(This is the most vividly remembered night of my life, even through the haze of the wine and a separation of a decade. Am I embroidering any of it, bringing together more than one evening, making it all more exciting? Possibly; they say time makes liars of us all, and when it was happening it happened with bodies and lust and passion, not so much with words. But this all happened, pretty close to like this, and if I manage to make it seem a TENTH as good as it really was it will be a bloody miracle.)
So there I was. Married in '85, betrayed for the new millennium. Curled up at one end of our vast living room sofa with my stocking feet tucked up under my bum and a large glass of Merlot in my hand, my new neighbour Lisa at the other end of the sofa. Well new-ish, she'd been around 6 months or so. David and Sarah, my kids, were both out on sleepovers. Just me, Lisa, candlelight and a roaring fire.
Discussing HIM, the bastard.
"How long?" Lisa asked me.
"Over a year. He won't say exactly. Can't be much more than 2 years though, or I'd have had the police on to him. Fucking cradle snatcher."
"You CAN'T think he ..."
"No. No, not really, the girl's only four years older than Sarah but as much as I hate him, I don't think he is into children. Bet he likes the barely legal side of it though. Bastard."
"You're going to divorce him of course?"
"Of course. Sarah's 14, David's 13, they're old enough to understand."
"What about money?"
"I'm going to take him to the fucking cleaners, hon. He's run a good business with me at home playing perfect wifey for him. While he chases pussy fresh out of school skirts."
"You keeping the house?"
"For now. It'll be too big when the kids leave home, so I'm planning to cut a deal with him. He gets my half, and I get the cottage in Cornwall, but it's me and the kids living here till David leaves school."
"So where will Adam live?"
"He can live with his Barbie doll and her parents for all I care."
"And you? Are you ready to move on?"
"Gimme a minute." I downed the last of the wine and poured another one. Bottle empty, so I trudged off to the kitchen and grabbed another off the rack, pulled the cork and carried it back into the lounge with me to breathe. Adam's precious 30 quid a bottle stuff as well, not the supermarket specials he expected us to drink for everyday use.
I plonked the plonk on the coffee table and settled myself back on the sofa. "Move on? Hell yes." But then I frowned and admitted what I'd never really acknowledged before. "But you know, I don't really care. Adam's not fucked me in over five years and I β I never even really noticed. I don't enjoy sex. Never have. So not sure what moving on will mean. Just being me I guess."
Lisa leaned forward intently. "Never enjoyed sex? Sure it's not just Adam? Is he the only ..."
"No, no, there were two or three before him. I was no virgin bride. It never really appealed though. Like going to action movies because that's all the guys want to see. I did it 'cos it was the thing to do."
She looked me really deep in the eyes. "What about girls?"
"What about ...!" I must have looked really, incredibly puzzled. Then I laughed out loud. "You mean like β les?"
"Well, duh."
"I β I've never felt like that about a woman." I swear on a stack of Cosmos, I'd never given the idea a moment's thought in my life. It just wasn't anything I'd explored in my mind. I mean, I could tell when a girl was pretty, or beautiful, or even indefinably attractive. I assumed everyone could. But fanciable? By me? Perhaps I'd just never thought at ALL.
"Well it seems to me, hon, you've never felt like that about a man either." Lisa put her glass down and moved closer in to me. "Lorraine."
"What?" Colour me clueless.
"You know β we've talked, right, about dates I've been on?"
"Yeah, I remember you telling me about 'em. Dan. Sam? Tony?"
She smiled. "Yeah. I was just passing the time. They weren't the bringing-home kind of dates, I'm still new here and was settling in. Plus, there was β someone else."
"Ohh, someone from your past?"
She snorted. "No, someone new. Someone here."
"Do I know him?" See. Still clueless. I gulped a large slurp of wine.
"Jesus woman. OK, listen again. My dates since moving here. Danielle. Samantha. Toni with an 'i'."
My eyes widened. "Lisa, you're β"
" β a lesbian. A carpet muncher. A dyke."
She moved in closer still and her gaze was so intense β I'd never been looked at like that before. Never. "I'm about to risk our friendship now, and I don't care. The reason those dates were never going to get anywhere β was you, Lorraine."
I must have looked panicky. I bloody felt it.
"Me?"
"You. I saw you when I came to view the house, over the hedge. You were even part of the reason I bought it. Not that I thought we'd ever get anywhere but β I fancied you something rotten.
"I still do."
Rabbit in the headlights time. I hadn't seen this coming. I didn't have the mindset to even think it could be coming. But there she was, almost touching me, her eyes pleading, frizzy blonde hair framing her attractive oval face, her full red lips parted slightly.
Her hand slid onto my knee and she began to move forward, nervously. If I was going to stop her, now was the moment.
Instead, I put my glass down and lifted my hand to her cheek, caressing it with the back of my knuckles. "I might not really want this, you know."
"I know."
"But you, you want me? Really want me?"
"More than anything I've ever wanted. You have no idea, Lorraine."
"But I'm not beautiful. Not desirable. Just an ordinary mum in her thirties with a laugh like a bandsaw and a beaky nose."
"You're beautiful to me. You're desirable to me." Her hand slid softly up from my knee, under the edge of my skirt. It felt like it was burning into my thigh.
"Lisa. Oh, Lisa. I have no idea what I'm doing."
But I sat forward, and it was me that kissed her. Not her that kissed me. That was important to me: that I make the choice, positively, to begin to make love to another woman.
My arms wrapped around her and as we embraced, our breasts pressed together. My mouth parted and her tongue rolled around mine, and mine rolled around hers. And I knew. Deep inside I knew. 35 years. 25 years since puberty. All that time what I'd needed, without knowing it, was the touch of a woman.
A deep heat rose up inside me, a lust I'd never known before. I could feel my knickers growing damp with desire. Nothing would ever be the same again.
I couldn't believe how natural it felt, passionately kissing another woman, feeling her fingers stroking my inner thigh. Lisa's lithe body pressed into me and I slid my bum down along the sofa so we'd be lying down with her beside and half on top of me. In so doing, I wound up with her palm pressed flat against my knickers. I opened my legs wide.
"God, Lisa, I'm so WET for you. Adam never made me feel like this!"
"Less talking. More kissing. Me Tarzana. You Jane."
"Yes, mistress." I sucked hard on her tongue as it probed deep into my mouth, and my hands slid back round under her and started unbuttoning her blouse. Meanwhile she had pushed the damp fabric of my panties to one side and her finger slid gently up and down the length of my cleft, slowly parting my labia, exposing the hood of my eager clit.