Page 74 of Sex Ed

‘Yep.’

I don’t know why I say this. Yes, I will come and fetch my dropped butt plug and look you in the eye. It’s not been used because I only panic bought it a fortnight ago, and I wasn’t really sure whose butt it went in. I slip on some trainers, grab my keys and run down the staircase to the lower floor. I may have to move. I’d better find an estate agent. I knock tentatively on the door. When it opens, the man with the baby stands there, holding the butt plug in his hand.

‘Christ, I am so sorry. I am so embarrassed,’ I say, my mouth dry, cheeks ablaze. I await the judgement, the shame, the looks that will label me the building perv. That man on the third floor uses sex toys with such vigour that they fly out of the window.

‘No harm done, mate. What is it? Like one of them wine stopper things?’

I pause for a moment.

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, I’m Nick. This is Mia.’

‘Your baby is called Mia?’

‘Yeah. Sorry, she’s a loud little thing. There’s a lot of crying.’ I see the dishevelled look in his eyes, the fact he’s still wearing pyjamas in the afternoon. I see mini Mia, unperturbed by the distress she causes this man, and smile.

‘It’s what babies do. I’m Ed. I’m really sorry about this, by the way,’ I say, holding the butt plug up in the air. I need to stop doing that.

‘Like I say, no harm done. You should pop down for a drink sometime. We’re big on wine in this house. You can meet my wife, bring your fancy wine stopper thing.’

I don’t quite know how to reply to that, but I swear little baby Mia is laughing at us.

SIXTEEN

MIA

You deserve to be happy, too.

For the past day, Yolanda’s words have rung in my ears. I do deserve love and I do deserve to be happy. It’s not that I’ve stopped looking for these things, but it’s made me think I’ve spent the last month seeking that out for Ed, to fix his virginity issues, and I’ve forgotten to seek these things out for myself. In a few weeks, Ed will no longer need me, and he and Caitlin will be revelling in the glow of a new relationship where I will likely no longer see him. I know how this works. But I won’t deny it’s been a tiny bit fun to be able to have proper orgasms with a willing participant. So maybe it’s time to find those orgasms elsewhere, which is why I’m in a local pub waiting for Tinder Scott with the abs.

As I sit here, I check my make-up on my phone and see Ed is trying to message me. He does this now like an anxious child because his big sex date is coming up. I don’t know how to tell him that you can’t write a script for these things, you just need to let it happen.

This is going to be awful.

It’s going to be awful with that attitude. Can you fkn chill?

I don’t know how to do that! How do you chill out?

With a drink and a wank, usually.

‘Mia?’ I hear a voice from behind me.

I have to go.

I put my phone down and bite my lip, slowly turning around. Please don’t be a catfish. Please don’t be weird. Please don’t be a dick.

‘Scott?’

‘Yep. How’s it going? It’s good to finally meet.’

‘It is,’ I say this slowly, not because he’s taken my breath away. I mean, he looks like his pictures, nice T-shirt and jeans combo, I accept the trainers and the hair is styled well without being too sculpted. But dude, what’s with the voice? That’s some high pitch. Has he just had a hit of helium?

‘Am I not what you were expecting?’ he asks, registering my confusion.

‘Oh no, I guess it’s just strange to finally meet you in the flesh,’ I reply, putting my hand over my mouth. There was me thinking it’d be bizarre meeting you after I’d told you in as many words about pretty sexually explicit things I’d be willing to engage in, but now I sit here wondering if your balls have dropped. It’s a strange tone, like Chris Eubank crossed with a cartoon chipmunk. Is he putting it on? Is it supposed to be funny?

‘Let me just get a drink. Are you good?’

---