest counsellor.’

Casey gulped. ‘Okay. It’s worth a shot. But how do I get Liza to help?’

‘Give it to her straight, like you’ve done with me. She won’t let you down, I’m sure. She’s your friend too, and she’s a woman. She’ll get it.’

 

‘Oh man.’ Liza wrapped Casey into a big hug. ‘Of course I get it. But what a bummer. I can’t believe you two are going through such a rough patch.’

‘Shh!’ Casey looked around, panic-stricken. ‘He’ll hear you.’

‘No, he won’t. The intercom is off. Besides, he and Myles are way too busy thrashing out the beats. I bet they can’t even hear themselves in there.’

She held up a finger, and both she and Casey sat and listened. They were in the mixing room, lounging on the tattered sofas behind the sound desk. The sound engineer had gone on his lunch break, and Myles and Alex were in the studio experimenting with drum rolls and guitar riffs.

‘So you want me to get Myles to talk Alex into getting some help with you,’ Liza summed up the situation.

‘That’s right.’

‘Hm.’ Liza wrinkled her brow. ‘That’s an interesting challenge. How can I put that idea in his head?’

‘Do you think Myles and Alex ever talk about stuff? You know, “us”? As in, Alex and me?’

‘I doubt it.’ Liza shrugged. ‘You know what blokes are like. Leave them on their own, and all they’ll talk about is football and beer.’

‘We’re doomed,’ Casey declared. ‘We’ll have to get through six more years of atrocious sex. Or, as it is at the moment, practically
no
sex.’

Liza pulled a face. ‘That’s what’s confusing me. The curse doesn’t say you
couldn’t
have sex. It says you’d be having
bad
sex.’

‘I still don’t believe in that curse, by the way,’ Casey reminded her friend. ‘But, for what it’s worth, “bad” may be a relative thing. I’ve been thinking about this, you see.’

‘You have?’

‘Well, yeah. Of course I have. I even looked up counter-curses in a weak moment.’

‘You did?’ Liza was agog.

‘Yeah. Let’s not go there. Besides, you’re sidetracking me. I’ve been thinking about “bad”. It could mean simply—bad. You know, unsatisfactory. Or clumsy. Or painful. Or it could mean
bad
. As in evil, wicked, or cruel. Then again, it could mean bad as in unhealthy, damaging, or ruinous.’

Liza shook her head. ‘Have you been reading that dictionary again?’

‘No!’ Casey lied. ‘I happen to know a lot of words.’

‘Of course you do,’ Liza agreed, clearly unconvinced. ‘And your point is?’

‘My point is that this whole situation has become
bad
in the third sense: unhealthy, damaging, and ruinous.’

‘Which is why you want to get professional help.’

‘Exactly. Either that, or a divorce.’ Casey clapped her hand in front of her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that.
Really!
It simply slipped out. But now it couldn’t be unsaid.

‘Casey!’ Liza’s eyes went as big as saucers. ‘You don’t mean that, do you? You haven’t even been married a year!’

‘I don’t mean it,’ Casey said in a small voice. ‘I don’t know where that came from. But don’t you see? This whole situation is totally corrosive! We’re
dying
here!’

‘That’s a bit extreme, but I get your point. You do need help.’ She nibbled at her index finger. ‘I know!’

‘You know?’

‘I know!’

‘You know what?’

‘I know how to do it. I know how to get Myles to get Alex to see the light.’ Liza smirked. She had that self-assured look about her that always made Casey envious.
How did one get so certain of oneself?

‘How?’

‘You’ll need to help me. You’ll need to have a bit of a to-do with Alex. You know: a row, a big fight. So that Myles and I can talk about it when you’ve gone.’

‘That doesn’t sound particularly auspicious,’ Casey grumbled.

‘I’m a manipulator of men’s minds, not a magician,’ Liza retorted. ‘And I need an opening to get Myles into the zone. Then I’ll get him drunk. Next, I’ll get him running through scenarios.
Then,
I’ll get him to understand that you guys might split up. I’ll leave him to figure out the implications for the band… and I’ll drop the idea of “professional help” in there at the perfect moment.’

Liza paused for breath and grinned before continuing to lay out her plan. ‘Myles isn’t stupid. He’ll want to help his friends and rescue his band.
He
will suggest that you guys need to see someone. And he’ll put it to Alex. Trust me. I’ve got this figured out. But
you’ve
got to pretend that you’ve gone off the idea when Alex finally brings it to you. The more resistant you seem, the more you’ll drive him to go.’

‘You make it sound so easy,’ Casey breathed.

‘It will be. But I do need a convincing performance from you by way of fighting with Alex. I need Myles to be shit-scared so that he’ll be well primed.’

‘Oh gosh.’ Casey felt her lips quivering, and she erupted in goose bumps of fear all over her body. But she reined in the panic and agreed to Liza’s plan. ‘Okay. I’ll do my best.’

~Alex~

 

‘Here we are.’ Alex looked at the unassuming doorway in amongst the hustle and bustle of Notting Hill Gate. There was only the tiniest sign on the door. If he weren’t looking for the place, he would never have seen it. For years he had been living practically around the corner and not known this therapy place was right there.

People jostled past them, oblivious to the torture he and his wife were about to face. He gave Casey an optimistic smile and tried to ignore the rather vivid flashbacks to the last time they had consulted an ‘expert’ at his behest. The thought of Psychic Sam still creeped him out, but hopefully Bethany would be different. She would be properly trained, for a start, with three (
yes, three!
) psychology degrees to her name.

Going to see a relationship counsellor hadn’t been his idea. Or perhaps it had? Alex couldn’t recall who actually said the very words in the end. Too much alcohol had been consumed by him and Myles by the time the notion of visiting a counsellor had floated through the room. ‘You need help, mate,’ Myles had slurred. ‘That row you had with Casey, man—that was unhealthy.’

That row, indeed.
Alex winced at the recollection.

Things had been ticking over nicely—albeit sexlessly—in his marriage, he had thought, until one day, in the studio, Casey had kicked up an almighty fuss about something completely trivial. She had pressed all his buttons, got his hackles rising, and before he knew it, he had taken the bait. They had had the mother of all rows right there in front of Myles and Liza. The argument had completely blindsided him, and because he had been on the defensive, he had retaliated with all the vicious frustration that he had stored up over many weeks. He couldn’t remember the finer details of the abuse that he and Casey had hurled at each other, but Myles had assured him that it hadn’t been pretty.

The row had put a premature end to that day’s recording session, which was a double blow because the studio time had been paid for in advance. And to add insult to injury, there had been no fantastic make-up sex afterwards.

A few days after the fight, Myles had cornered him and dragged him out to the pub. At first, they had quietly downed a few pints without saying much. Eventually, Myles had asked—with uncharacteristic tact, one might add—if everything was okay between Alex and Casey. Acting out of character himself, too, Alex had given Myles a quick low-down on the situation.